His hands were still up, his face colorless and static. It took him a long moment to answer, but he finally said, "Yes. Yes, I understand."
"Good." I pocketed the gun. "I'll bid you good night, then. Enjoy your stew."
I went over to Naomi Hecht's place, but she didn't answer her door. Maybe she was working. But no, I'd forgotten: Naomi Hecht was currently unemployed. That left her husband. She must have been with him.
In Studio Cinema, I watched Bette Davis and Robert Montgomery in June Bride but couldn't keep track of the plot. My mind kept bouncing about, flashing pictures that overrode those on the screen. Arye Harpaz with blood on his face. Naomi Hecht crying and then ordering me out of her apartment. The photos of Dr. Shapira dead in the street. Leitner with his hands up as he saw death in my eyes.
Mostly I thought about Leitner. The evil bastard was right. He had the upper hand. I couldn't touch him, and I didn't think Gafni could either. Not while Leitner had those pictures. And I couldn't make him give them to me. My threat at the end of our meeting was as hollow as Leitner's conscience. My only hope, and it was as flimsy as old paper, was that I'd put enough fear into him that he'd fold. Maybe I had looked crazy enough. I'd have my answer the next day at noon.
After the movie, I had a small dinner, then wandered about until midnight before heading back to Amos Street for the night.
It had rained while I was in the cinema, and the pavement glistened, reflecting the moonlight. The wind was faint like a caress, but its fingers were cold, making me shiver. The street was empty and quiet. Shadows clung to walls like murky nets waiting for an unsuspecting prey. The windows around me were dark like the empty eye sockets of a skull.
In the lobby of Moria's building, I removed my shoes as I'd done on the previous two nights, then began the ascent to Moria's apartment. The building was silent around me, the coldness of the floor penetrating through my socks.
The moon was almost full, the sky clear of clouds, so just like the previous night, light splashed onto the second-floor landing through the aperture in the outside wall. Just as I was passing through it toward the next staircase, a faint creak came from behind me, followed by a single hushed utterance: "Psst."
I froze, my heart leaping to my throat, then turned to look behind me.
Standing in her quarter-opened doorway, just her face and the left side of her body visible, was Lillian Shukrun. She motioned me toward her with urgent movements of her hand.
It took me a second to respond, so shocked was I at being spotted. I had been so careful. I hadn't made a sound. How on earth did she know I was there?
As I approached, she opened the door wider to let me inside her apartment, then closed it silently the second I was in. The interior was dim, illuminated by moonlight and the faint glow of a streetlamp a little further up the street. The stove wasn't burning, so it was cold. The room smelled of milk, detergent, and the faint tang of urine-filled diapers. As on my previous visit, washed diapers hung on a line in the living room, alongside various articles of clothing. Lillian was in a misshapen gray robe, and her hair was in disarray. She pressed a finger to her lips, then held up a stopping hand while she peered out of her peephole at the landing I'd just vacated.
Turning, she whispered: "The baby is asleep. We need to keep quiet."
"Where's your husband?" I asked, matching her volume, wondering what was going on and starting to get a bit worried too. Lillian looked distraught, perhaps even scared.
"He's working tonight. He won't be back until morning. I hate being alone at night, I just hate it, but he has to work." Her eyes jerked about, going to the closed door, then up to the ceiling, then back to me. Her brow creased. "Why are you holding your shoes?"
I glanced down at the shoes clasped in my hand and blurted the first thing that came to mind, "I stepped in a puddle, and water got in them. I don't like walking around in wet shoes."
She nodded, too agitated to give my answer much consideration or she probably would have seen through my lie. "Were you going to Moria's apartment?"
"Yes." Then, feeling that the hour demanded an explanation, I added, "I know it's late, but something came up in the investigation that I had to check right away."
Again she nodded. Her eyes went to the ceiling again and stayed there. "It's a good thing I was awake, then."
"Why is that?"
"Because someone's up there."
"What?"
"Someone's in Moria's apartment. I was nursing the baby, and I heard footsteps."
I gazed up. The ceiling was a grayish plain with patches of shadow and darkness eating away at the corners. There was no sound of movement from above. Nothing at all. I looked at Lillian. She was worn out. The baby must have been keeping her up at all hours. Could she have imagined it? Mistaken one sound for another? Maybe it was something carried over from a dream that the baby had interrupted. "Are you sure?" I asked.
"Absolutely." She grabbed my arm tightly. "I heard it as plainly as I hear you now."
Her certainty was compelling. My scalp began tingling. I'd been foolish to return here. Moria's apartment was no longer safe since there were people who knew I had slept there. Ruslander was one; Dr. Leitner another. "When did you hear the footsteps?"
"At first, about a half hour ago, after I finally got the baby calmed down and was putting her in her crib. They continued for a short while and then stopped."
"So maybe whoever was up there has already left."
She shook her head. "They haven't, or I would have heard them and seen them, too. After the footsteps had stopped entirely, I stood by the door, looking out. I wanted to see who it was when they came down so I could tell my husband, and the police if need be. That's how I saw you."
So it wasn't a burglar. Because a burglar would have made more noise searching Moria's apartment. They wouldn't have sat still in the dark.
I felt like giving Lillian a big hug and a wet kiss on both cheeks. I also had half a mind to wake up the neighbor who'd maligned Lillian for her nosiness and tell her she should not think ill of her watchful neighbor. I didn't know who was up in Moria's apartment, but I was dead sure they meant me serious harm. Lillian's keen senses and watchful nature had saved me from walking into an ambush.
Could it be Leitner himself? It was possible, but he didn't seem the sort who would dirty his hands with blood. But maybe he had hired someone and told him to expect me here after midnight, the time I'd crept into Moria's apartment on both previous nights.
Or maybe it was Kulaski, though I didn't see how he'd know of my stay here.
"Is there just one person up there or more?" I asked. "Could you tell?"
"Just one, I think," Lillian said. "Judging by the footsteps, I'm pretty sure."
That was good news. But not good enough to get me to go up there, where someone might have a gun trained on the door, ready to shoot me once I stepped inside. Still, facing a single opponent was better than having to deal with a bunch of them.
But that was something for later. For now, I had to be patient and cautious. I needed to know who was up there before I decided what further steps to take.
"Thank you, Lillian," I said. "I'll take care of this. You should head back to bed now."
"I don't think I could sleep while he's up there," she said, hugging herself.
