director is just a son of a bitch.”
Seth leaned back and grinned at her. “Still, it was a pretty good movie, wasn’t it?”
Hannah nodded. “Actually, I’m a big fan of Otto Preminger’s movies.” She pushed her food tray aside and glanced at her wristwatch. “Anyway, do you think there’s time before class to give me that address?”
“Yeah, come on,” he said, getting to his feet. He grabbed his tray. “Just don’t tell Paul that I gave you Marlboro Man’s address, or he’ll have my ass in a sling.”
Hannah bused her tray after him. “So Paul really has it out for Ben Sturges, huh?”
“Oh, he’d hate any man who got close to you. Hell, he’d put a contract out on me if he knew I was sitting with you just now. Why do you think I picked that corner table? So do me a favor and don’t let on to the Prof that we broke bread together.”
Hannah frowned at him. “Paul really isn’t that bad, is he?”
As they strolled out of the cafeteria together, Seth seemed to ponder her question. He tapped his rolled-up magazine against his leg, and smiled cryptically. “Hmmm, just don’t tell Paul about us talking together today, okay? I don’t want to get into trouble with him.” He pointed to a stairwell entrance. “Why don’t you wait for me over there? I’ll be back in a couple of shakes with that address.”
Hannah retreated toward the stairwell. She watched Seth amble down the crowded hallway, and she realized he truly didn’t want to be seen with her. He was dead serious about Paul.
The Prof has a thing for you, Seth had said. In fact, he’s really kind of obsessed.
Hannah stepped back, ducking into the stairwell. She suddenly had a feeling someone was watching.
She got off the bus on Yakima Way, then glanced again at the address Seth had scribbled down for her. He’d said it was a dicey neighborhood, and he wasn’t kidding. She’d ridden the El through worse areas of Chicago. Still, it was hardly the place to be alone on foot at nine o’clock at night.
She’d gotten Joyce to stay later with Guy, and taken the bus from work. On the bus, she’d tried to ignore the foulmouthed ranting of a crazy man in the back. She wondered if this attempt to investigate Ben Sturges wasn’t a little misguided. Paul Gulletti, with his movie knowledge and his obsession for her, seemed a far more likely suspect. Hannah had to wonder if she’d get mugged tonight, investigating the wrong man.
As the bus pulled away, she felt as if her last chance for safety had just driven off. The lone corner store at the end of the block provided no refuge. Four teenagers, who looked like gang members, loitered by the entrance of the run-down establishment. One of them was tormenting a derelict who had passed out against the side of the store. A pawnshop was located across the street from the grocery, but it looked closed.
Hannah started down the block of dilapidated houses and boarded-up buildings until she found the address for Ben Sturges. The apartment building looked like a big, neglected house and had bad aluminum siding that might have been painted yellow at one time—but now Hannah couldn’t tell. The front door had a faded, handwritten “No Trespassing” sign. On the second floor, two windows had stained sheets hanging up in lieu of curtains. Hannah checked the mailbox for Apartment 1, and saw a new label on it: B. Podowski.
Frowning, Hannah checked the address and apartment number that Seth had written down. She opened the front door and stepped inside. The dark foyer smelled of cat urine, and there was a stairway with a tattered, thin carpet. On either side of Hannah were Apartments 1 and 2.
The front door opened, and Hannah backed away. A husky young black man ambled in. He wore a sleeveless sweatshirt. He scowled at her, but said nothing. He pulled out a set of keys and started to unlock the door to Apartment 2.
“Hi, excuse me,” Hannah said.
He turned to glare at her. “Yeah?”
“Does a
Seth leaned back and grinned at her. “Still, it was a pretty good movie, wasn’t it?”
Hannah nodded. “Actually, I’m a big fan of Otto Preminger’s movies.” She pushed her food tray aside and glanced at her wristwatch. “Anyway, do you think there’s time before class to give me that address?”
“Yeah, come on,” he said, getting to his feet. He grabbed his tray. “Just don’t tell Paul that I gave you Marlboro Man’s address, or he’ll have my ass in a sling.”
Hannah bused her tray after him. “So Paul really has it out for Ben Sturges, huh?”
“Oh, he’d hate any man who got close to you. Hell, he’d put a contract out on me if he knew I was sitting with you just now. Why do you think I picked that corner table? So do me a favor and don’t let on to the Prof that we broke bread together.”
Hannah frowned at him. “Paul really isn’t that bad, is he?”
As they strolled out of the cafeteria together, Seth seemed to ponder her question. He tapped his rolled-up magazine against his leg, and smiled cryptically. “Hmmm, just don’t tell Paul about us talking together today, okay? I don’t want to get into trouble with him.” He pointed to a stairwell entrance. “Why don’t you wait for me over there? I’ll be back in a couple of shakes with that address.”
Hannah retreated toward the stairwell. She watched Seth amble down the crowded hallway, and she realized he truly didn’t want to be seen with her. He was dead serious about Paul.
The Prof has a thing for you, Seth had said. In fact, he’s really kind of obsessed.
Hannah stepped back, ducking into the stairwell. She suddenly had a feeling someone was watching.
She got off the bus on Yakima Way, then glanced again at the address Seth had scribbled down for her. He’d said it was a dicey neighborhood, and he wasn’t kidding. She’d ridden the El through worse areas of Chicago. Still, it was hardly the place to be alone on foot at nine o’clock at night.
She’d gotten Joyce to stay later with Guy, and taken the bus from work. On the bus, she’d tried to ignore the foulmouthed ranting of a crazy man in the back. She wondered if this attempt to investigate Ben Sturges wasn’t a little misguided. Paul Gulletti, with his movie knowledge and his obsession for her, seemed a far more likely suspect. Hannah had to wonder if she’d get mugged tonight, investigating the wrong man.
As the bus pulled away, she felt as if her last chance for safety had just driven off. The lone corner store at the end of the block provided no refuge. Four teenagers, who looked like gang members, loitered by the entrance of the run-down establishment. One of them was tormenting a derelict who had passed out against the side of the store. A pawnshop was located across the street from the grocery, but it looked closed.
Hannah started down the block of dilapidated houses and boarded-up buildings until she found the address for Ben Sturges. The apartment building looked like a big, neglected house and had bad aluminum siding that might have been painted yellow at one time—but now Hannah couldn’t tell. The front door had a faded, handwritten “No Trespassing” sign. On the second floor, two windows had stained sheets hanging up in lieu of curtains. Hannah checked the mailbox for Apartment 1, and saw a new label on it: B. Podowski.
Frowning, Hannah checked the address and apartment number that Seth had written down. She opened the front door and stepped inside. The dark foyer smelled of cat urine, and there was a stairway with a tattered, thin carpet. On either side of Hannah were Apartments 1 and 2.
The front door opened, and Hannah backed away. A husky young black man ambled in. He wore a sleeveless sweatshirt. He scowled at her, but said nothing. He pulled out a set of keys and started to unlock the door to Apartment 2.
“Hi, excuse me,” Hannah said.
He turned to glare at her. “Yeah?”
“Does a
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