Page 140 of Fifty-Fifty

Harry watched, but after a while he could no longer tell exactly what Bloch was looking for. He turned off his flashlight, opened the door to the en suite and went inside. There were no windows in the bathroom, and Harry closed the door and

flicked on the lights. There was no shower – just a toilet and small sink. It had probably once been a closet. There was a large and luxurious bathroom next to

Frank’s bedroom with a Jacuzzi tub and shower big enough to fit a basketball team.

A combination of the cold and time meant Harry needed to use the bathroom.

He lifted the toilet seat, and bit the finger on one glove when he heard something. He stopped dead, a chill running over his skin.

‘Harry!’ came the shout, again.

It was Bloch.

‘There’s no windows in here. I needed to put the light on to use the john.

Sorry, I’m an old man.’

‘Harry!’ came the shout again, more urgent this time.

‘What is it?’

‘Come out,’ said Bloch.

Harry turned one hundred and eighty degrees and took two steps forward. He reached for the handle. Grabbed it, turned it slowly. The metal catch groaned as it was turned.

‘Stop,’ said Bloch.

‘What?’

‘Are you turning the handle?’

‘Yes. Don’t worry about that noise. The mechanism squeaks. It’s just me.’

As much as Harry liked Kate, he wasn’t warming to Bloch so much. She hardly spoke, and had as much personality as the john behind him. Still, he knew she was smart and spoke when she had something to say, irrespective of how she

said it. If Harry was on a case, he’d want Bloch with him, but he knew that he

wouldn’t want to share a beer with her after hours. At his age he didn’t think he could survive too many of Bloch’s conversations.

He turned the handle, slowly. The handle stopped once it had fully turned, and Harry flicked off the light and opened the door. He came out to see Bloch staring at him, a strange look on her face.

‘I know why Harper was killed,’ she said.

Harry’s lips moved, and a sound even came out, but it wasn’t a word. He just mumbled until he’d recovered enough to get control of his tongue.

‘Y-Y-You what?’

Bloch’s lips parted, she breathed in, about to tell him what she’d discovered while Harry was in the john, but she never got started. Instead, her eyes flared wide. Both of them stood still.

There was a noise.

A door closing.

The front door. A metallic slam and jangle as keys were dumped on the marble kitchen top. Someone was downstairs.

Bloch put her index finger to her lips. Harry stood very still. He took shallow breaths, and held Bloch’s gaze. If the cops were downstairs, they were in serious trouble. If it was Sofia, they had a lot of explaining to do.

‘Under the bed. Now. Quietly,’ whispered Bloch.