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“Various relatives and homeless sorts. There’s a guy named Snoot who’s been with Victor for a bunch of years. He’s not the sharpest tack on the corkboard, but he manages to get the garbage out on time.”
“Would Snoot kill old ladies?”
“Probably. If he could find them.”
Footsteps shuffled toward us, and Victor popped out from behind one of the floor-to-ceiling racks of organized junk.
“What can I do for you girls?” he asked, cigarette stuck to his lower lip.
“I need a flashlight,” I told him.
“Big or little?”
“Medium.”
“Is this a fashion accessory, or do you want to be able to see something with it? I got some pretty red and blue ones, but they aren’t worth snot.”
“I’m thinking Maglite.”
“That’s serious flashlighting.”
We followed him to the back of the store and waited while he sorted through bins and boxes.
“Did you know Lois Fratelli?” I asked him.
“Sure. Her whole family shops here. She was in just before she was murdered. She was looking for a shower curtain liner.”
“That’s pretty good that you’d remember that,” Lula said.
Victor dragged on his cigarette. “Girlie, I got a mind like a steel trap.”
“You shouldn’t be smoking,” Lula said. “It’s bad for you. What’s your doctor say about your smoking?”
Victor moved a box to get to another box. “My doctor’s dead.”
“How about the other women who were murdered?” I asked him. “Did they shop here to
o?”
“I expect so. We give a discount.” He opened a box and pulled out a Maglite. “How’s this?”
“It’s perfect,” I told him.
“What are you going to do with it? Hit someone over the head?”
“If I have to.”
Victor gave a bark of laughter that brought on a fit of coughing and wheezing.
“Twelve bucks,” he finally said. “Special price for you.”
I paid him in cash. “Do you sell a lot of Venetian blind cord?”
“Yep. A fair amount. There’s a lot of Venetian blinds out there.”
“All those women were strangled with Venetian blind cord,” I told him.
“I heard that.” He shook his head. “Terrible. Just terrible.”
