"Did your informant mention how Tilly happened to end up on the ceiling?”
"All my informant told me, m'dear, is that Tilly was upstairs boffin' the Sanchez girl all night long, who I wouldn't mind boffin' myself, from what I hear she looks like.”
"Did your informant actually see Tilly up there?”
"I do not know, m'friend, I do not know. What I suggest you do is go up there yourself and talk to the lady in 22, who according to what I've been told is something to observe, ah yes.”
Carmen Sanchez was a woman in her late twenties, tall and loose-limbed, with a mop of curly black hair, eyes to match, and a mouth made for singing. Or so she told them at once.
Carmen was on her way to a singing lesson. Just putting on her coat, in fact, when the doorbell rang. The coat was as red as her very snug, long-sleeved sweater. A long striped muffler around her throat was the color of the snug sweater and her very snug jeans. Carmen said she had to leave immediately, she did not have time to talk to the police. Meyer said this would only take a minute.
"Sure, I know a police minute," Carmen said, and looked at her watch. "Okay, five minutes, that's all I've got. I'm not kidding you. I have to be there at eight.”
"Five minutes," Carella promised.
"I mean it," Carmen said. "I have to pay her for the full hour no matter how late I am.
So let's do this fast, okay?”
"Roger Tilly," Carella said, getting straight to the point.
"I figured.”
"Was he here the night before he got killed?”
"He was here.”
"This would've been Sunday night, the sixth.”
"I know when it was.”
"What time did he get here?" Meyer asked.
"He was here when I got home.”
"What do you mean? In the apartment?”
"Yes.”
And now the two men-mindful of the five-minute time limit Carmen had put on the questioning but ready to violate it if they had to-began working her as a team, firing at will, asking questions willy-nilly, trying to find out just what had happened in those hours before Tilly's death.
"Does he have a key?”
“No, I left it with the super. I knew he was coming over.”
"Home from where?”
"I was working that night. I got home around two o'clock.”
"Working where?”
"A club down the Quarter.”
"On a Sunday?”
"Why not? You religious or something?”
"Doing what?”
"I'm a singer. I thought I told you.”
"Which club?”
"Why?”
"Just curious.”
“I didn't kill him.”
"Who said you did?”
"Why do you want to know which club? So you can check if I was there, right?”
Both detectives looked at her.
"It's called Clancy's, it's a jazz club," she said.
"How come Tilly came here instead of going to the club?”
"He doesn't like jazz. Anyway, he's heard me sing a hundred times already.”
"So he came here to wait for you.”
"Yeah. This was Sunday night. Murder, She Wrote was on.”
"He liked that, huh?”
"Never missed it." Carmen looked at her watch.
"Three minutes," she said.
"What was Tilly doing when you got here?”
"Sleeping.”
"Was he here all night?”
"All night.”
"What happened yesterday morning?”
"We got up, it m/'ve been ten, ten-thirty. We had some coffee, and then went back to bed for a while.”
"Uh-huh," Carella said.
"Then what?" Meyer said.
"I started getting dressed.”
"What was Tilly doing?”
"He was talking on the phone.”
"Did he make the call? Or did someone call him?”
"The first one he made. The second one came in.”
"There were two altogether?”
“Yes.”
"Did he mention any names while he was on the phone?”
"I've got to get out of here in one minute flat.”
"Did you hear him say anyone's name?”
"He asked for a Mr. Steinberg. He was buying a new car, that was the salesman he was dealing with.”
"Was this the call he made?”
"Yes.”
"How about the second call?”
"He was talking to somebody about money.”
"Yeah, go ahead. What'd he say?”
"He said he wanted the rest of his money.”
"What'd he mean by that?”
"I don't know. But he was really angry.
Yelling in the phone-look, I have to leave.”
"Just sit tight a minute, Miss Sanchez," Carella said.
"No, I'm not sitting tight a minute or even thirty seconds," she said, and began putting on the red coat. "I'm out that door.
...”
"Just a few more questions," Carella said.
"You promised me ...”
"Promises, promises," Meyer said.
Their eyes locked.
"Cops," she said, and shook her head, and took off the coat, and draped it angrily over one of the kitchen chairs. "All right, let's get it over with," she said, and sat in the chair, and stretched her long legs and folded her arms across the tight red sweater.
"This second call," Carella said.
"Yeah," she said, and nodded curtly, fuming.
"Give it to us in detail.”
"What kind of detail?”
"What's the first thing he said?”
"He said, `Yeah, this is me.`”
"Then what?”
"He said something like, `Well, when am I gonna get it?`”
"Yeah, go on.”
"Then he ... how do I know? How do you expect me to remember ...?was "Try.”
"He said something about No, I want the rest of it now, not tomorrow, I want it right this minute. He said that a couple of times, about getting the rest of his money now. He said that was the deal, and he was tired of asking for it. He wanted the rest of it now.”
"He specifically mentioned the word money?”
"Yes. Well, the money, or the bread, whatever.”
"How'd the conversation end?”
"They made arrangements to meet downstairs.”
"How do you know?”
"'Cause I heard Roger giving the address here, and then he ...”
A look suddenly crossed her face. She was remembering. They waited.
"Yeah," she said, nodding. "That's right.”
"Yeah what's right?" Meyer said.
"He did say a name.”
"What name?”
"Bowles. `I'll give you half an hour, Mr. Bowles.`”
"Are you sure about that?”
"Yeah, that was the name. Bowles.”
"Then what?”
"He listened for a minute, and then he said, `All right, make it twelve sharp.`”
"And you say he gave him this address?”
"Yeah, and said he'd meet him on the front stoop.”
"At twelve o'clock sharp.”
"Yeah. And he said he'd better have the money with him.”
"What time was this, would you remember?”
"It m/'ve been around eleven-fifteen.”
"What'd Tilly do then?”
"He took a shower, and then he got dressed and went downstairs.”
"What time was that?”
"Well, I guess it was around twelve.”
"Did he come back up here after his meeting?”
"No, he never came back up here," Carmen said.
6.
In an American court of law, the prosecuting attorney is always the first to present his case. In what is called a direct examination, he questions the witnesses he has called, and then the defense attorney questions them in what is called a cross-examination. The D.A. then gets a second shot at these witnesses in what is known as a re-direct. After which the defense attorney gets his turn once again in a re-cross.