Kyra Davis - Lust, Loathing And A Little Lip Gloss

“Do you think he’s still in there?” I asked.

“Who’s still in there?” screeched the old lady from the stairwell. “Was somebody robbed? We all didn’t haul ourselves out of bed for nothing, we want to know what’s going on!”

“Should we go in and check it out?” I asked. I was praying that the answer was no. I liked investigating crimes, but I didn’t like confronting murderers. It had been my experience that they weren’t very friendly people.

“That depends,” Anatoly said. “Has anyone called the police?”

“I have.” I turned to see a tall, heavyset man with small wire-rimmed glasses push his way past the other people. With effort, he managed to sit on the ground by Maria’s side. “Maria, they should be here soon. Are you all right?”

“Toby?” she croaked.

He let out a gentle laugh. “You lived here for years and never remembered my name. Now you’ve been out of the building for two months and it rolls off your tongue.”

“Can anyone tell me if there’s any other way out of this condo other than this door?” Anatoly called out.

“Just the door,” bathrobe man confirmed.

“Good, and I can see the fire escape from that window so no one can get on it without my noticing.” Anatoly pointed to the window at the other end of the hall. “If the killer’s in there he’s trapped. We’ll wait for the authorities to arrive. They’ll handle it.”

The word killer was echoed in a series of whispers throughout the stairwell.

“They murdered Enrico,” Maria whimpered. She was still in the fetal position and Toby was rubbing her back. “Someone…someone took my beloved amore from me!”

“So that’s it then?” Toby asked, looking up at us, “Enrico’s really dead?”

Anatoly nodded just as we heard the sounds of sirens in the distance. I silently prayed that the murderer was still around, hiding in the dark corners of Enrico’s condo. As creepy as it was to think that someone so violent could be so close, I was also aware of how all this was going to look to the police if they didn’t immediately catch the killer. If the fact that I had discovered two dead bodies in a short period of time bothered me, it was sure to bother the police even more.

“You fucking bitch.”

I jumped and then peered into Enrico’s apartment from where the voice came…not a human voice, but the voice of that seemingly mild-mannered bird now perched on top of the sofa. He stared at me with his sharp avian eyes and repeated, “You fucking bitch.”

The bird went out of focus as did everything else. For a moment all I could see was blurred colors and the vague forms of the things and people around me as I was transported back hours earlier to that phone call. “Anatoly,” I finally managed. “I heard it.”

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