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“And you’re not. Did you see anybody, hear anything, before you looked in Ledo’s?”
“No. I told Officer Morales how I got up at five-forty, like I do when I’m working at the coffee shop. I took a shower. The water doesn’t get really hot, and it’s really, really noisy. I got ready for work. I have to work a shift at the club tonight, so I packed a change for that, and I got a GoBar and tube of cola, ’cause I don’t like coffee. Then I got my coat and stuff, and went out—it was about quarter after six. And I looked in because the door was wide open.”
“Have you seen anyone come around here you didn’t recognize?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes people sleep on the floor downstairs. I don’t know them, but they don’t bother anybody. And it’s been really cold. And the bug person came once.”
“Bug person?”
“To kill bugs. I guess the super ordered it, but when I asked if I could get somebody in here to do it on my place, the super just laughed at me. Guy’s a dick anyway.”
“Can you describe this person? The exterminator. Male, female, build, race, age?”
“God, I don’t know.” She drank a little more tea, blew upward and stirred her fringe of blue bangs. “I guess I thought it was a guy, but I don’t really know. He had on this hood and mask, and had this tank and sprayer. I just peeked out a minute.”
“Did you talk to the bug person?”
“I just asked through the crack of the door if he was doing the whole building. And he sort of nodded. I thought, good, ’cause the cockroaches creep me. I straightened up some, you know how you do when maybe somebody’s coming in your place, but when I looked out again, he was gone.”
She smiled wanly. “Cockroaches are still here.”
“Did you notice any sort of logo, or name?”
“I really didn’t. I’m sorry.”
“I’d like you to work with a police artist.”
The pink flush had faded away, and now she gnawed off what was left of her lip dye. “I didn’t really see anything.”
“You never know. We can have you taken down to Central, and the artist might help you remember some details you don’t realize you noticed.”
“You’re going to arrest me?”
“No.” Eve slid off the arm of the sofa so she sat beside Misty. “Nobody’s going to arrest you. Nobody’s going to send you back. You’re not in trouble. You’re helping us out, and I can clear two hundred for the help if you work with the artist.”
“You— Two hundred?”
“That’s right. We can use the help, Misty. Ledo was a screwup, and he hit on you.”
“Yeah, but, well, he didn’t get pushy or anything like some guys do.”
“That’s right. And somebody killed him. You may be able to help us find out who.”
“Look. I gotta work, pay the rent. The two hundred, that’d be sweet, but I need regular pay. Pete’ll fire me if I don’t come in for my shift.”
“Do you like working for Pete?”
“It’s a job. I gotta pay the rent or I’ll get booted out.”
“Right. You like living here?”
For the first time a glimmer of a real smile eked through. “I’d have to be blind, deaf, and crazy to like living here, but it’s what I got, and it’s better than what I had.”
Eve glanced at Roarke. “I might be able to help you find a decent place where you could stay until you find better work, and better than this.”
“I’m not going in a group home. I’m not—”
“Just hang on a minute. Nobody’s going to make you do anything. Just hang a minute.”
