Omnibus 01 - Three in the Morning by Noel Hynd

Author:Noel Hynd [Noel Hynd]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Cat Publications
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Twenty-three

The next morning NYPD Detective Janet Solderstrom pulled her unmarked car to the curb before 112 East Seventy-Third Street. She stepped out of her vehicle and drew a breath. She was a large woman, broad-shouldered and sturdy, standing almost six feet. She had frequently been mistaken for a man back when she walked a beat and wore a uniform.

She walked to the front door of the town house and knocked. She waited.

Solderstrom looked at the neighbors’ houses and scanned across the street. She felt a low rumbling of displeasure within her. The money these people spent. They threw around millions of dollars to live on a block like this. In some cases they hadn’t even made their own fortunes. They’d inherited. Or, she felt, ripped it off in some sleazy real estate or stock transaction. Where was justice? Janet Solderstrom ached for the opportunity to bring down one of these hotshots.

She knocked louder the second time. Several seconds after her follow-up knock, the door opened. A young man in his late twenties with a handsome but haggard, tired face loomed into view and answered.

Solderstrom pulled her gold shield from the breast pocket of her worn jacket. “Police Department,” she said. “I’m Detective Janet Solderstrom.”

She was such a large woman that she filled the doorway. Dressed in a plain brown suit which could have been a man’s, she had pulled-back hair and a hard, pinkish face. She gave Geiger a tight smile.

“Of course, of course,” Geiger said. “Come in.”

“Thank you,” the detective replied.

Geiger led Solderstrom into his home. She was ready to dislike him immediately, living in a place like this. But as she followed him, she felt her own attitude ease slightly. This young man, didn’t seem as condescending as so many of the rest. Maybe he’d be okay.

What she couldn’t figure out was why he looked familiar. There was something about him. When he led her into his library and she saw the piano, and all the awards and accolades that were scattered around, she put two and two together to get four.

Geiger was capable of being impeccably polite. After a few seconds, he turned and offered a hand.

“I’m Rolf Geiger,” he said. “Sorry if I seem upset. But I am upset. That’s why we called the police.”

Diana came into view and introduced herself. “I have no idea how many police would be involved,” Geiger said. “Are there more coming?”

“Only if I call for them,” Solderstrom answered. Her hands went on automatic pilot, pulling a ballpoint pen and a small notebook out of a jacket pocket.

“So you had an intruder last night? A burglar? What’s the story?” Solderstrom asked. “Right here is fine,” Rolf Geiger said.

He motioned toward a new sofa. They sat, and he went through the events of the previous day. They had come home from a museum exhibition and been home for a while when their house had been intruded upon by a quirky older man. A watcher. A stalker. An aging fan who looked harmless but who was growing aggressive.

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