"Uh-huh. Snow was pretty bad last night?"
She nodded and tapped her knee again. "Awful. He been up there all morning. The roofs is shot."
Fink put away the notebook. As he turned to leave he jerked his head at a framed photograph of a man in World War I uniform.
"That Dugan?"
"Yes," she said. "He lost his eye at Shatto Theory."
"Tough," Fink murmured and departed.
Outside in the hall the odor was sickening.
"Smell that?" Fink said. "It's why the Health Department got those complaints."
"Aren't you going to check the butcher?"
"Is the old lady still in the apartment?"