Bennie asked, “Lou, what did Barbara Mulcahy say? The one who saw through the back window.”
“She confirms what the cop said too, that she was worried about Judy’s safety during the fight. Not that John took a swing or anything, on account of she had an abusive ex. She didn’t hear anything but she saw it. So there’s nothing new there.” Lou took another slug of Coke. “Barbara stopped watching the window after you left, but you know what time you left. She just knows that she looked back at the window and you weren’t there.”
“Did she see John?”
“No.” Lou frowned, his concern folding into the deep lines of his tanned face. “So, that could mean that the killer had already come and gone, unless you can see him on the floor from the window. I don’t know the angle of the window.”
Judy grimaced. “I don’t think you can, but I’m not sure.”
Lou eyed her with sympathy. “Sorry, honey. This can’t be easy for you.”
Mary rubbed Judy’s back. “She’s doing amazing, poor thing.”
Lou took another slug of Coke. “So I talked to eight other neighbors, three on the same side of the street as John and four on the opposite. Hold on a second, I wrote it down. The addresses.” He tugged an old red notebook from his jacket pocket, flipped it open, and read silently to himself.
Bennie looked at him like he was nuts. “Lou, wanna let us in on it?”
“Nah. Waste a time.” Lou flipped the notebook closed. “It was just the details, like house numbers and names. I’ll type it up for you later. Bottom line, none of them saw anything, none of them heard anything. None of them could identify Judy from a picture. One of ’em had hair the same color pink. They’re yuppies, they’re never home, they got a bunch of wacky artsy jobs. I got nothin’ from them.”
Bennie nodded. “What about surveillance cameras? Did you find any other cameras?”
“No.” Lou shook his head, buckling his lower lip. “There’s no camera at the other intersection because there’s no traffic light there, only a stop sign. I stopped in at six restaurants and an art gallery on that three-block strip. No cameras, so far. I’ll draw ya a map later and show you exactly who I talked to and where.” Lou sighed. “Now, one of the managers in the Mexican restaurant on that block was out today and will be back tomorrow, so I’ll follow up. And I’ll call up some of my guys on the force and ask them where are any other cameras they know of. Then I’ll follow up.”
Mary knew it was a tough break. “Okay, that sucks, but let’s stay with my original theory, which is, unfortunately, proving a negative. We can’t show yet that somebody else came from the opposite direction. But the police can’t show that there was nobody else but Judy. So we have to keep hammering that it had to have been someone who came in after she left the apartment.” Mary glanced at Judy, who was on edge. “I just can’t figure out why anybody would want to kill John. Can you?”
“No, not at all.”
“He got along with the neighbors?”
“He hardly knew them. He was private. You know how he was.”
“Was he ever burglarized before?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Never mugged or anything?”
“No.” Judy raked her fingers through her hair. “I just can’t believe they suspect me of killing him. This is anightmare.”
“Honey, don’t worry, they need a lot more than they have to meet reasonable doubt.”
“That’s true,” Bennie added. “It’s not enough to charge you, Carrier.”
“What more do they need?” Judy raked her hands through her hair again. “I should know, but I can’t even think. It’s been a horrible day.” She looked over at Roger, almost apologetically. “And I’m trying, but I don’t feel very centered right now.”
Roger’s expression softened. “That’s completely understandable, Judy. I have some thoughts that may help you with your loss, which I can let you have at a more appropriate time. As you know, there is much in the teachings about passing on to the next stage.”
“Yes, in Buddhism, too.” Judy sighed. “But I have more immediate worries, like the police.”
“Of course. I’m not a criminal lawyer, so this is beyond my ken.”
Bennie leaned forward. “Carrier, before they can charge you, they need physical evidence, for starters. Trace evidence, like DNA, hair, fibers, fingerprints, maybe blood.”
Judy bit her lip. “But my blood, hair and prints will be all over his apartment, and sooner or later, the cops are going to call me back in. I’m going to have to give samples. I don’t have a right to refuse that.”
Mary’s thoughts raced. “But not on the murder weapon, right? The detectives told us that they think John was killed using the base of a lamp. Did you touch the base of the lamp?”
Judy’s forehead remained tense. “I doubt it. I know the lamp they mean. It’s a chrome desk lamp. It has a big heavy base, and one of those metal arms that has a joint, like an elbow.”
