The Undertaker's Widow Read Online Free PDF

neighbors can hear.”
    Mrs. Jablonski hesitated. Then she closed the door for a moment and took off the safety chain. A second later, the door swung into the apartment and Dennis followed Anthony inside.
    The apartment was small, with two narrow bedrooms, a small living room and a tiny kitchen area that was separated from the living room by a low counter.Both detectives were impressed by how clean Conchita Jablonski kept the apartment. Her two children huddled in the doorway of one of the bedrooms watching the detectives. They looked well cared for. A boy and a girl, both about six or seven, big-eyed and brown-skinned with soft black hair.
    Conchita Jablonski was a heavyset, dark-complexioned woman with a pockmarked face. She led the detectives into the living room and seated herself in a frayed and shabby armchair. Dennis and Anthony sat across from her on a sagging couch.
    â€œI have some bad news for you,” Anthony said. Conchita Jablonski’s facial features stayed frozen, but her shoulders hunched as if she were preparing for a blow. She clasped her hands in her lap. “Martin broke into a home last night.” Conchita’s features wavered. Her hands tightened on each other. “While he was in the house, he shot and killed someone.”
    Conchita began to shake. The children saw the change in their mother and they looked frightened.
    â€œMartin was also shot. He’s dead.”
    Conchita bent at the waist as if she had been punched in the stomach. She started to sob. Her shoulders shook. The children’s eyes widened. They huddled together. Dennis stood up and walked over to the shaking woman. He knelt beside her chair.
    â€œMrs. Jablonski,” he began in a soft and sympathetic voice. Before he could say another word, Conchita Jablonski spun in her chair and slapped him across the face. Dennis was off balance. He fell onto the floor awkwardly, almost in slow motion, into a sitting position, more stunned than hurt.
    â€œYou bastards!” Conchita shrieked. “You killed my Marty!”
    Anthony raced to her chair and restrained Mrs. Jablonski.
    â€œHe was robbing a house, Mrs. Jablonski. He murdered a woman’s husband. He would have killed her, too, if she hadn’t shot him.”
    Conchita heard only parts of what Anthony said as she strained against him. Dennis struggled to his feet and helped subdue the distraught woman. She collapsed, sobbing, her head in her hands.
    â€œPlease, Mrs. Jablonski,” Dennis implored. “Your kids are scared. They need you.”
    She fought for control, gulping air. The two children raced over to her and buried themselves in her skirt. She talked quietly to them, submerging her own grief. The detectives waited while she calmed them. Dennis brought her a glass of water, but she would not take it.
    â€œAre you gonna be okay?” Dennis asked.
    â€œWhat do you care?” the woman shot back angrily. “You cops never cared about me or Marty before. All you wanna do is lock him up.”
    Anthony saw no reason to argue with Mrs. Jablonski. He held out the search warrant. “This is a court order that gives us the right to search your apartment. Detective Dennis will sit with you while I conduct the search.”
    Mrs. Jablonski suddenly looked frightened. Anthony wondered why, but he did not ask. If there was something hidden in the tiny apartment, it would be easy to find. He decided to start in the bedroom that the adults used. He could hear Detective Dennis talking soothingly to Mrs. Jablonski as he tossed the covers off the small bed where the Jablonskis slept. He knelt down and looked under it but saw nothing.
    There was men’s and women’s clothing in the cheap wooden chest of drawers but nothing else. When he was through with it, Anthony opened the door of the closet. Dirty men’s clothes lay crumpled on the floor, butthere was nothing under them. Anthony peered up at a shelf that was just above his