The cab let me out in front of a narrow brick building with a light on above the door.
Lisa’s sister lived on the second floor. I’d been there once before. Lisa had opinions about that.
I went up and knocked.
The door opened a few inches. Lisa looked me over.
“You alone?”
“Far as I could tell.”
She opened it the rest of the way.
“Wipe your feet.”
I did.
“And take that hat off. You’re dripping.”
“Good evening to you too.”
She took my hat and hung it over a basin by the door.
“How is she?”
“Finally stopped shaking. My sister found her something dry.”
“Good.”
Lisa put a hand on my arm before I could go any farther.
“Jerry. Go easy.”
“I need to ask her a few things.”
“I know what you need. I’m telling you how to do it.”
* * *
Evelyn was sitting at the kitchen table. She had on a borrowed dress, plain blue, a little loose at the shoulders. Her red one was hanging over the back of a chair near the stove.
There was a cup of tea in front of her. It didn’t look like she’d touched it.
She stood when she saw me.
“Mr. Flint.”
“Jerry.”
“Did you go there?”
“Yea.”
“And?”
“Sit down, kid.”
She sat.
Lisa’s sister was at the sink. She dried her hands on a towel and looked at Lisa.
“Come help me with the bed.”
They left us in the kitchen.
I took the chair across from Evelyn.
“Do the police know?” she asked.
“About you? Yea.”
“What did they say?”
“They’d like to have a word.”
Her eyes went to the doorway.
“Did you tell them I was here?”
“No.”
“Thank you.”
I put my cigarettes on the table.
“Don’t thank me yet.”
She looked at them, then at me.
“Could I have one?”
I shook one out and handed it over. Lit hers, then mine.
She took a drag. Her hand was steadier than it had been in my office.
“I spoke to the receptionist.”
“What did he say?”
“He remembers you. So does the bell boy.”
“I told you they saw me.”
“Yea. You did.”
I leaned back.
“The man on the telephone was Musgrove’s assistant.”
She watched me.
“He says Musgrove asked him to call you. Nothing unusual about the appointment, far as he knew.”
“I didn’t say there was.”
“No.”
I let that sit a moment.
“How’d you leave the hotel?”
“The stairs. All the way down.”
“Why not the elevator?”
“I didn’t want anyone to see me.”
“Where’d you come out?”
“Past the kitchens. Into an alley.”
That part fit.
“Anybody stop you?”
“No.”
“And then you came to me.”
“Yes.”
She tapped her cigarette against the ashtray. There wasn’t much ash on it yet.
“Jerry, did you find anything that could help?”
“Maybe.”
“What?”
“The room was quite a mess.”
She looked down at her tea.
“Was it tossed before or after you showed up?”
“Before.”
I watched her.
“You remember arriving?”
Her cigarette stopped halfway to her mouth.
“I mean it was like that when I saw him.”
“When you came to.”
“Yes.”
She took a drag.
“That’s what I meant.”
I nodded. She waited for the next question.
I let her wait.
From the other room I heard Lisa say something to her sister. A cupboard opened. Closed.
“Where’s the ring, kid?”
Evelyn looked up.
“What ring?”
“Musgrove’s ring. The one you took.”
“I didn’t take anything.”
I pulled the newspaper from my coat and unfolded it on the table. Turned it towards her.
She looked at the picture.
“His right hand,” I said.
“What about it?”
“Three rings there. Two when I saw him tonight.”
“And you think I stole it?”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then somebody else might have.”
She pushed the newspaper back towards me.
“You said you were going to help.”
“That’s what I’m doing.”
“By accusing me?”
“By asking you before Pembroke does.”
She looked away.
I put out my cigarette.
“Evelyn. I’ve got a dead man, a room somebody searched, and a ring that might be missing. You were there. If you remember something you haven’t told me, I need it.”
“I’ve told you—”
“I know what you told me.”
She went quiet.
For a while she watched the cigarette burn between her fingers. Then she crushed it into the ashtray.
“If I tell you something, will you let me finish?”
I moved the newspaper aside.
“Go ahead.”
“You have to hear all of it.”
“Alright.”
She looked towards the doorway again.
“There was someone else there.”
“Upstairs?”
“Yes.”
“With Musgrove?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
She rubbed at a spot on the table with her thumb.
“My husband.”
I sat back.
She hadn’t mentioned a husband. I’d been too busy telling her about my divorce.
“Where is he now?”
“You don’t understand, Jerry.”
She reached for her cup, then put it down without drinking.
“I buried him.”