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“Is this a hard one?” David asked, cocking his head. “A choice. Yes or no.”
“How can you help me with Alice?”
“I know stuff, as you put it. And I have the time.”
Be
“Fine.” David nodded. “Though before I go, I am kind of curious how Alice got in here. Aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course. Obviously it wasn’t through the front door, since the cops had already broken in and nailed it shut.”
“Maybe we can find out.”
“But you’re not trained in stuff like that, are you?”
“No, but I’ll figure it out. I always do.”
Be
“Let’s get to work.” David went over to the sink with his empty coffee mug, rinsed it under the faucet, then opened the ski
If David Holland wasn’t Superman, he was basically the same thing.
Fifteen minutes later, he was kneeling in front of her backdoor in his silly sweatpants, ru
“David, do Navy SEALs ever give up?”
“What do you think?”
“Guessed as much.” Be
“Way to go.” David rose to his feet, rising up on powerful thighs, and unlocked the door with the old-fashioned key in the lock. “You always keep this key in the lock?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s what happened. She cut the glass, unlocked the door, and replaced the pane.” David ran a fingertip along the inside of the pane and his finger came away with white gunk on it. “She puttied it back in place. It would have stayed that way if you hadn’t leaned on it so hard.”
Be
“If she’s the one who did it. She could have had an accomplice, or she could simply be that professional, as you put it.”
Be
“Are you? She’s your twin.”
“Right, of course. I forgot I was very smart.” Be
“Be
“Who is this?” Be
“This is Jim Mattuck with the Philly News, and I was wondering if you would care to comment-”
“Excuse me, Jim. You’re calling my home late at night, and I have no further comment on my arrest. All charges against me will be dropped after the preliminary hearing, I guarantee it.”
“I wasn’t calling for comment on your arrest, Ms. Rosato.” The reporter paused, suddenly uncertain. “Haven’t you… seen the news? On TV?”
“No.” Be
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but there was a murder tonight.”
18
Boxy TV news vans littered Walnut Street, their tall microwave towers cutting into the night sky, with their logos, painted in cheery colors, incongruous in the grim scene. Red lights arched through the darkness, flashing from the bubble tops of white police cruisers that blocked the street, and a uniformed cop directed traffic away from the number street and kept it moving up Walnut. Onlookers gathered behind splintered blue-and-white sawhorses that cordoned off the area, mostly teenage boys with backward baseball caps. They tried to get on camera, waving, jumping, and flashing peace signs behind TV reporters talking into black foam microphones in pools of fake light, softened to a more flattering level by wiggly circular reflector screens held up by assistants with aching arms.
Be
“You can’t pass, here, miss,” the cop said tiredly. He was heavyset and he’d said it thirty times already tonight. “This is a crime scene.”
“I know, I’m a lawyer. My name is Be
“Sorry, Ms. Rosato, I can’t let you through.” The cop shook his head, his eyes shaded and barely visible under the shiny patent brim of his cap. “Only police perso
“Come on, please.” Be
Be
“No can do. Now back off. Step away from the-”
“Who’s been assigned to the case from Homicide? I know some of those guys.” Be