the middle of the afternoon like that. She finally succeeded in unlocking the door and lurched inside. T.S. scampered up the stairs and peeked through the front door window in an effort to see which floor she called home.
She chose the nearest floor—which just happened to be the entrance hallway—and slumped against a small storage door set into the wall. She closed her eyes as the door slowly opened and the upper half of her body tumbled into the closet, where she promptly fell asleep. Her thighs and legs, encased in torn black stockings and cheap heels, protruded anonymously into the hallway like an updated version of the Wicked Witch of the East in The Wizard of Oz. T.S. heard a faint buzz begin. At least she was not dying of an overdose before his eyes, and was still capable of lusty snoring.
He contemplated waiting to see what would happen when the bad-tempered superintendent discovered her tenant sprawled across the carpet. But then T.S. decided he'd had his fill of surly strangers for one day and hurried back to his aunt.
"Which floor?" she asked.
"The front hallway floor. She had just enough steam to get inside and now she's snoring away inside the janitor's closet, near the superintendent's door."
"They're good friends, no doubt." Auntie Lil shook her head and glanced at her watch. "It's nearly four. I have just enough time to check out the soup kitchen before it closes."
"The soup kitchen? You got tossed out on your ear, remember?"
"I was told I couldn't work there anymore," she reminded him. "No one said I couldn't go there for a meal."
T.S. stared at her without comment.
"The sign says that all who are hungry are welcome," she insisted petulantly. "Besides, I have to question Adelle and the ladies again."
T.S. sighed. "All right. Give it a whirl. But you're on your own. I'm heading down to Centre Street to see who owns this building and if Abromowitz throws you behind bars, you'll just have to find someone else to bail you out."
"Harvey's at eight?" she asked. "I'll call Herbert and invite him."
"Harvey's at eight." T.S. headed for the subway, thinking longingly of the bar at Harvey's. It would be hushed and dark right now, nearly deserted and at its most inviting. What he really wanted was a good stiff drink and no one to bother him while he drank it. He needed time to explore his memory. Where had he seen that dreadfully attired woman before?
Auntie Lil arrived at St. Barnabas just as the last of the hungry in line were entering the basement. She squeezed in behind them and looked around. Fran and Father Stebbins were both busy behind the counter. There were two obviously bored detectives sitting at far tables interviewing people, but Auntie Lil did not recognize any of them. She sniffed the air suspiciously. Yes, just as she had feared. Fran had overspiced the spaghetti sauce and ruined its flavor. Oh, well. After a giant hero sandwich, cheesecake and three meat pies, not even she was hungry again yet.
Just to be safe, she pulled her felt hat down over her face and sidled up to Adelle's table. She knew Fran would not hesitate to take the advantage Lieutenant Abromowitz had handed her and run with it.
"What in the world?" Adelle demanded in a cultured voice. She had decided to be British for the day and her accent was impeccable.
"It's me," Auntie Lil hissed back.
"For heaven's sake, Lillian," Adelle sniffed. "Why the big disguise?"
"I've been thrown out of here," Auntie Lil told the assembled old actresses indignantly. "By the awful lieutenant in charge of investigating Emily's death."
"Can you believe it?" one old lady asked breathlessly. "Poisoned. One of us poisoned. But by who? And why?"
"Her secrets caught up with her," Eva declared. "That's what she gets for being so superior."
Adelle sighed. "Sit down Lillian. Take off that hat and just turn your back to the crowd. They can't tell one old lady from another, believe me."
Auntie Lil did as she suggested. "How was the sauce?" she demanded.
"Overspiced," Adelle answered promptly. "Honestly. That Fran woman doesn't know the meaning of subtle. She's the Marion Davies of the cooking set." Heads bobbed in agreement.
"So you've heard that Emily was poisoned," Auntie Lil said. "It was most astonishing. I helped discover it, you know." The crowd tittered in appreciation, but no one asked for details. They at least pretended to be a well-bred bunch.
"We've been exchanging theories," Adelle confessed. "And we can't come up