Lawrence Block - The Burglar In The Closet

When they drove off I stayed right where I was for five full minutes in case they were going to be cute and circle the block. When this didn’t happen I considered calling from the booth on the corner to make sure the coast was clear. I didn’t feel like bothering. I buzzed Jillian from the vestibule.

All the distortion of the intercom couldn’t hide the anxiety in her voice. She said, “Yes? Who is it?”

“Bernie.”

“Oh. I don’t-”

“Are you alone, Jillian?”

“The police were just here.”

“I know. I waited until they left.”

“They say you killed Crystal. They say you’re dangerous. You never went to the boxing matches. You were in her apartment, you killed her-”

All this over the intercom, yet. “Can I come up, Jillian?”

“I don’t know.”

I’ll pick the fucking lock, I thought, and I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll kick your door in. But I said, “I’ve made a lot of progress tonight, Jillian. I know who killed her. Let me up and I’ll explain the whole business.”

She didn’t say anything, and for a moment I wondered if she’d heard me. Perhaps she had closed the intercom switch. Perhaps at this very moment she was dialing 911, and in a scant hour the swift and efficient New York police would arrive with drawn guns. Perhaps-

The buzzer buzzed and I opened the door.

She wore a wool skirt, a plaid of muted greens and blues, and a navy sweater. Her tights were also navy, and on her little feet she wore deerskin slippers with pointed toes that suited her elfin quality. She poured me a cup of coffee and apologized for giving me a hard time over the intercom.

“I’m a nervous wreck,” she said. “I’ve had a parade of visitors tonight.”

“The cops?”

“They came at the very end. Well, you know that, you saw them leave. First there was another policeman. He told me his name-”

“Ray Kirschmann?”

“That’s right. He said he wanted me to give you a message. I said I wouldn’t be hearing from you but he gave me a very knowing wink. I wouldn’t be surprised if I blushed. It was that kind of a wink.”

“He’s that kind of a cop. What was the message?”

“You’re supposed to get in touch with him. He said you’ve really got the guts of a burglar and you proved it going back to the scene of the crime. He said something about he’s sure you got what you went there for and he’ll want to be on hand to check it out. When I told him I didn’t really understand he said you would understand, and that the main thing was that you should get in touch with him.”

“‘Back to the scene of the crime.’ What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think I know from something the other cops said. And other things. After Kirschmann left Craig came over.”

“I thought you told him not to.”

“I did, but he came anyway and it was easier to let him come up than make a fuss. I told him he couldn’t stay.”

“What did he want?”

She made a face. “He was horrid. He really thinks you killed Crystal. He said the police were sure of it and he blames himself for setting it up for you to steal the jewels. That was what he really wanted to tell me-to deny that you had any arrangement with him. He said you’d probably blab if the police arrested you and that it would be his word against yours and naturally they’d take the word of a respectable dentist over that of a convicted burglar-”

“Naturally.”

“-but that I would have to swear that your story was a lot of nonsense or he might be in trouble. I said I didn’t believe you would kill anybody and he got very mad and accused me of siding with you against him, and I got nasty myself, and I don’t know what I ever saw in him, I swear I don’t.”

“He’s got nice teeth.”

“Then when he left, I was just getting interested in television when his lawyer came over.”

“Verrill?”

“Uh-huh. I think he came over mainly to back up Craig. Craig told him about the arrangement with you and naturally he wouldn’t want that to come out, and he tried to let me know how important it was to keep it a secret. I think he was building up to offer me a bribe but he didn’t come right out and say it.”

“Interesting.”

“He was really pretty slick, but in a very Establishment way. As if the kind of bribe I could expect wouldn’t be an envelope full of cash but some sort of tax-free trust fund. Not really, but he had that kind of attitude. He said there was no question you murdered Crystal. He said the police had evidence.”

“What kind of evidence?”

“He didn’t say.” She looked away, swallowed. “You didn’t kill her, did you, Bernie?”

“Of course not.”

“But you’d say that anyway, wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know what I’d say if I killed her. I’ve never killed anybody so the question’s never come up. Jillian, why on earth would I kill the woman? If she came in and caught me in the act, all I’d want to do would be to get away before the police came. Maybe I’d give her a shove to get out of there, if I had to-”

“Is that what happened?”

“No, because she didn’t catch me. But if she did, and if I did shove her, and if she took a bad fall, well, I can see how a person could get hurt that way. It’s never happened yet but I suppose it’s possible. What’s not possible is that I’d stab her in the heart with a dental scalpel I wouldn’t have with me in the first place.”

“That’s what I told myself.”

“Well, you were right.”

Her eyes widened, her lower lip trembled. She gnawed prettily at it. “Those two policemen got here about three-quarters of an hour after Mr. Verrill left. They said you broke into Crystal’s apartment again last night. There were police seals on it and it was broken into. They say you did it.”

“Somebody hit Crystal’s place again?” I frowned, trying to figure it. “Why would I do that?”

“They said you must have left something behind. Or you wanted to destroy evidence.”

That was what Kirschmann had been talking about. He thought I’d make a second trip for the jewels. “Anyway,” I said, “I was here last night.”

“You could have stopped on the way here.”

“I couldn’t have stopped anywhere last night. I couldn’t see straight, if you’ll remember.”

She avoided my eyes. “And the night before that,” she said. “They say they have a witness who spotted you leaving Crystal’s building right around the time she was killed. And they have another woman who says she actually spoke to you in Gramercy Park earlier that night.”

“Shit. Henrietta Tyler.”

“What?”

“A sweet little old lady who hates dogs and strangers. I’m surprised she remembered me. And that she talked to the law. I figured no one who hates dogs and strangers can be all bad. What’s the matter?”

“Then you were there!”

“I didn’t kill anybody, Jillian. Burglary was the only felony I committed that night, and I was busy committing it while somebody else killed Crystal.”

“You were-”

“On the premises. In the apartment.”

“Then you saw-”

“I saw the closet door from the inside, that’s what I saw.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t blame you. I didn’t see who killed her but I had a busy night tonight and now I know who killed her. It all fits, even the second break-in.” I leaned forward. “Do you suppose you could put up a fresh pot of coffee? Because it’s a long story.”

She listened with appropriately wide eyes while I recreated the circumstances of the burglary and the murder. When I moved along to the story of my visit to Knobby Corcoran’s humble digs, she stared in awe and admiration. I may have improved on reality a bit, come to think of it. I may have made the drop from one rooftop to the other greater than it actually was, and I may have added a gap of a few yards between the buildings. Poetic license, you understand.