Obsession in Death(34)

The kitchen consisted of a cup-sized sink, a mini AutoChef, and a counter about as big as a desk blotter. But it was clean.

Misty herself sat on the floral throw, legs curled up, holding a chipped mug in two hands. She wore her sky-blue hair in a sharp wedge, shivered under an oversized sweater draped over narrow shoulders.

Though her face enhancements were badly smeared, pretty peeked out under them. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but from the look of her Eve deduced tears rather than the funk.

“Ms. Polinsky, I’m Lieutenant Dallas. This is Detective Peabody, and our consultant. How are you holding up?”

“I feel a little sick. Officer Morales said to drink some tea, but I still feel a little sick. I never saw anything like that. I never saw anything like Ledo in there.”

Tears swam – shock not grief in Eve’s estimation, so she sat on the arm of the sofa. “It’s hard seeing something like that. How well did you know Ledo?”

“Not really. I mean to see – and I talked to him a few times. You know how you do.”

“Have you ever been in his place?”

“No. He… he asked me over, but, well, you know.” She drew in her shoulders. “I didn’t want to.”

“Did you ever buy anything from him?”

“I don’t do that.” Big eyes as blue as her hair went huge. “I swear to God. You can test me and everything. I don’t do illegals.”

“Okay.” Eve scrolled through her PPC as she spoke, doing a quick run on her witness. “How old are you, Misty?”

“Twenty-two.”

“How old are you on Planet Earth?”

The hands holding the mug trembled. “I’m not going back. You can’t make me go back. I got ID that says I’m twenty-one.”

“Go back where?”

“Look, I was just going to work. I work the early shift at the coffee shop around the corner three days a week. Del’s, it’s called, but I never met anybody named Del in there. I had to call in, tell them I’d be late, and now Pete’s mad.”

“And you work at Swing It four nights a week.”

Misty’s face went pink under the blue hair. “I just dance, okay? I don’t do the other stuff. I just dance.”

“How long have you been in New York?”

“Six months. Almost. I was just going to work, Officer.”

“Lieutenant.”

“Okay. I was just going to work, and the door over there was open. I shouldn’t’ve looked in, but it was open, and it’s not a good neighborhood, so I looked in just to make sure Ledo didn’t get robbed or something. And I saw him, on his bed. The blood.”

“Did you go in?”

“Uh-uh.” She shook her head vigorously. “I ran back in here, locked the door. I didn’t know what to do, thought I was going to boot. I was going to run out again, go to work, pretend I hadn’t seen anything. But… It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right, so I called the police.”

Though it remained pink, her face went rigid with anger. “I shouldn’t be in trouble for calling the police. For doing the right thing.”

“And you’re not. Did you see anybody, hear anything, before you looked in Ledo’s?”

“No. I told Officer Morales how I got up at five-forty, like I do when I’m working at the coffee shop. I took a shower. The water doesn’t get really hot, and it’s really, really noisy. I got ready for work. I have to work a shift at the club tonight, so I packed a change for that, and I got a GoBar and tube of cola, ’cause I don’t like coffee. Then I got my coat and stuff, and went out – it was about quarter after six. And I looked in because the door was wide open.”

“Have you seen anyone come around here you didn’t recognize?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes people sleep on the floor downstairs. I don’t know them, but they don’t bother anybody. And it’s been really cold. And the bug person came once.”

“Bug person?”

“To kill bugs. I guess the super ordered it, but when I asked if I could get somebody in here to do it on my place, the super just laughed at me. Guy’s a dick anyway.”

“Can you describe this person? The exterminator. Male, female, build, race, age?”

“God, I don’t know.” She drank a little more tea, blew upward and stirred her fringe of blue bangs. “I guess I thought it was a guy, but I don’t really know. He had on this hood and mask, and had this tank and sprayer. I just peeked out a minute.”

“Did you talk to the bug person?”

“I just asked through the crack of the door if he was doing the whole building. And he sort of nodded. I thought, good, ’cause the cockroaches creep me. I straightened up some, you know how you do when maybe somebody’s coming in your place, but when I looked out again, he was gone.”

She smiled wanly. “Cockroaches are still here.”

“Did you notice any sort of logo, or name?”

“I really didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’d like you to work with a police artist.”

The pink flush had faded away, and now she gnawed off what was left of her lip dye. “I didn’t really see anything.”

“You never know. We can have you taken down to Central, and the artist might help you remember some details you don’t realize you noticed.”