Murder Straight Up

25

The first place I looked was Kelly Ford’s. The heavy elm trees played shadows off the street again. The night smelled of apple blossoms. I walked up the wide wooden steps. I wanted to have a bouquet of yellow roses in my hand, come a-courting. It was that kind of night.

I went up the stairs to the second floor as quietly as I could. The hallway smelled of new paint. At her door I pressed my ear to the wood and listened. Nothing. Just the sounds of the apartment house. I walked down to the end of the hallway, where the window stood open. I climbed through and got on the fire-escape grating and walked over to one of her rear windows and looked inside. Darkness. Then I eased up the window and went inside.

I spent the next five minutes looking for something to make my job easier when I confronted Fitzgerald with what he’d done. I went through closets and drawers, looked under the bed, even under the sink. I had no idea what I was looking for. Under a quilt in a corner of the living room I found the hope chest, and inside the hope chest I found exactly what I hadn’t been looking for. I found the one thing that made me feel stupid and terrible and very, very old all at the same time.

I took it with me and left.