“Would you if one had been fired?”
“I don’t think so, not the way it was muffled by the pillow.”
“What did you do?”
“I crossed the street. I tried to look up to the window of my apartment. I couldn’t see anything. The shade was drawn.”
“Then what?”
“I started walking back toward town.”
“At what time?”
“It must have been just before two-thirty. When I had reached the corner, Marilyn Winton drove by. She was in a car with two other people — a man and a woman.”
“You know her?”
“Oh, I know who she is, and we speak when we meet in the hall. Her apartment is almost directly across from mine.”