Doug Allyn - v108 n03-04_1996-09-10

“I know it’s risky to be seen talking to you,” P.T. said, “but we just remembered this morning seeing that lady walking with someone a coupla times. Some young guy. Don’t know if it means anything, but she was usually by herself unless the lady with the cane was with her.”

“Did it look like he was harassing her?”

“No, they was talking friendly.” P.T. bobbed eagerly.

“How we doing? Is that a good tip?”

“Could be,” Skovich answered cautiously. “What did this guy look like?”

The old men conferred a minute. “Not too tall,” P.T. announced. “Nowhere near as big as you boys. Early twenties prob’ly, light hair. Got a round face, kind of soft-looking. Walked hunched over with his hands in his pockets.” The others nodded affirmation. “Wore some kind of dark jacket, kind of like a letter jacket. Dark blue or gray, I think it was.”

“Okay, thanks,” Skovich said. “We’ll get on it.”

Marsh leaned close to Hacker’s window and bared his gums. “Gonna get my new teeth this afternoon,” he mumbled. “Really appreciate what you done.”

“My pleasure,” Hacker assured him. “But lay off the hard candy now, will you? Try something soft instead.”

Mrs. Halloran seemed pleased to see them. The white cat did not. When Skovich asked her if she’d go through Mrs. Miner’s apartment with them, her eyes clouded.

“Do I have to? I did that with the first officers and it was hard. It’s so empty and cold there without Lorena.”

“You’d be helping us out, Mrs. Halloran. And helping Mrs. Miner, too. She’d want us to find the man who did this.”

“I know she would. Poor Lorena. All right, I’ll go.”

Once inside the empty apartment, she proceeded on tiptoe. “It was always so warm and friendly in here,” she murmured. “Lorena would be over there sewing by the window or we’d have tea. I just can’t bear to think...” Her voice trailed away.

“Anything you can remember, any little thing,” Hacker encouraged her.

They were in the kitchen. The old woman nodded. “I’ll try, but I already told everything I could think of. I don’t know what else—” She stopped.

“Mrs. Halloran?”

She was gazing at the phone on the kitchen wall. A puzzled frown grew. “I just noticed,” she said. “Her keys. See that little hook on the wall beside the phone? Lorena had an extra set of keys hanging there. She got them after she mislaid hers one day and took forever to find them. Said she was getting so absent-minded that she needed another set. Now look — they’re gone. I swear, I didn’t notice that before. Do you think — did one of your men take them?”

“No, ma’am,” Skovich said, his gut beginning a slow dance. “Were they hanging there when you were in here before, the day it happened?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think — no, I don’t believe they were.” Her eyes grew wide and frightened. “Maybe that’s how he got in.”

“Then it would have to be someone who’d been in here before,” Hacker said. “Who could that have been?”

Mrs. Halloran’s hands fluttered. “I don’t know! Lorena was always so careful. Mrs. Robertson and I visited, and that young Mr. Caputo helped her with her groceries a time or two. And the boy from the library was here. Besides that, I—”

“What boy from the library?” Skovich cut in sharply.

She stared up at him. “There was a young man worked at the library. Lorena mentioned he was so nice and friendly. She went there often, you know, loved to read. And she told me he brought books a few times when the weather was too bad for her to go out.” Her voice began to tremble. “She thought it was so considerate.” At the question in the detectives’ eyes, she whispered, “I don’t know a thing about him. I don’t remember if she even mentioned his name.” Her gaze was drawn back to the empty hook on the wall. “But the keys were always there, right in plain sight.”

The librarian was a plain young woman who eyed Hacker with appreciation.

“Of course I know who you mean. Reese Baldwin. He’s a student at the university, worked here part time. Shelved books, helped out wherever we needed him. Reese was really good with the older people. And he did take books to Mrs. Miner sometimes. We’re not supposed to do that, you know, but she was such a regular patron I knew I didn’t have to worry about her returning them.”

“You’re talking about him in the past tense,” Skovich said. “Isn’t he here?”

“As a matter of fact, he quit this week. Said it was too much for him on top of his study load. We’ll miss him; he was a big help.”

“I wonder if we could have his address,” Hacker suggested.

“Is Reese in trouble?”

“We just want to talk to him, ma’am,” he assured her with a smile.

“Please,” she protested, coloring. “I’m not old enough to be called ma’am.”

Armed with the address, they sped for their car, Hacker still wearing his smile.

“You can wipe that off now,” Skovich informed him darkly. “Doesn’t do a damn thing for me.”

No one was home at Baldwin’s apartment. They left a note requesting him to call and went back to the station. Once satisfied that Baldwin had no prior record, Skovich pulled the strings necessary to get a copy of his driver’s license photo and Hacker contacted the university. Reese Baldwin was a registered undergraduate but, according to his class schedule, he was probably not on campus that afternoon.

“What’s your gut saying?” Hacker inquired while they waited for the license photo to come through.

“Saying it’s a good possible. He walked the dog with her. Knew her routine, when she’d be out of the apartment.”

“Yeah. I think we just struck gold. Hope so. Sure would like to get my hands on him.”

“Easy now.”

“I’m a big boy, Hank. I know the rules.”

Late afternoon and Baldwin had not called. The picture came through and they headed for the park bench. Before they could get to the business at hand, however, they had to admire Marsh’s new teeth. Then the old men huddled over Reese Baldwin’s photo and immediately agreed that he was the man they’d seen walking with Lorena Miner.

“Got a face like a cherub,” Sid snarled. “Wouldn’t mind getting a piece of him myself.”

“We helped then, didn’t we?” P.T. was elated. “We’re good snitches?”

Skovich was beginning to feel the adrenalin flow. It made him expansive. “Too early to tell yet, but if this turns out we’ll see that you four get some kind of departmental recognition for it.”

The old men shouldered one another like a gang of boys. “So what do you do now?” Sid’s hot eyes were steaming. “You going after him?”

“We’ll take it from here,” Skovich advised them. “Thanks for all you’ve done. You’ll be hearing from us, okay?”

They parked across the street and a half block away from Reese Baldwin’s apartment. The sky was fast losing light. Skovich was hungry, and they were discussing which one would go for a quick food run when Hacker said, “Look. Someone’s coming out of his building.”

He was walking away from them, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets. “That’s him,” Skovich said. “Let’s go.”

They were across the street and still some lengths behind him when a small group of people rounded the corner beyond Baldwin and started towards him.

Hacker groaned. “God, it’s P.T. and the gang.”

“What?” Skovich said. “How did they find—”

Just then Marsh raised his arm and waved. Baldwin slowed, looked behind him, and saw the detectives. Skovich and Hacker broke into a trot.

“Reese Baldwin?” Skovich called. “Police! Stay where you are. We want to talk to you.”