Getting Old Is Criminal Read Online Free PDF Page A

asked.”
    “So, Miss Popularity,” Ida says caustically,
    “what Prince Charming do you expect to show up on your welcome mat?”
    Evvie thinks for a few moments, trying to find the right words. “I want someone . . . someone deb-onair. Worldly. A man who’ll sweep me off my feet.
    Maybe even handsome. Someone who’ll understand me. Not like that pathetic schlepper, Sol.”
    Bella says, “So give him a broom and he’ll sweep.”
    Sophie looks up from swallowing her pills as she mixes yet another metaphor. “Look at him like a practice trial.”
    “Look at him like the loser he is,” adds Ida, negative as usual.
    Evvie scowls. “I’d rather have the heartbreak of psoriasis.”
    I can’t sit another minute. I stand up. This date talk is driving me crazy. “I think it’s time we dealt 3 4 • R i t a L a k i n
    with the problem of our Peeping Tom. Let’s go to the office and find Greta Kronk’s file.”
    “Right.” Evvie jumps up. “We have to find the drawing labeled ‘sneaky peeky.’ It may identify the guy who’s been peeping in all those apartments.”
    Greta Kronk had been a longtime resident of Phase Two. After she died, on a hunch I suggested we keep all her sketches. I sigh. I still bemoan the fact that the police refused to do an autopsy on her. We later proved she was murdered. If we’d found out earlier, we might have been able to save the next victim.
    Bella is confused. “What?”
    Ida says, “Remember when poor crazy Greta was smearing paint on our doors and cars, she always left a nasty little poem? And then when we went to her apartment, we found out she did sketches to match the poems?”
    Bella smiles. “Now I remember, when you remind me.”
    Sophie says, “I can’t go. Mah-jongg. And Bella, you’re playing, too.”
    Ida tells us she has to write letters to her grandchildren. We all avoid commenting since we know what little good that will do—they never answer any of her mail.
    Evvie puts her arm through mine. Meeting is over. Thank God.
    *
    *
    *

    G e t t i n g O l d I s C r i m i n a l • 3 5
    The condo office, where all the Lanai Gardens records are kept, is really not much more than a large broom closet. Actually, board members converted part of one of our many storerooms for this purpose. An old wooden desk, an unmatched chair, a two-drawer file cabinet, a bulletin board, and that’s about it. Evvie looks up at me from where she is searching the lower file drawer. “It’s not here.”
    “How can that be? It has to be there.”
    She wipes the dust off her hands. This place is only cleaned when someone thinks about it, and that isn’t often. Evvie looks through the mess of papers on the desk as well. “Nope. The Greta Kronk file is gone, along with the poems and sketches she did of almost everyone in Lanai Gardens. You think the Peeper took it?”
    “Who else?”
    “But the office is always locked.”
    “And the key is always under the mat. Probably fifty people know that, and just about that many knew all about Greta’s pictures, too. Try and keep any secrets around this place.”
    We secure the door when we leave, and yes, we put the key under the mat.
    I glance up toward the third-floor catwalk, where my apartment is, and catch a glimpse of a couple standing there.
    They see us at the same time. “Mrs. Gold?” the man calls down.
    “Are you waiting for me?”

    3 6 • R i t a L a k i n
    “Yes,” he says, “We might have a job for you.”
    Evvie pinches my arm excitedly. “I hope this is a good one.”
    As Evvie and I hurry up the stairs, only about a dozen or so doors open, allowing their residents to get a look at what’s going on. I find it amazing that, what with the huge yenta population around here, no one has seen the Peeper yet. Anyone could have snuck into the condo office—any resident, that is. But a stranger on the property would have attracted immediate attention. That’s why I’m sure it’s one of our men, an insider, who is the