clothes, and vacuums her bedroom. Then she disappears for a while. I guess she’s vacuuming her whole apartment. The she comes back into the bedroom, puts away the vacuum, and disappears again. Sometimes she gives a little wave.”
“You mean she knows you’re watching her?”
“I expect half the neighborhood is watching her,” Stone said.
Dino abruptly sat up straight in his chair. “Look at that,” he said.
“I am looking at it,” Stone replied.
“No; there’s a guy.”
“Where?”
“Standing in the bedroom door.”
Stone looked. Dino was right; a shadowy figure stood in the half darkness of the doorway. “Her boyfriend, maybe?”
“No; not the way he’s standing. She doesn’t know he’s there.”
“She hasn’t seen him, and she can’t hear anything over the vacuum noise.”
The woman continued to vacuum, turning toward the window. The man began to move toward her. He was short and slender, with bushy, dark hair—almost an Afro, though he was white.
“Oh, shit,” Dino said. “He’s got a knife.”
Stone saw that Dino was right. The man walked up behind the woman, snaked an arm around her neck, and yanked her backward, pulling her chin up.
Dino was on his feet, unlocking the window, shoving it open, grabbing the pistol at his belt. “Don’t you do it, you son of a bitch!” he screamed.
Stone sat, riveted to his chair. The man was looking directly at them.
Dino raised his pistol and fired twice. Two holes appeared in the upper left-hand corner of the window.
“You’ve got his attention,” Stone said.
It didn’t seem to matter that he knew he was being watched. The man drew the knife’s blade across the struggling woman’s neck, and blood began to spill down her naked body. She collapsed, but he held her up with the hand under her chin, widening the wound in her neck.
“Let her go, and I’ll shoot you where you stand, you bastard!” Dino screamed.
Instead, the man began to walk backward toward the door, dragging the dying woman, holding her up as a shield. Then he dropped her and left the room.
“Call nine-one-one!” Dino said, grabbing his coat. “I’m going over there; do you know the address?”
“I don’t know the number; you’ll have to guess,” Stone replied, picking up the phone.
“Wait here and make sure he doesn’t leave the house through the garden,” Dino said, running for the door.
“Dino!” Stone shouted, stopping him in his tracks.
“What?”
“I know the guy,” Stone said. “I know the killer.”
“Later,” Dino said, running down the stairs.
Stone reported the homicide, then unlocked a cabinet, took out a pistol, and stood, watching the back of the house. Maybe he could get a shot at the guy. Two minutes passed, then Dino appeared in the woman’s bedroom, followed by a uniformed officer. He gave the uniform some instructions, and the officer left the room. Dino picked up the phone and dialed a number.
Stone saw the light on his phone flash. He picked it up. “Dino?”
“Get over here,” Dino said, then hung up.
Stone stuck the pistol in his belt, grabbed a coat, and ran out of the house.
6
S TONE JOGGED QUICKLY AROUND THE BLOCK, looking at every person he passed, hoping to see the frizzy-haired perpetrator. Finding the house was easy; two black and whites were double-parked outside, their flashers working. A uniformed cop stood guard at the top of the house’s steps. Stone flashed his retired officer’s ID and was admitted to the house.
He could see by the mailboxes that the original town house had been divided into apartments; the door to the ground-floor unit stood open, and he walked in, breathing hard. Two uniformed patrolmen stood in the entrance hall. “Is Lieutenant Bacchetti upstairs?” Stone asked, flashing his ID.
“Yeah,” one of the men said.
Stone ran up the stairs. He was met by another uniform and by the two detectives he had met at Susan Bean’s, Andy Anderson and Michael Kelly.
“What are
Autumn Reed, Julia Clarke
David Batcher Amber Hunt, David Batcher