Three-Day Town - By Margaret Maron Page 0,88

and there was nothing I could do about it.

Then merciful darkness took me.

CHAPTER

24

Occasionally there is an alley or small court that runs back or across the rear of the buildings, with its accumulation of rubbish and wretched out-houses where… thieves have their runways and hiding-places.

—The New New York, 1909

DWIGHT BRYANT—TUESDAY MORNING

Dwight turned in his sleep, reached for Deborah, and felt nothing but pillows. The window showed a dark sky, so he lay there half awake and listened for her to come back to bed. After a few moments, he realized that the only sounds he heard came from outside. A large truck was moving noisily down the street out front, but here in the apartment, all was quiet.

Puzzled, he rolled out of bed and looked into the bathroom.

Empty.

“Deb’rah?”

No answer and a quick look through the other rooms let him know she had gone out.

He glanced at his watch. Now where the hell could she be at 6:50 in the morning?

Another quick search showed that her parka and her boots were gone, which meant she had gone outside.

On the other hand, because she had not dropped her nightclothes on the bed as she usually did, he had to assume she had not dressed in street clothes, so she probably intended to duck out and be back before he missed her. But where?

He stepped out onto the balcony off the living room. The frigid early morning air nipped at his face. On the street below, a big sanitation truck with flashing yellow lights had stopped in front of this building and two men, well bundled against the cold, were collecting from either side of the street. A third man, one of this building’s employees to judge by the brown uniform, was helping. Daylight had begun to lighten the dull gray sky, but from this height and at this angle, it was hard to make out features beneath their hats. As Dwight watched, the man slung what looked to be a rather heavy bag into the maw of the truck and then stood back, obscured by the other two men, with his hand on another bag as they cleared the curb of garbage. Disregarding them, Dwight leaned over the balcony and scanned the sidewalks.

No Deborah.

Down below, the man in the brown uniform swung his second heavy bag up into the back of the truck. Then, as the two sanitation workers followed the truck on down to the next pile of garbage, he disappeared through what was evidently a side entrance into this building.

Dwight quickly pulled on his boots and the wool slacks he had worn last night and grabbed up his wallet, keys, and phone, noting with exasperation that of course Deborah had left hers in the charger. One of these days he was going to chain that phone around her neck if she didn’t start carrying it.

And start keeping it on.

Out in the hall, he rang for the elevator, and when it came, the operator with the walrus mustache gave a dour nod and pulled back the brass gate.

“Horvath, right?” Dwight asked as he stepped inside.

“Yeah?”

“You haven’t seen my wife, have you?”

“The pretty lady that was with you last night?”

“Yes. Did you take her downstairs?”

Horvath shook his head. “Nope. You’re the first from this floor since I came on duty.” He closed the gate and the door and turned the brass handle so that they started down.

“You sure?”

“Positive, mister. Only been three people down so far and all of ’em were men.” He paused as if to think. “And a dog.”

“Could she have taken the service elevator?”

He shrugged. “I suppose. Would’ve heard it, though, and I didn’t.”

“And she didn’t go out the front door?”

“Not that I saw, and I’ve been awake for at least an hour.”

“Who else is on duty now?”

“Nobody. Just me till eight o’clock.”

“But I saw someone in a brown uniform out on the sidewalk just now. He helped throw garbage bags in the truck.”

“Not me, mister. Elevator men don’t mess with garbage and the porters don’t come on till eight.”

The elevator stopped at the first floor and Horvath started to open the doors, but Dwight stopped him.

“Take me down to the basement.”

“I’m telling you. There’s nobody there,” he protested. “I was down there not twenty minutes ago and I had the place to myself.” Nevertheless, he closed the gate again and turned the brass handle another notch.

As soon as they reached the basement and the doors slid back, Dwight walked out into the dimly lit passageway and called, “Deb’rah?