Page 75 of D for Dead

‘You need to come and lock the door behind me,’ he reminded.

Amy sighed, looked like she was going to object, but stopped. She pushed her glasses onto her head and gave a tight smile. ‘Sure.’

Vic instructed her, as he always did, not to unlock the door when he rang the buzzer until she was sure it was him on the other side.

‘It’s okay, I’ve got it.’

She closed the door behind him and he hesitated for a moment. Amy was being a little testy today. It was unlike her, as she was normally easy-going. Hoping it would be a brief thing, Vic headed down to the lobby to collect her mail.

No more dead rats he was pleased to note. Amy had a couple of letters – bills by the look of them – and a package. It felt squishy: some mail order clothing no doubt. Maybe underwear, Vic thought hopefully, picturing what she would look like in a matching black silky bra and panties set.

He felt himself harden as the elevator door started to close.

‘Hold the elevator. Hold the elevator.’

Peering out, he saw the crazy lady from 12b heading furiously towards him on her walking frame.

Oh crap, no.

He hit the button for the top floor again, willing the doors to close.

Vic didn’t do old people at the best of times; they tended to spook him, especially ones who stunk of lavender and mothballs and wore thick lenses that magnified their eyes. This lady had the glasses and the lavender smell thing going on. She was also hard of hearing and crazy as a coot. He knew because he’d been stuck in the elevator with her a couple of days back and, as well as having to attempt a conversation with her on the ride up, he’d then been tricked into helping her back to her apartment.

He guessed it was his own fault for playing up the fact he was a cop. Once she knew, she’d told him all about her daughter’s missing poodle, Ringo, asking him to open an investigation.

‘Officer Bozo?’

Vic cringed. He’d told the dumb old broad his name half a dozen times and she was still getting it wrong. Glancing at the floor, he pretended he hadn’t seen or heard her, relieved when the door finally slid shut, and made a mental note to fetch the mail at a different time in future.

Amy was in a better mood when he returned to the apartment. He pressed the buzzer, waited patiently while she unlocked the door and walked back in to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

Huckleberry sat on the rug in the living room, a rope toy in his mouth and she went and sat on the floor beside him, grabbing the end of the toy for a game of tug of war.

‘I made coffee. I’ve left you a cup on the counter and there are some doughnuts Officer Peterson left if you want them.’

‘Great, thanks.’ Vic watched the dog going nuts rolling on his back as he tried to wrestle the rope toy away from her, before dumping the mail on the table and heading into the kitchen. He had spied the doughnuts when he’d arrived and been wondering when she was going to offer him one. Pulling a sugared ring out of the bag, he took a bite.

‘So what have you been up to all morning?’ he asked through his mouthful, as he walked back into the living room. ‘Working on your next book?’

‘Yeah, I’m trying to.’ Amy pulled a face. ‘It’s not easy to concentrate with everything going on.’

Sensing her frustration, Huckleberry dropped the rope and laid his chin on her thigh. She reached down, stroking his head and rubbing his ears.

‘I guess so. So what’s the new one about?’

Vic wasn’t a reader and not really interested in what Amy was writing, but he needed to get her talking. No chance of hitting the jackpot if she locked herself away in her bedroom again.

‘It’s supernatural, a follow-up to the book I’ve just released. No murder. I’m not sure I could write about death after what has happened.’

‘What, like ghosts and stuff?’ Vic snorted. ‘You know that shit isn’t real.’

‘You don’t know for sure.’

‘I know dead is dead. People don’t come back and haunt you.’

‘No you don’t know that. How can you?’ Amy seemed amused he was challenging her. ‘So you’re a non-believer then, Officer Boaz?’

‘It’s Vic.’