“No.”
“And you didn’t hear him mention whether Philip was coming?”
“No.”
“If there’s anything I can do, I hope you’ll let me know. Good night.”
“Thank you, I will. Good night.”
It was four-thirty when I climbed the steps to Helen Framley’s apartment and rang the bell. I rang a couple of times, then tried the apartment next door. A woman pushed her head out so quickly that I knew she’d been standing at her door listening. Evidently, she could hear Helen Framley’s bell over in her apartment.
“I beg your pardon,” I said. “I’m looking for Helen Framley.”
“She lives in that apartment next door.”
“I know, but she doesn’t seem to be home.”
“No. She wouldn’t be.”