Read Online 27 Blood in the Water by Jane Haddam - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jane Haddam
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and into the kitchen. Bennis had not just left the paperwork from the Mattatuck case out on the table. She had spaced it out in neat stacks that, Gregor was sure, would turn out to be organized. Bennis had been “self-employed” for a lot longer than he had. She understood these things.
Of course, he’d been self-employed himself now for over a decade. He ought to understand these things.
He left all the paperwork where it was and went out into the hallway. The apartment door snicked shut behind him. He tried to hear the lock click into place, but it was difficult. Grace was upstairs with her door open again, practicing on a harpsichord. Either that, or she was practicing on something called “mother and child virginals.” A lot of keyboard instruments were lifted up through the windows of Grace’s apartment.
“Grace?” Gregor said.
The playing stopped. There was a slight pounding of feet and a head appeared at the stair rail above him.
“Hello, Gregor,” Grace said. “Are you all right? Where’s Bennis? Did I wake you up with my playing?”
“I’ve been up for an hour, and you never wake me up.”
“I’ve got a concert tonight at the museum,” Grace said. “It’s too bad, don’t you think? They call it early music and nobody comes, so we have to play in museums. A lot of people would like harpsichord music if they could hear it, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure they would,” Gregor said. “I like it when I hear you play it. Bennis wanted to know if we should make some special arrangements when you move downstairs. For the instruments, I think she means. I know it won’t be for months now. She seems to think she needs to know everything at once.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Grace said, “she just wants to be prepared. I understand that. I don’t think there’s going to be a problem. They pack up, you know, and it’s not like we’re trying to get them through the front door. Do you have any idea why they made that front door so narrow? I mean, I know most people aren’t trying to get instruments in here, but still. It’s like squeezing through a toothpaste tube.”
“I think it was to discourage break-ins,” Gregor said.
“On Cavanaugh Street?” Grace snorted. “The only person who’s going to break into a house on Cavanaugh Street is Donna, and all she’s going to want is to get at your windows so she can decorate. You’d think they’d know better than that, wouldn’t you? I mean, they’re supposed to be running the entire city.”
Gregor had no idea if Grace was talking about the mayor’s office, or the police, or who. He didn’t think he’d learn much by asking.
“I’m going to go get some breakfast,” he said. “You should talk to Bennis so she doesn’t get too crazy.”
“I will. Have a good morning, Gregor. And try not to be so depressed.”
Grace’s head disappeared from the stair rail, and a moment later Gregor heard playing again. It was the harpsichord he was listening to, he realized. That was Bach’s Concerto in D Minor. It was one of maybe four harpsichord pieces he could recognize just by listening to it.
He turned down the stairwell and went carefully and slowly, as if he were afraid to trip. The apartments in this building were all “floor-throughs.” There was one apartment on each floor, taking up the entire floor. The floor below Gregor’s own, the second, actually belonged to Bennis, and was now part of the apartment above it. Bennis’s first idea for making a home had been to knock out some walls and some ceiling and meld the two apartments together. Gregor had thought this was a very good idea, but for some reason it had never quite come off. The two apartments were melded together, but he and Bennis always stayed upstairs on the third floor, as if the second did not exist. Bennis did her writing on the second floor, but that was all. She hadn’t even stored her renovating samples down there.
Gregor stood on the landing and
Of course, he’d been self-employed himself now for over a decade. He ought to understand these things.
He left all the paperwork where it was and went out into the hallway. The apartment door snicked shut behind him. He tried to hear the lock click into place, but it was difficult. Grace was upstairs with her door open again, practicing on a harpsichord. Either that, or she was practicing on something called “mother and child virginals.” A lot of keyboard instruments were lifted up through the windows of Grace’s apartment.
“Grace?” Gregor said.
The playing stopped. There was a slight pounding of feet and a head appeared at the stair rail above him.
“Hello, Gregor,” Grace said. “Are you all right? Where’s Bennis? Did I wake you up with my playing?”
“I’ve been up for an hour, and you never wake me up.”
“I’ve got a concert tonight at the museum,” Grace said. “It’s too bad, don’t you think? They call it early music and nobody comes, so we have to play in museums. A lot of people would like harpsichord music if they could hear it, don’t you think?”
“I’m sure they would,” Gregor said. “I like it when I hear you play it. Bennis wanted to know if we should make some special arrangements when you move downstairs. For the instruments, I think she means. I know it won’t be for months now. She seems to think she needs to know everything at once.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” Grace said, “she just wants to be prepared. I understand that. I don’t think there’s going to be a problem. They pack up, you know, and it’s not like we’re trying to get them through the front door. Do you have any idea why they made that front door so narrow? I mean, I know most people aren’t trying to get instruments in here, but still. It’s like squeezing through a toothpaste tube.”
“I think it was to discourage break-ins,” Gregor said.
“On Cavanaugh Street?” Grace snorted. “The only person who’s going to break into a house on Cavanaugh Street is Donna, and all she’s going to want is to get at your windows so she can decorate. You’d think they’d know better than that, wouldn’t you? I mean, they’re supposed to be running the entire city.”
Gregor had no idea if Grace was talking about the mayor’s office, or the police, or who. He didn’t think he’d learn much by asking.
“I’m going to go get some breakfast,” he said. “You should talk to Bennis so she doesn’t get too crazy.”
“I will. Have a good morning, Gregor. And try not to be so depressed.”
Grace’s head disappeared from the stair rail, and a moment later Gregor heard playing again. It was the harpsichord he was listening to, he realized. That was Bach’s Concerto in D Minor. It was one of maybe four harpsichord pieces he could recognize just by listening to it.
He turned down the stairwell and went carefully and slowly, as if he were afraid to trip. The apartments in this building were all “floor-throughs.” There was one apartment on each floor, taking up the entire floor. The floor below Gregor’s own, the second, actually belonged to Bennis, and was now part of the apartment above it. Bennis’s first idea for making a home had been to knock out some walls and some ceiling and meld the two apartments together. Gregor had thought this was a very good idea, but for some reason it had never quite come off. The two apartments were melded together, but he and Bennis always stayed upstairs on the third floor, as if the second did not exist. Bennis did her writing on the second floor, but that was all. She hadn’t even stored her renovating samples down there.
Gregor stood on the landing and
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