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"Are all unaccompanied visitors announced?"

"Yes, 'cept when a tenant leaves word not to. But they only do that for close family members."

"Was Mrs. Harrison listed as a visitor to Mary Ann Gardner's apartment yesterday?"

"No. I looked. I phoned the guys who were on duty last night and evening, and they both said that they never even saw Mrs. Harrison yesterday."

"Was there any way for her to get there without passing through the lobby?"

Baffin explained that the lobby separated the north and south wings of the building, but that in the basement a corridor connected both elevator banks.

Parker said: "So anybody who is in the basement can walk to the north or south elevator bank and ride up to any apartment they choose without being seen or announced."

"Yeah. But only tenants have free access to the basement."

"What about deliveries?"

"They all come in through the service entrance and are accompanied by porters up to the apartment."

"When is the service entrance open?"

"From eight in the morning until six o'clock in the evening, and up to five on Saturday. Closed on Sunday."

"What about the garage?"

"It's on the Fifty-fourth Street side of the building, and it's only for the tenants. There's a slot that they stick a plastic key into that opens the door, or they can use an automatic door opener. They park the car and walk through a door in the back that leads into the basement."

Parker pointed to the visitors' log. "How long are these kept?"

"Two years, then they're thrown out."

"Mind if I look through it?"

"Go ahead."

The first entry was on December 10 of last year. The day and date headed each page. The left-hand column listed the time, followed by the visitor's name and the tenant and apartment number. The last column listed the time the guest left the building. As he scanned the pages he saw that Mary Ann Gardner had many male guests, all at night. None of them stayed overnight. "Do you know any of these men?"

"Naw. They'd come over to me, give me their names, and I'd call up to her and she'd say 'Send 'em on up.' "

Parker picked up the log and walked over to the grouping of blue sofas. After taking out Mary Ann's appointment book, Parker turned to the first "lover boy" entry on Sunday, January 15, 1995, at 7:00 p.m. He opened the visitors' log to that time and date and saw no corresponding entry, nor was there one for any of the other fifteen "lover boy" entries in her appointment book. The page that held yesterday's entries had a slip of paper stapled to the top. He took it off. It contained a list of names. "What's this?" he asked, holding it up.

"The Goldmans in apartment twelve-CS had a party last night. That's the list of their guests. They left it here at the desk. That way we check them off as they arrive and don't have to bother the Goldmans with announcing each of their guests."

Parker folded up the slip of paper and slid it into his pocket. He returned the visitors' log and asked Baffin, "Did Miss Gardner bring a lot of men home with her?"

"I don't know what you'd call a lot, but she certainly never got lonely. She was always bringing guys home with her. Most of them I'd never see again."

Jean Bailey, an attractive brunette in her early thirties, was nervous. Sitting on the terrace of her East Seventy-ninth Street apartment, toying with a spoon, she looked across the glass table and said to Parker, "I couldn't believe it when I heard it on the radio."

"I understand you were one of her closest friends."

"Yes, we were very close."

"Tell me about her. What was she like?"

"She had a great sense of humor, loved to be with people, and wanted more than anything else to be a screenwriter."

"How long had she known Adele Harrison?"

"I don't think Mary Ann knew her. She never mentioned her name to me."

"What about her boyfriends?"

Jean's eyes fell to the empty coffee cup; she began gnawing at the edge of her lower lip. "I don't know about any of that." Her words lacked conviction.

"It's important that I find out all there is to know about Mary Ann's life. Please."

She grabbed a package of cigarettes up off the table and lit one. Blowing out the smoke, she relented. "Mary Ann didn't have one boyfriend, she had lots of them. She never wanted any of them to take her out for dinner or anything like that. All she wanted was for them to come to her apartment and take her to bed." She took another pull of her cigarette. "Did you know any of her lovers?"

"No."

"Where did she meet these guys?"

"In the neighborhood. At the New School where she took courses. She liked to go to Johnny Diamond's; she'd meet them there." She flicked the cigarette ash and asked softly, "Why did she kill Mary Ann?"

"We're not sure yet. Was Mary Ann into married men?" "I don't know. She was very secretive about her love life." "How long had she known Adele Harrison?" "I already told you, as far as I know, Mary Ann didn't know her."

"You had lunch together yesterday, right?" "No. Mary Ann canceled. She said she was expecting company. Which meant one of her lovers was coming over. We dished on the phone for a while and made plans to do lunch on Monday."

"Did she tell you who she was seeing?"

"No, she didn't. As I already told you, Mary Ann wasn't big on giving out the names of the men she was sleeping with."

"I always thought that women confided that stuff to their close girlfriends."

Jean smiled as she crushed the cigarette in the ashtray. "Women are not all the same, Detective." "What did you two talk about?"

"She was excited about her latest screenplay. She told me that a producer was interested in making it into a movie."

"Did she tell you his name?"

"No."

"Mary Ann must have been happy over that."

"She was thrilled. I've never seen her so excited."

"I'm surprised she didn't tell you the name of the producer. I would think that she'd do that."

"I know, that was strange. Not like her. I had the feeling…"

"What?"

"From the way she was gushing on and on about this producer, I had the feeling that he was the one she was seeing yesterday."

The man opened the door and stole into Mary Ann Gardner's apartment. When he saw Parker sitting in the foyer with his shield case dangling from his right hand, he froze. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Detective John Parker, Seventeenth Squad." He studied the handsome, well-dressed man for a few seconds before he said, "Mr. Harrison, your wife and Mary Ann are both dead." Harrison 's legs sagged. He looked with stunned silence at Parker, digesting the words he had just heard.

"What did you say?"

Parker told him again. "How?" Harrison said.

"It appears that your wife shot Miss Gardner and then took her own life. The revolver she used was registered to you."

Harrison staggered against the wall. Parker rushed over to him and helped him onto a chair.

"I don't believe this," Harrison said.

"I'm afraid it's true."

"I kept that damn gun in a shoe box on top of the closet in our bedroom. I hadn't touched it in years. I decided on Friday to sell it to one of the gun dealers around police headquarters, and took it down. I left it on my dresser. I was going to get rid of it on Monday."

"When did your wife find out about the affair?"

Shaking his head with disbelief, he said, "I didn't think she knew."

"How long had you been having a thing with Miss Gardner?"

"We met in January at Johnny Diamond's. The affair began immediately, the first night."

"How did you manage crossing over to her side of the building without being seen by the doormen or the concierge?"