It was already feeling cool in the lobby of Nikki’s apartment building as they came in. The elevator doors opened and several of her neighbors got off with suitcases and overnighters. Some said they were bound for Upper West Side hotels; others were off to couch surf with relatives in Westchester County. When Heat and Rook were about to get on for the ride up, a hand parted the doors. It was Nikki’s building super, a cheerful Pole named Jerzy. “Hello, Miss Nikki, and hello, you, sir.”
“Going to get cold tonight, Jerzy,” she said.
“Oh, very cold. Be glad you not have goldfish,” he said. “Mrs. Nathan, she have to move her goldfish to Flushing.”
Rook said, “Is it me or is there something sad about hearing goldfish and Flushing in the same breath?” When Jerzy just stared at him blankly, he said, “It’s probably a translation thing.”
“Anyway, Miss Nikki, I stop to tell you is all taken care of. I let the man from cable company in to fix cable TV.”
By reflex, she almost said thank you, but stopped herself. Nikki had not booked any service call from a cable TV repairman. “Is he up there now?”
The super said, “I don’t know. He went up an hour ago.”
Heat stepped off the elevator back into the lobby and Rook followed. “Let’s take the stairs, shall we?” As she led him on their climb to her floor, Nikki opened her coat and reached once again for the gun that wasn’t there.
THIRTEEN
Heat and Rook reached the landing at her floor and stopped to scope out the hallway, which was quiet. Rook whispered, “Shouldn’t we call the police?” Nikki thought it over and knew deep down she should. But there was also a pride thing that kept her, an experienced cop, from pulling resources from actual crime responses in the middle of a city emergency for a suspicion that could be nothing.
“I am the police,” she whispered back. “Kind of.” Sorting through her door keys, she slipped the one for her deadbolt off the split ring. That way, she could both avoid jangle at the door and be able to insert a key simultaneously in each of her locks to make her entry quick and surprising.
Treading lightly up the hallway, staying close to the wall the whole way, they reached her door and stopped. Nikki hand signaled for Rook to stay where he was, then made a fluid dancer’s move, crouching low under the surveillance hole, to the opposite side of the door and landed without a sound. She stayed low and listened at the jamb, then gave him a head shake. Rising up slightly and balancing on the balls of her feet so her leg muscles were coiled, Heat readied each key at the opening of its lock. She mouthed a silent three count, nodding her head to mark cadence for him, then ran the keys home, twisted the locks open, and threw herself low into her apartment calling out, “NYPD, don’t move!”
Rook flew in right behind her, following the procedures he had observed back on his ride-along—keeping close but not in a line that made for an easy target, then fanning himself to the side so he could be her eyes there and protect her flank from a surprise.
There was no one in the foyer, the dining room, or the living room. As Rook followed her past the kitchen and down the hall to clear the two bedrooms, baths, and closets, he noticed that somewhere along the way she had grabbed her backup Sig Sauer. After they cleared the apartment, she returned the Sig to its hiding place in the cubby on the living room desk and said, “Hey, nice entry.”
“Thanks.” And then he gave her an impish grin. “If you like, I can demonstrate a few variations.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, teach me, Rook. Teach me all the ways.”
* * *