“You’re not my boss,” Hacker complained, falling into step. “Why’d you let him think that?”
“Hey, what difference does it make?” Skovich grinned. “It was an honest mistake. He could obviously see I have an air of authority about me.”
Hacker snorted. “Or could obviously see that you’re the old guy.”
“Wasn’t it just yesterday you were telling me I’m only forty and all that crap?”
Hacker shouldered him aside and slid into the driver’s seat. “I try to stay flexible in my thinking,” he said. “Pick a side and I’ll be on it.”
They tracked Mickey Wise to a deli on Broad Street. Mickey was young, brash, and charming, adept at parting senior citizens from their hard-earned dollars for insurance policies that never materialized. In his past, Mickey had even been known to convince at least one elderly widow to insure her precious parakeet for an astounding sum. Mickey was enjoying a corned beef on rye when they arrived, and he didn’t object when the partners slid into his booth to join him.
“How’s the insurance business, Mickey?” Skovich greeted him.
The boyish shine dimmed in Mickey’s eyes. “I’m out of that business, detective, sir,” he answered earnestly. “I’ve learned my lesson. I’m working for my uncle in the trucking business now. You’re looking at a solid citizen and I owe it all to you two.”
“Well, that’s swell,” Skovich said. “You haven’t by any chance been visiting friends at 1012 Towne Place recently, have you?”
Mickey swallowed carefully before replying. “Hey, I know what happened there. Some poor old woman got killed. Don’t look to me for that. Even back when I was a bad guy I never hurt anyone. It’s not in me.”
“Thanks for the testimonial,” Hacker told him. “But humor us, okay? Where were you a week ago Thursday? All day.”
Mickey’s smile was more of a smirk. “Well, you’ll pardon me if I spare you the details, but I was on my honeymoon. I got married the Sunday before that and my sweet bride and I went to Hawaii for a week. Check it out. I told you, I’m a changed man.”
Mickey’s story held. The airline confirmed passage, and the hotel in Hawaii had them registered in the bridal suite for eight days. Faxed pictures of Mickey were identified as the proud bridegroom.
Hacker sighed. “Oh well, he’ll be coming back to us one of these days anyway.”
“Oh yeah,” Skovich agreed. “He’s got two mouths to feed now.”
The initial interviews with tenants in Mrs. Miner’s building had come up with a record for one. His name was Darcy Lundgren, and he’d been convicted some years past for an assault on an elderly woman because her dog persisted in using Lundgren’s yard as a public facility. It didn’t sound too promising, but the partners went to see him anyway. He had, after all, landed the woman in the hospital.
Lundgren turned out to be an ageing, soft-spoken man, partially blind.
“I knew her from the building, sure, but I never said more than hello to her,” he told them.
“How about her dog? We understand you don’t like dogs very much.”
Lundgren sighed. “That was a long time ago. I had a drinking problem back then, lost my wife and kids because of it. I’ve been sober for almost twenty years now. I’ve got a good pension and I mind my own business. Ask anyone who knows me. I’m not the same man I used to be.”
They believed him. “Too many bad guys reforming on us,” Skovich groused on their way back to the car. “Keep this up and we’ll be out of a job.”
Nothing was opening up on this case, so for the next few days the partners occupied themselves with others. Hacker was pleased that Skovich’s tooth continued to improve.
“You know, I think I’m going to pull you through this case all in one piece,” he beamed. “Maybe your bad luck is over.”
Skovich munched an antacid. “Let’s go back and talk to Mrs. Halloran again,” he suggested. “She’s the closest link we’ve got to Lorena Miner. Maybe we can help her to remember something she forgot.”
Four old men rose in unison from their park bench to hail them as the detectives cruised past. Skovich reluctantly stopped the car and they clustered at its windows.
“I know it’s risky to be seen talking to you,” P.T. said, “but we just remembered this morning seeing that lady walking with someone a coupla times. Some young guy. Don’t know if it means anything, but she was usually by herself unless the lady with the cane was with her.”
“Did it look like he was harassing her?”
“No, they was talking friendly.” P.T. bobbed eagerly.
“How we doing? Is that a good tip?”
“Could be,” Skovich answered cautiously. “What did this guy look like?”
The old men conferred a minute. “Not too tall,” P.T. announced. “Nowhere near as big as you boys. Early twenties prob’ly, light hair. Got a round face, kind of soft-looking. Walked hunched over with his hands in his pockets.” The others nodded affirmation. “Wore some kind of dark jacket, kind of like a letter jacket. Dark blue or gray, I think it was.”
“Okay, thanks,” Skovich said. “We’ll get on it.”
Marsh leaned close to Hacker’s window and bared his gums. “Gonna get my new teeth this afternoon,” he mumbled. “Really appreciate what you done.”
“My pleasure,” Hacker assured him. “But lay off the hard candy now, will you? Try something soft instead.”
Mrs. Halloran seemed pleased to see them. The white cat did not. When Skovich asked her if she’d go through Mrs. Miner’s apartment with them, her eyes clouded.
“Do I have to? I did that with the first officers and it was hard. It’s so empty and cold there without Lorena.”
“You’d be helping us out, Mrs. Halloran. And helping Mrs. Miner, too. She’d want us to find the man who did this.”
“I know she would. Poor Lorena. All right, I’ll go.”
Once inside the empty apartment, she proceeded on tiptoe. “It was always so warm and friendly in here,” she murmured. “Lorena would be over there sewing by the window or we’d have tea. I just can’t bear to think...” Her voice trailed away.
“Anything you can remember, any little thing,” Hacker encouraged her.
They were in the kitchen. The old woman nodded. “I’ll try, but I already told everything I could think of. I don’t know what else—” She stopped.
“Mrs. Halloran?”
She was gazing at the phone on the kitchen wall. A puzzled frown grew. “I just noticed,” she said. “Her keys. See that little hook on the wall beside the phone? Lorena had an extra set of keys hanging there. She got them after she mislaid hers one day and took forever to find them. Said she was getting so absent-minded that she needed another set. Now look — they’re gone. I swear, I didn’t notice that before. Do you think — did one of your men take them?”
“No, ma’am,” Skovich said, his gut beginning a slow dance. “Were they hanging there when you were in here before, the day it happened?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t think — no, I don’t believe they were.” Her eyes grew wide and frightened. “Maybe that’s how he got in.”
“Then it would have to be someone who’d been in here before,” Hacker said. “Who could that have been?”
Mrs. Halloran’s hands fluttered. “I don’t know! Lorena was always so careful. Mrs. Robertson and I visited, and that young Mr. Caputo helped her with her groceries a time or two. And the boy from the library was here. Besides that, I—”
“What boy from the library?” Skovich cut in sharply.
She stared up at him. “There was a young man worked at the library. Lorena mentioned he was so nice and friendly. She went there often, you know, loved to read. And she told me he brought books a few times when the weather was too bad for her to go out.” Her voice began to tremble. “She thought it was so considerate.” At the question in the detectives’ eyes, she whispered, “I don’t know a thing about him. I don’t remember if she even mentioned his name.” Her gaze was drawn back to the empty hook on the wall. “But the keys were always there, right in plain sight.”