“No. So you didn’t see her last night ?”
May shook her head, gulped down the gin, thumped herself on her chest and coughed.
“That’s better. No, I didn’t see her.” Donovan lit a cigarette.
“This killer may come back,” he said, leaning forward to stare at May. “He may visit you. If you know anything, you’d better spill it.”
“But I don’t know anything.”
“Didn’t you see anyone? This would be between one and two o’clock.”
May stared up at the ceiling. The fumes of the gin made her feel dizzy.
“I got back around two,” she said. “I did meet a guy in the hall, but he could have come from any of the apartments.”
Donovan edged forward in his chair.
“Never mind where he came from. What was he like?”