Beneath a Buried House (Detective Elliot Mystery Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

The forensic team had arrived and they were busy going about the place. Bob Davis had pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and was watching whatever program was on the television. “No signs of forced entry,” Elliot said. “And it doesn’t appear as though any kind of a struggle took place.”
    “There might be hope for you after all,” Dombrowski said. “We can rule out robbery, too. Nothing seems to be missing.”
    “Except for the man’s identification,” Elliot said.
    Dombrowski gave Elliot a curious look then said, “Mr. Davis?”
    Bob Davis got out of his chair. “What is it now?”
    “You mentioned that a Ms. Stella Martin might have overheard something. Could we have a word with her, please?”
    “That won’t be a problem. If there’s anything Stella likes to do, it’s to talk.”
    Elliot and Dombrowski followed Bob Davis out of the room and into the hallway where the manager began to knock on the door of apartment 4. When it opened, Dombrowski stepped forward. “Thanks for your help, Mr. Davis.” He motioned to Elliot. “Give him his cell phone back.” After Elliot had complied Dombrowski said, “We’ll let you know if there’s anything else we need.”
    The apartment manager shrugged. He looked a little put out. “Suit yourself. I’ve got other things to do anyway.”
    Stella Martin kept her little piece of Windhall clean, and she’d tried to make a home of it, draping doilies over the chair arms and throwing rugs across the floor. “Can I get you anything?” she asked. “Some coffee, perhaps?” She moved gracefully for her size, and her demeanor reflected a tough kind of friendliness. Elliot found himself wondering if she had children.
    Dombrowski shook his head. “This shouldn’t take long. Just tell us exactly what you saw and heard last night.”
    Stella Martin dropped into a chair and folded her hands across her lap. “I didn’t see anything last night, but the night before, that’d be Friday, I saw a few things. There’s something strange goes on in that place. I’ve told Davis about it, but he don’t pay me no mind.”
    “Why did you wait until this morning to report it?” Dombrowski asked.
    “Like I said, nobody ever pays me no mind. People are in and out of that apartment all hours of the night, and strange voices come through the walls. It’s a damn zoo around here. It was different that night though. The voices were more like conversation, and the TV was blaring. Don’t usually hear the TV.”
    “Do you remember about what time all of this started?”
    “It was early in the evening, around seven I’d say. That TV went on all night and it’s been going ever since.”
    Dombrowski paused, and Elliot took the opportunity to ask a question. “You mentioned people coming and going. Could you tell us a little more about that?”
    “Honey, I know that hallway and the sounds it makes. Nobody goes up and down those old boards without my knowing about it.”
    Ms. Martin sounded confident, leaving Elliot not only inclined to believe her, but also wondering just how well her eavesdropping skills were honed, and if she might in fact be able to speculate on the size and weight, even the gender of her hallway trespassers. “Do you suppose they were residents of the building?”
    She shook her head. “Ain’t nobody lives there.” She pointed to the wall, meaning apartment 3, where the body was found. “But Friday was different. There was this man, but he didn’t look like anybody I’d ever seen around here. He had a hooker with him, too.”
    “How do you know she was a hooker?” Elliot asked.
    “Cause she looked like one.”
    “And how is that?”
    “Jesus, Detective. Do I have to draw you a picture? You a cop, or a Baptist minister, don’t know what a hooker looks like.”
    Dombrowski didn’t even try to hide the smirk on his face.
    “Could you be a little more specific?” Elliot asked.
    “She had on high heels, tight leather pants, and one of those