Witness to Murder Read Online Free PDF

Tony," Joe said as they walked into the kitchen, where Tony Prito was dumping flour in a large bowl to make dough. "Annie around?"
    "Joe, sorry about your troubles," Tony said, greeting the Hardys after turning on the mixer. "Let's move away from the noise," he said, and strolled over to a corner. "Annie won't be in today. But, well, she was here earlier. She sneaked in during the night and slept in the back room."
    "She slept here last night?" Joe didn't know what to make of this news. "Why?" "This morning when I found her she asked me not to tell you. But under the circumstances, think you should know. She's scared, Joe, really scared." Tony crossed back to the mixer to check on the dough.
    "But — but Phil Sidler is dead. What is she afraid of now?" Joe drummed his fingers on a countertop. "Where was she going when she left here?" he asked.
    "Don't know." Tony raised his voice to be heard over the whir of the machine. "I guess she went back to where she's staying. She asked for her pay this morning and quit her job — "
    "Let's go, Frank," Joe said, cutting off Tony.
    They dashed to the van and took off for Annie's apartment. "Let me see Annie alone, Frank?" Joe asked as Frank snugged up to the curb.
    "Sorry, pal. I'm going in with you." Frank thought of Phil's room, and he had a bad feeling about this one.
    Joe shrugged and bolted. Frank followed as soon as he had pocketed the keys.
    Inside, the old apartment building was even worse than it looked on the outside. The stairway was dark — all the bulbs were broken or burned out. The institutional green paint was peeling, and the combined odors of stale cooking grease and damp turned the boys' stomachs.
    Joe referred to the row of mailboxes in the entryway before taking the stairs two at a time to the third floor. The creak of each step accented the soft thud of Joe's sneakers hitting the treads.
    Right behind him, Frank snatched at Joe's arm when they reached the third floor. "Joe, wait. Whoever searched Phil's apartment may have done the same to Annie's. Or maybe he's doing it now. If we go busting in there — "
    Joe shrugged off Frank's grasp. "You're right. If they've hurt Annie, I'll ... " Clenching his teeth, Joe forced himself to slow down. The boys crept slowly along, looking in both directions.
    The door to the first apartment in the third-floor hall was ajar. Joe glanced in. A small child with huge brown eyes peered up at him. Frank stepped around to see what Joe was looking at. He smiled.
    "ramgue, shut that door and get in here," a shrill voice sounded. But the child only stuck her thumb in her mouth and continued to stare at Frank, who waved.
    He moved back to glance over the banister, viewing the entire stairway. They'd seen no one but the child, and everything seemed normal enough. Somewhere, the muffled sound of a blaring television set spewed out - a game show, the announcer's voice probably describing dozens of wonderful prizes.
    Joe pointed to the last door in the hallway. Quietly they made their way down to it. Each took a position on either side of the door. Joe started to knock, but at his touch the door creaked open.
    "Annie? What — " Joe called out. He pushed the door back and stepped into the room, Frank acting as his shadow.
    The room was in the same condition as the one in the Bayport Downtowner. Chairs were overturned, the upholstery ripped open, dirty cotton stuffing was strewn beside them, looking like the spilled guts from a corpse. One wall of the room had been turned into a makeshift kitchen pots and, pans now spilled out in front of it.
    Almost soundlessly Joe headed for a room off to the left. He swung the door open.
    The bedroom was in a similar state. Blankets had been tossed to the floor in a heap. The mattress had been slashed and gutted the chairs. Drawers were piled on the floor, their contents dumped out. Annie's clothing had been tossed everywhere. A red sweater hung limply from the mirror like a flag on a windless day.
    Joe,