The heater in Jepson’s pickup was as old as the shocks, and my feet turned numb as we bounced over ruts. I grabbed the edges of the seat, trying to minimize the jolts to my sore muscles.
“Sorry about that, ma’am. Vic, I mean. Kind of like the roads in Baghdad, just without the gunfire and the IEDs and so on. Although this part of town, I guess we could get some gunfire,” he added as we moved into the grimmer, gang-ridden streets west of Western.
We got to Nadia’s building ahead of the others. While we waited, we talked about ways and means.
“I don’t want all seven of us barging in on Urbanke,” I said. “Why don’t we let Mr. Contreras and Petra wait in Nadia’s apartment with the dogs while you and I talk to the guy.”
It was hard to persuade Mr. Contreras that this was a good idea—he hadn’t come along just to sit on the sidelines and cheer for me, thanks very much. In the end, Tim offered to babysit Petra and the dogs while my neighbor and the staff sergeant and I went into Urbanke’s.
A bit of good luck: he was home. A bit of bad luck: he remembered me and did not wish to see me.
“You’re not a cop,” he squawked over the intercom. “You can’t make me talk to you.”
“Right, Mr. Urbanke,” I bellowed at my end. “We don’t need to talk. We just want to ask you about Alexandra’s journal.”
Another bit of good luck: someone came out of the building just as I was debating whether to open the outer door on my own. The man looked at us suspiciously, and I grinned happily.
“We’re the new tenants in 3E. Thanks! The key they gave us for the outside door doesn’t work.”
“No dogs allowed in this building,” he said.
“They’re not moving in, just helping my friends set up housekeeping. We’ll see you.”
My parade swept past him and up the stairs to the third floor. I opened the door to Nadia’s place with my picklocks, then knocked on Urbanke’s. Petra stood in Nadia’s doorway, watching. Mitch and Peppy were behind her, trying to push between her legs. When Urbanke didn’t answer his door, Jepson began kicking it, and Mitch started to bark. In about thirty seconds, we’d drawn a crowd, people from two of the other apartments on the floor and a woman bending over the railing on the fourth floor.
“No dogs allowed in here.” “Who are they? Someone call the cops.” “Call the police and let them rob us in our beds? Call the building management.” “The building management? Don’t be insane—they still haven’t fixed my broken window.” “Because you’re three months behind on—”
“Mr. Urbanke has been really helpful in looking after my niece’s home since Nadia was murdered.” I cut into the flow. He has a key to her apartment, he took her cat. But he also took some of her other things—I’m sure for safekeeping! Security is terrible in this building, and he didn’t want anyone to steal her jewelry. But I need to get it back to give to my sister. Nadia’s mother is so overcome with grief, she can’t come herself. So she asked me to stop by and collect her jewelry.”
“That’s a lie!” Urbanke had opened his door just enough that we could see his nose and mouth. “She’s no aunt. She was going through Nadia’s apartment herself, pretending to be a detective.”
“I saw you go into the girl’s apartment the day after she died,” a woman on the upper landing said to Urbanke, fortunately not to me. “Poor Nadia, you were always looking at her like—like this dog here looking at a bone.” She pointed at Mitch, who had pushed past my cousin and was nosing around the crack in Urbanke’s door. “And then she’s barely dead, and you let yourself into her place. How you even got a key to her door, that’s what I want to know.”
“She gave it to me,” he said.
Mitch suddenly yelped, a piercing shriek of pain. A white ball of fur bolted between his legs, crossed the hall, and ran into Nadia’s place. The dog’s nose was bleeding.
“What’d you do to my dog?” Mr. Contreras demanded as Urbanke opened the door, shouting, “Ixcuina! Chain up that vicious dog or I’ll shoot him. Ixcuina! Ixcuina, kitty, kitty!”
Urbanke ran after the cat, tripping over Peppy, who was standing in Nadia’s doorway barking her head off. Petra was doubled over with laughter.
I grabbed her shoulders. “Get those dogs under control! Now! This is an investigation, not Comedy Central.”
I didn’t wait for her response but took the opportunity to go into Urbanke’s apartment. Jepson and Radke followed me. And Mr. Contreras. And two of the people from the building. And Mitch.