Blood Innocents by Thomas H. Cook

there was a double murder in this building last night?”
    â€œI figured something like that. Place was blue as a strangled nun with all you cops this morning.”
    Reardon shook his head to dissolve the repellent image. “The victims were the two women who live upstairs. Lee McDonald and Karen Ortovsky. Did you know them?”
    â€œJust to say hi in the hall.”
    â€œWhen did you see them last?”
    â€œThis morning, about three A.M. That was funny, too,” Mrs. Malloy added. “They usually kept regular hours.” She smiled. “They was lezzies, you know.”
    â€œThe two women?”
    â€œYep.” Mrs. Malloy looked at Reardon suggestively. “I’m a man’s woman, myself.”
    â€œDid you stay home the rest of the night?”
    â€œNaw, I went right back out again. Like I said, I’m a man’s woman. I met this guy in the bar, Donahue’s down the street, and we got to talking and he invited me over to his house, you know? So I told him okay, but I needed to get some things from my place. So he wanted to come with me, but I says, ‘Hell, no,’ I says, ‘I live in a high-class building, so I have to keep a low profile,’ you know?”
    Reardon nodded.
    â€œThese assholes in this building will complain about anything, so you have to watch yourself. I been a widow for longer than I can remember. No children. I can have my fun, but I keep it private.”
    â€œWhen you saw them this morning, were they alone?”
    â€œNo, they had somebody with them.”
    â€œCan you describe that person?”
    â€œKind of tall. About six feet, I guess. But if she was a he, then he was kind of average size, I guess.” She hesitated. “You see, they all had their backs to me. The other one was walking in between Karen and Lee, and they were all wearing jeans and shirts and that person had long black hair. So I couldn’t tell if it was male or female.”
    Reardon stared down at his pen as it scratched across his notebook.
    â€œYou’ve got a sensitive look,” Mrs. Malloy said.
    Reardon did not look up.
    â€œSensitive eyes. Sensitive hands and face. What else is sensitive?”
    Reardon looked up. He repeated his previous question. “Did you know either Miss McDonald or Miss Ortovsky very well?”
    â€œNot very. They was lezzies, and I’m not. I stay the hell away from that sort.”
    â€œHow did you know that?” Reardon asked.
    Mrs. Malloy laughed. “I could hear them going at each other at night. Moaning and groaning, you know. Sometimes I’d see them bring a man up to their rooms. But that didn’t mean nothing. In just a little while I could hear them going at each other again.” She laughed. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t give a damn. Kicks is kicks, but I get my kicks from a man.”
    Reardon stood up. “I guess that’s it for now.”
    Mrs. Malloy walked him to the door and opened it. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said softly, “I’m sorry about those girls.”
    â€œI know,” Reardon replied.
    â€œI hope I didn’t embarrass you. I sometimes embarrass people.” She paused a moment, glanced down at her feet, then up to Reardon’s face. “I sometimes embarrass myself,” she added wearily.
    Reardon put out his hand and Mrs. Malloy took it in hers.
    â€œThank you for coming forward, Mrs. Malloy.”
    She smiled faintly, sadly, “It’s my duty, right?”
    â€œYeah, it is,” Reardon said.
    Reardon spent the rest of the day in the Buildings Department. He hoped that Petrakis’ former landlord might know where he had moved, but the apartment house from which he had been evicted was owned by the Upward Real Estate Company, which was, in turn, owned by the Amalgamated Owners Cooperative. Methodically Reardon pursued this corporation, only to discover that it was held by yet another: the East