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“Is your father still living?”
She shook her head. “He died more than ten years ago of cirrhosis of the liver.”
“So the two of you didn’t grow up together?”
“Lenny came to live with my family when he was thirteen and I was a baby.”
“Where did your family live?”
“Right here in the District, about four blocks from here.”
“And where did he live prior to coming to your home?”
“Somewhere local. I’m not sure where. We weren’t exactly close. He was out of the house before I went to kindergarten.”
“Why did he come to live with you when he did?”
“Something happened with his mother. I’m not sure what, but the police were involved. I never have heard the whole story.”
“You said you were his only living half sibling,” Freddie said. “There were others?”
“One other,” she said on a sigh. “I had another brother, Michael. He was four years older than me.”
“What happened to him?” Gonzo asked.
“I don’t know. He disappeared when he was in high school. Lenny always said Michael was why he became a police officer. He said he never stopped looking for Michael.”
Or,Gonzo thought,Lenny knew exactly what happened to Michael and became a police officer to cover up his crimes.
“What was your relationship with Lenny like as adults?”
“Distant. I talked to him once or twice a year. After his trial, I received a letter from an attorney telling me he’d deeded the house to me and the kids.”
“Did that surprise you?”
“Very much so, but it came at a good time. I had recently gotten divorced and was struggling financially.”
“Were there any caveats or special instructions included in the letter?”
“Just that his things were stored in the basement, so that needed to remain locked and off-limits to me and the kids.” Her eyes darted between them. “Am I going to lose the house?”
“I’m not sure what’s going to happen. It’s possibly a major crime scene.”
“What does that mean for me? That’s our home.” Her chin wobbled. “I don’t know what I’ll do if we can’t go back there.”
“Have you seen or talked to your brother since he went to prison?”
She shook her head. “I wrote to him to thank him for the house and asked if he’d like us to visit, but I never heard back. I took that as a no.”
A young girl opened the door. “Mommy?”
“I’m here, honey.” She looked up at Gonzo. “Is there anything else?”
“Not right now. If you’ll give me your phone number, I’ll be in touch about the house.”
She took the pad and pen he held out to her and wrote her number. “Whatever my brother did, it had nothing to do with us.”
“We understand. We’ll do what we can for you.”
