Sleeping Bones by Katherine V. Forrest

Author:Katherine V. Forrest [Forrest, Katherine V.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781935226666
Publisher: Spinsters Ink
Published: 2013-08-01T14:00:00+00:00

* * *

Meyer Silverman answered her ring promptly but planted his small frame in the doorway, stroking his beard with a thumb and forefinger as he peered up at Kate. “Where is the young man detective?”

“Busy at the moment. May I come in?”

Hooking his thumbs through his suspenders, he shook his head.

“Mr. Silverman, I have just a few questions.”

“I know nothing.”

“They’re very important questions.”

“To you. Not to me.”

“Let me explain. I can sympathize with your suspicion of the police. But that rental unit will be sealed until my questions are answered. I won’t be the only one asking them. Police officers will be here constantly—”

He turned and shuffled away; she closed the door quietly and followed him into the front parlor.

“Ask,” he said, not seating himself.

“Mr. Silverman,” she said, standing by the window and holding its curtain aside, “who was here during the past few weeks or so? I need to know about everyone you observed visiting Mr. Layton.”

“The man who’s there now.”

Shapiro. She asked, “Who else?”

“Two women, this week. One old, the other tall, blond, no-nonsense.” He made a pretense of walking, swinging his arms vigorously.

Concealing a smile, Kate nodded; it was a more than passable description of Peri Layton.

“She was in the photograph you showed me yesterday,” he added in confirmation.

“Were the two women here together?”

“No. Days apart.”

“What did the other one look like?”

“Old.”

“Tell me more.”

He shrugged. “Old.”

“A white woman? What color was her hair? Did she have trouble walking? What was she wearing?”

“White woman, short gray hair.” Stroking his beard as he gazed at her, he added, “Even with the glasses, these days I don’t see so good.”

She smiled, glad to alter her opinion that old women were just as invisible to a male peer like Meyer Silverman as they were to most of the rest of the population.

“Try and remember when they were here, what day.”

He leaned back against the wall, contemplating her.

“The young one, Monday. The old one, the next day.”

“Did you see anyone else today, or this week?”

“A policeman yesterday. Tall, fat.”

That would have been Donaldson, with skeleton keys to open Layton’s door. “Anyone else?”

He shook his head. “Only the other detective.”

“What other detective?”

He looked at her in exasperation. “You don’t even know who comes here from your own police station?”

Recovering her balance, she asked, “When was this?”

“After you and the young man detective came here the first time. Tried to sneak his way in,” he said indignantly.

“How do you mean?”

Up on his toes, he took a few mincing steps. “Sneaking down the path like this, looking this way and that.”

“Did you confront him?”

“I confront no one. People trip my alarm, I look to see who’s there.”

“Can you tell me what he looked like?”

“Older.” He shrugged. “Big. Big for Chinese.”

Chinese. “How did you know he was a detective?”

“The clothes.” He plucked at his gray cardigan. “A suit and tie, like the other young man detective. He showed me identification. Like yours.”

She took out her badge. “Like this?”

“Of course like that. I’m not blind, Miss Detective.

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