He swallowed his Adam’s apple twice. The second time I didn’t think it would come to the surface again, but eventually it did—but only just.
“What’s up?” he said, blinking. “What’s the matter with Apartment 246?”
“I’m asking you. Front door’s open; no one’s there. That’s where you come in, pally. You should know when a front door’s been left open.”
“She’s up there,” he said owlishly. “She’s always up there at this time.”
“Only this time she’s not. Come on, pally, you and me are going up there to take a look around.”
He went with me as meek as a lamb. As we rode in the elevator, he said feebly, “She’s always been a nice girl. What do the police want with her?”
“Did I say the police want anything with her?” I asked, and scowled at him. “All I want to know is why the front door’s open when she isn’t there.”
“Maybe she went out and forgot to shut it,” he said after turning the matter over in his mind. I could see he was pleased with this idea.
“Now you’re getting cute,” I said as the elevator came to a creaking standstill. I was glad to get out of it. It didn’t seem strong enough to haul one, let alone two people. “Did you see her go out?”
He said he hadn’t seen her go out.