I remained kneeling beside her. I leaned close and listened to her stertorous breathing. She made a sound in her throat, a cross between a moan and a mewing. I patted her free hand, murmuring nonsense I hoped she would hear and find comforting. I would have turned her over on her back, but I was afraid of moving her.
I picked up the scent of something scorched and I looked up. Smoke poured from the wall oven, threatening to trigger the smoke alarm. I moved swiftly into the kitchen, turned off the oven, and activated the vent fan above the stovetop. A half-sheet pan in the lighted interior bore blackened canapés that were impossible to identify. I found a hot pad and removed the sheet pan to the granite counter. Then I unlocked and opened the glass-paned door to the balcony to let in fresh air. On the counter, there was a cutting board with radishes, carrots, baby turnips, and celery hearts ready to be trimmed. A bottle of Chardonnay sat in a wine cooler. She’d taken out wineglasses that she’d washed and left upside down in the dish drainer. There was something painful about the sight of these homey activities undertaken with such innocence.
Erroll finished his conversation with the 9-1-1 dispatcher and returned to my side.
“I don’t know what she was baking, but it’s a charred mess now,” I said.
“Cheddar cheese crackers. She makes them all the time for company. The guy must have rung the bell shortly after she put ’em in the oven. Usually takes twenty minutes.”
“Which means he barely made it out of here before we showed up. How did he get away?”
“He must have gone down the back stairs.”
“Which go where?”
“Two-car garage. He could have let himself out and headed for a side street.”
I let my gaze travel up the stairs to the second floor. “What if he’s still on the premises?”
“Wait here.”
He approached the stairs in giant strides and took the steps two at a time. At the third-floor landing, he looked in both directions and then moved to his left. To me, the place had an empty feel, but I didn’t think we should make assumptions. I followed Erroll’s progress by way of the series of thumps on the ceiling as he moved from room to room, opening and closing doors. When he finally came downstairs again, he carried a quilt. “He trashed the place, but otherwise no sign of him.”
He shook out the quilt and laid it over Phyllis, saying, “Hold on, baby. We’re going to get you some help here real quick.”
Erroll appeared at my side. “I alerted the gate guard and he’ll direct the cops and the ambulance, but I should be out front to flag them down. You okay here alone?”
“I’m fine.”
He squeezed my shoulder and departed, leaving the apartment door open. I heard the elevator doors close and then it was quiet. I picked up the sound of a grandfather clock. I looked behind me and spotted it on the far wall. The wood was a beautifully burnished mahogany. The round clock face was topped by a moon dial, both trimmed in brass and chrome. There were three cylindrical brass weights and a flat brass pendulum as big around as a dinner plate. There was something comforting in the hollow click of the mechanism as the pendulum swung back and forth.
I focused on surroundings I’d expected to see under far different circumstances. The living room was a big open space, with a formal dining room off to the left. A white marble-topped counter separated the living room from the kitchen, which had a row of windows along the back wall. On the balcony, I saw patio furniture that had been arranged with a view to the ocean, currently beyond my visual range. She’d chosen atypical wall colors, a mauve and eucalyptus green, with slate-blue drapes and wall-to-wall carpeting. In theory, this was more interesting than the usual white walls, but the dark-toned carpeting and heavy drapes had affected the nature of the light coming in. Instead of eye-pleasing, the hues came across as gloomy. She’d introduced a number of oversize palms with wide, thick leaves that dominated the space. Floor-length cloths on the tables made the room feel stuffy. She didn’t seem to favor empty wall space or bare surfaces. Two mirrored walls, instead of creating an illusion of more space, simply doubled, in reflection, the already crowded feel of the rooms.
I looked down at her. She’d mentioned being overweight when she’d met Ned, so her petite size was unexpected, as was the dark auburn hair she wore in a French twist that had come undone in the battle she’d waged. I was convinced he’d done this, though I had no proof. I’d have been willing to bet he’d timed his attack with an eye to my arrival, but how he’d managed to track her down and how he could have known the day and time of our get-together was a mystery. I don’t believe in coincidence. Somehow my phone conversation with her had resulted in an information leak. I’d spoken to her two days earlier, which was when we’d agreed to meet. Since then, I hadn’t discussed the drinks date with anyone, so I assumed she’d mentioned it.
Her theory was that Ned was on the hunt for the treasure trove of souvenirs he’d removed from his young female victims. If he harbored the notion that she had the trinkets in her possession, he might have tried reaching her at her old address and discovered that she’d moved. He could have traced her to her current location through utility connections in her name or by way of a former neighbor, who might have passed along her new address with the best of intentions. Erroll had made the final hurdle easy for him by sending the elevator down when he should have checked with Phyllis first.
The burglar chain had been snapped off the front door, suggesting Ned had caught her off guard, kicking hard enough to splinter the hollow-core wood door. On the wall to the left of the door, a table had been toppled and an ornamental plate had bounced on the thick carpet, where it lay still intact. It looked like she’d made it as far as the stairs before he’d grabbed her from behind and hauled her backward. I could see the tracks her heels had left where he’d dragged her across the floor. At some point, he’d dealt her a blow severe enough to drop her, but there was no sign of a weapon. Had to be a blunt object of some kind. The soundproofing in the units must have been far more effective than I imagined because if Erroll had heard them, he’d have come across the hall to find out what was going on.