“Tell me what happened after you walked in the front door of the building.”
“Checked my mail—”
“Anything?”
“Preapproved credit cards?”
“Go on.”
“Went upstairs, talked to my neighbor for twenty seconds, and went inside.”
“The door was locked?”
I nodded. As a matter of fact, I had had the lock on my apartment changed after Christmas. So a whole lot of good that had done. “Yeah. Nothing seemed weird. But there he was, just lying on the floor.”
“Where, exactly?”
“Beside the couch. On his stomach.”
Calvin was writing as I talked. “Then what?”
“Umm… I shut the door. And… then I checked the guy.”
“That was dangerous.”
“I had a dictionary.”
“What?”
I shook my head. “Never mind.”
“Did you touch anything?”
“Can you lift fingerprints off soot and embers?”
“Don’t be smart, Sebastian.”
“I touched Davis. I mean, he didn’t appear to be breathing, so I pushed him onto his back.” I touched my chest as I spoke. “He had blood here. And on the floor.”
Calvin glanced up. “Was it fresh?”
“I—I don’t think so, not entirely. He wasn’t stiff, so if rigor had set in, it hadn’t gotten further than his face.”
Calvin stared.
“So that makes it as early as one or two, most likely, though, around four or five yesterday evening that he was killed.” I waved my hand while talking. “And you know, he couldn’t have been alone.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s not like someone shot him and then carried a dead guy into my building, up three flights, and deposited him in my place. So if at least one person was with him, he would have been killed while they were inside. I don’t think it was a knife wound, but if he were shot, the killer would have used a silencer, right? I have neighbors all on different schedules—someone would have heard and reported a gunshot.”
Calvin set his pen down and stared at me.
“And unless he was deranged, he definitely didn’t offer to be some sick sacrifice, so he trusted the person he was with. Nothing in my apartment was out of place, so no struggle.”
Calvin grunted.
“And I guess the killer brought those clothes with them. The petticoat, I mean. Killed the guy, dressed him….” I frowned and tapped my chin. “But if nothing was stolen or ransacked—this was definitely deliberate. Do you think someone was trying to frame me?”
