"A bedroom on the first floor."
"When was she found? I don't know when Reheema was released from the FDC."
"Let's see." Detective Melvin flipped back in his notebook, then ran a thumb down the page. "You met with the daughter yesterday in the morning, right?"
"Right." Vicki had almost forgotten, it seemed so long ago. A loud thump came from her bedroom, which everybody pretended not to hear.
"The daughter wasn't released until after midnight last night."
"Why so late?"
"There were paperwork issues, I understand. She went straight to her mother's house and found her body. We caught the case at about one in the morning."
How awful. "The report said Mrs. Bristow was stabbed to death. I assume you didn't recover the knife."
"Not yet. It wasn't pretty. The victim was stabbed nine times."
My God. Vicki's stomach did a backflip. "That sounds like rage, as if it were personal, or maybe drug induced."
Dan added, "Like a crack addict."
"Was she found with any crack?" Vicki asked. "Had she used or what?"
"We field-tested the pipe next to the bed, which was positive. Toxicology tests on the body aren't finished yet."
"She'll be positive." Vicki thought a minute. "Where was my wallet?"
"Still on the victim's person, in a pocket in her dress. It was minus whatever credit cards and money you had."
"Reheema found the body and called the cops?"
"Right."
"Who found the wallet, you or Reheema?"
"The daughter."
"So Reheema knows that it was my wallet. She must have been surprised by that."
Detective Melvin nodded. "She was extremely angry. She demanded we question you, and I told her we were coming right here."
"She can't think I killed her mother."
"I can't speak for her, Ms. Allegretti." Detective Melvin made a note. "Now, about this man who answered your cell phone. What's your phone number?"
Vicki gave it to him, and he wrote it down. But she couldn't stop thinking about Reheema. Did she think Vicki murdered her mother?
"And what type of phone was it?"
"A Samsung, the newer model. It has one of those special covers, it's silver and has blue daisies with little green centers on the front."
"Now that should be a crime." Detective Melvin smiled, but Vicki couldn't.
"How will you run that down, detective? Look for the phone? Tap the line? You have enough for a warrant."
"Leave that to us. I'd ask you not to terminate the service, to help our efforts."
"Of course."
Detective Melvin flipped his notebook closed. "I understand that you have a personal interest in this case, but you have to leave matters to us. My partner and I have the highest clearance rate on the Homicide Division. We know what we're doing."
"I respect the Philly police, I was an assistant district attorney." Vicki decided to press her luck. "Though I did wonder why you hadn't called Mrs. Bott, to talk to her about Shayla Jackson."
"We did call, but there was no answer and she didn't have an answering machine. Then we understood she was going to ID the body at three yesterday, not noon. It was a simple misunderstanding." Detective Melvin didn't look happy about it, either. "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, Ms. Allegretti. Everybody thinks he's a detective. You could have been hurt last night, if not killed."
Standing behind Detective Melvin, Chief Bale wasn't saying anything. He didn't have to.
"But what about the drug activity on Cater? Is anybody going to do anything about it?"
"Ms. Allegretti." Detective Melvin frowned all the way to his shaved scalp. "As you well know, we have a Narcotics Division. That's their job. I'll make a point of notifying them of your observations of drug activity on Cater, and I'll also notify the captain in charge of that district. I'm sure they'll step up the patrols. If there is drug activity, they'll deal with it. You can't. In fact, Chief Bale has informed us that you're on a one-week suspension."
"It is indefinite now," Bale interjected, with a deep scowl. "That's without pay."
No! "Chief-"
"Don't even, Allegretti." Bale warned her off with a raised index finger.
"Fine, Chief."
"I don't need your permission," Bale shot back, and in the next minute, his attention was redirected to the stairs. The two uniformed cops were coming downstairs, carrying the brown paper bags they used to collect evidence.
"You found my suit?" Vicki asked, though the thought of her clothes in an evidence bag was tough to take.
"Yes, thanks. Took the shoes, too." The cops looked calm, so she assumed they hadn't found a murder weapon. She didn't want to think what her bedroom looked like.
"You didn't toss the place too bad, I hope."
"We improved it," one of the cops said, with a smile. "Give us a chance to make a mess here, too, will ya?"
"No problem," Vicki answered, and everybody rose and stood as the cops split up and began to turn over cushions in the couch. In the meantime, Detective Melvin slid his notebook into his back pocket, as did the other detective.
"Looks like we're done here, for now," he said. "Thanks for your cooperation. You know the drill. Don't leave the jurisdiction."
"You have to be kidding," Dan interjected, but Vicki touched his arm.
"Understood, gentlemen."
Bale was leaving, too, shifting his topcoat higher onto his shoulders and heading for the door. "I have a meeting to go to. Call you later, Vick." He glanced at Dan. "Malloy, put her under lock and key until further notice."
"Yeah, right," Dan said, but he didn't smile. He was watching the uniformed cops search Vicki's books, sliding them out and looking behind each one. She went to the door and opened it to let Bale and the detectives out, but a wet chill blew into the room. It had started snowing lightly, and large, flat flakes floated from the gray sky. The Holloway kids reappeared at their front window, ogling the uniformed cops.
"Thanks for coming," Vicki said, shutting the door, and she and Dan stood uncomfortably aside as the cops searched her living room.
"Almost finished, officers?" Dan asked, though they clearly weren't, and Vicki felt touched by his loyalty. He stood by her side, staring the cops down until they had finished destroying her living room, when she ushered them out the door. It was snowing with flakes too wet to stick, but the Holloway kids were out in heavy coats and mismatched mittens, pinwheeling in the snowflakes and sticking out their tongues stiff as spatulas. Their mother, Jenny, was laughing with them, taking pictures with a disposable camera. The Holloways stopped when the cops filed out of Vicki's front door and climbed into their respective squad cars, banged the doors closed, and started the cruisers' powerful engines, spewing exhaust into the chill air. Vicki waved a don't-worry-it's-just-business, and in the next minute, the kids resumed their spinning, with their mother snapping happily away.
Vicki watched them for a minute, then closed the door.
Hatching a scheme to get rid of her boyfriend.
EIGHTEEN
Snow fell steadily, muffling the world with nature's own insulation and filling Vicki's small kitchen with soft, natural light. It would have been cozy if Dan weren't somebody else's husband and she didn't have murder on her mind. She had to think of a way to kick him out without making him suspicious. "You sure you don't have to get home?" she asked.
"Nah, I want to help you clean up."
"I'll clean later. I have some errands to do."
"I do, too. Let's clean up and do them together." Dan scooped coffee grains into the paper filter with a brown plastic measuring spoon. "First, we need coffee."
Argh.
"It's so ridiculous, them questioning you. I just can't get over it."
"Let it go. They're just doing their jobs."
"Clowns. Jokers. Keystone Kops." Dan put the coffee back in the cabinet, then extracted the glass pitcher from the coffeemaker and filled it up with tap water. He had taken off his coat and was wearing his jeans with a blue crewneck sweater and no shirt underneath, which forced Vicki to imagine him naked. Finally she understood why men found bralessness sexy.