Free The Company She Kept by Archer Mayor

and forgot me for the fortieth time. That’s what I call him, Useless Fred, because of all the good he comes to, given the money I pay him.”
    She said all this as if in a single sentence, slowly backing up to allow them to enter. In fact, they imagined that the uniformed Montpelier cop who’d been asked to secure the top floor was less bored than he was frightened of being cornered by his hostess, since they could see him cautiously peering over the railing overlooking the two-story entrance hall where they were standing.
    They honored his silent cowering by not waving or speaking out, instead heading toward the elaborate hardwood staircase and letting Miss Rockefeller know that they’d be back down in a while, and maybe enjoy sharing a cup of tea then.
    That central hall told the tale of the house—wood panels, stained-glass windows, both soaring overhead to a vaulted, coffered ceiling and an enormous chandelier—suspended like a relic caught between the Middle Ages and Downton Abbey. It was all on display from a magisterial staircase that ran along two adjacent walls, leading up to a landing suitable for an operatic diva. And yet, dust covered everything, the dirty windows demanded compensatory lighting at midday, and enough bulbs were burned out in the chandelier to render such effort futile. The rugs were threadbare, boxes were piled everywhere, there was a scent of mustiness touched by mildew in the air, and Perry noticed a few rodent droppings scattered along the treads as he climbed. The hired help of yore was being sorely missed.
    â€œDamn,” he muttered. “See that? And her name’s Rockefeller?”
    â€œThat means rich, bro,” Parker told him. “Not tidy.”
    They found the patrol cop standing just out of sight from below. “You the VBI guys?” he asked.
    â€œOne and only,” Parker answered. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “She got you cornered?”
    The man only half smiled. “Pretty much. I can’t use the bathroom up here, ’cause it’s a crime scene, and every time I go downstairs, she’s waiting with that nonstop-talking thing. She’s a nice lady. I’m not saying she’s not. But she just never takes a breath, you know?”
    â€œYep. Noticed that.”
    Perry was looking around, mostly studying the floor. Parker tilted his head in his direction. “He’s afraid of giant rats, or maybe cockroaches.”
    The cop laughed. “Nah. It’s better up here. This part’s messy, but Raffner knew how to vacuum.”
    â€œThank God for that,” Perry said softly.
    â€œOkay,” Parker addressed the cop. “You’re off the hook for a while. We’re going to poke around. We’ll call the PD when we’re done so they can send somebody to sit on the place again. With any luck, you’ll be off duty, huh?”
    â€œGot that right,” the man said, passing them by and heading for the stairs. He paused a moment to point to a door blocking the distant hallway. “That’s as far as it goes, just so you know. That door’s locked. This side was Raffner’s apartment; past there is someone else’s. The old lady rents rooms above the garage, too.”
    Parker nodded. “Thanks.” He waited until the patrolman was out of earshot before he made an aside to his partner, “Maybe not so rich, either? I didn’t know the other side was a rental, too.”
    But Perry wasn’t so quick to agree. “Maybe that’s why she is rich—her and the whole family.” He tapped the side of his head. “Smart, if you don’t mind strangers wandering around your house.”
    â€œDon’t guess she does,” Parker agreed as they heard Regina Rockefeller burst into a volley of chatter as their colleague hove into view downstairs.
    They began from where they stood, putting down the kits they’d brought with them and struggling