I tagged along behind. There was nothing else to do.
We’d taken half a dozen steps when suddenly Bertha Cool stopped and sniffed. She turned and looked at me.
“What is it?” I asked, and then I caught it, just a faint whiff of gas.
I ran back to the apartment door and dropped to my hands and knees, put my cheek against the carpet, and tried to look under the door. I couldn’t see a thing, just a black strip beneath the jamb of the door. I took a long-bladed knife from my pocket, opened the blade, and inserted it in the crack. It struck some obstacle.
I jumped up, dusted off the knees of my trousers with the palms of my hands, and said, “Come on, Bertha. Let’s go”
We went to the elevator and down to the lobby. I walked up to the clerk and said, “I’m afraid something’s wrong with my Aunt Amelia. She told me to come back at this time, that she’d be here waiting. I went up and pounded on the door and couldn’t get any answer.”
The clerk was very affable. “She s probably gone out.” he said. “She’ll be back in a little white. Would you like to wait in the lobby?”
I said, “She was expecting me. She said, she’d be there.” Frieda Tarbing said, “I’m quite sure she hasn’t gone out.”
“Give her a ring,” the clerk said.
Frieda Tarbing flashed me a quick glance, then plugged in a line, and worked a key back and forth. After a few minutes, she said, “She doesn’t answer.”