The Fredösphere

I found him sitting on the park bench at one o'clock, just like he said.

"So, what's this all about?"

He stood and faced me.

"Thank you for coming, detective. I have something important to tell you."

He paused while he brushed invisible dust from his impeccably clean tuxedo coat.

"Tonight at midnight, I will murder my wife.  I will leave no evidence that points to me.  I will construct an alibi that you will be unable to refute.  If you attempt to use this conversation as evidence against me, I will prove it never happened, and you will be dismissed from the force in disgrace.  I will commit this crime and walk, and you will go to your grave raging against your helplessness.  I tell you this now because I expect to derive much satisfaction in watching you rage."

I examined his face for clues he was joking.  His kind are notoriously hard to read; on the other hand, they are notoriously lame when it comes to humor.

"In that case, why don't we head down to the station?  I can find an excuse to keep you locked up overnight."

His two mouths contorted in what I suspected was an alien's equivalent of a smile.

"Just as I planned. Thank you, detective, for being so predictable."

Labels: FictionOpeners