husband is in Michigan ice fishing, of all things. I told him he should have just stayed home. We seem to be having the required weather.”
Diane sat on a cream-colored love seat, Garnett on a stuffed dark blue chair. Jere sat opposite them on a sofa that matched the love seat.
“What is the victim . . . the young lady’s name?” asked Garnett.
“Joana Cipriano. That’s with one n in Joana. She teaches music at the university. Very nice young woman.”
She stopped and her eyes teared and almost overflowed. Diane and Garnett waited.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I told myself that I wasn’t going to do this. You need information to catch the man who did . . . what he did.”
“Man?” asked Garnett.
“It was a man at her door. I didn’t see him do it and I only saw his back. I can describe his size and clothes, that’s about all.”
“Tell us what you know,” said Diane.
“I’ve been here by myself all day. Resting from, well, you know. Anyway . . . these apartments are pretty soundproof, but sometimes you can hear when someone comes to the door of your neighbor. Joana, as you can see, is just across the sidewalk from me. I was sitting there reading.” She pointed to a chair by the front window. “My curtains were drawn. I draw them when I sit in front of the window. I heard someone knock on Joana’s door. She opened it and this male voice asked her . . . I’ve been trying to play it back in my mind, but it was muffled.” She put an index finger to her forehead and tapped as if jiggling her thoughts. “But he said something about a book. Did she have a book. Something like that.”
“A book?” said Garnett. He looked briefly at Diane. “Did he say what kind?”
“No, not that I heard.” She paused. “Then Joana said, ‘Do I know you?’ and I didn’t hear his answer, just mumbling.” She shook her head. “There was something in his voice that worried me. I can’t really put my finger on it. But there was something in his tone that I didn’t like. I’m one to act on my instincts, so I called the police. I know they thought I was crazy—reporting a perfectly normal conversation and asking them to investigate. I thought, well, the worst they can think of me is that I’m a crazy woman, but if something is wrong, they can prevent it.” She shook her head again. “I told them it didn’t sound right to me. They said they would send someone, but it took over an hour.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Bowden,” said Garnett. “I’ll look into that delay.”
“Can you tell us what he looked like?” asked Diane.
“I looked out the window before I called the police. He was a large man in a black coat. Like a ski coat—made of that kind of material. He had on blue jeans and brown work boots and a baseball-like cap, but it was padded and sort of matched his coat. I saw some of his hair sticking out the back of his cap. It was black with a few gray streaks through it. He wasn’t a young man, but he wasn’t old, either. If I had to guess, I’d say early fifties, maybe a little younger. His head came to just under the fixture for her porch light.”
“That’s a very good description,” said Garnett.
“I want to help. When I looked out the window, I made note of what he looked like. As I said, his voice didn’t sound right to me.”
“Could you recognize an accent?” asked Diane.
Jere thought for a moment. “His voice wasn’t that clear. I had the impression he wasn’t from the South, but I could be completely wrong on that.”
“Did you hear anything that happened in the apartment?” asked Diane.
“No. When I came back from calling the police he wasn’t at her door anymore, and it was closed. I listened, but I couldn’t hear anything. But as I said, these apartments are really very soundproof once the doors are closed.” She sighed and her eyes watered up again. “I should have gone over and knocked.”
“No, Mrs. Bowden,” said Garnett, “you should not have. You did the right thing. I’m just sorry it took so long for the police to get here.”
“I’ll keep trying to remember anything else,” she said. “However, I have to tell you that she also has an ex-husband who was trying to get