Free Murder Is Uncooperative by Merrilee Robson

building.”
    â€œI've been told that Mr. Walter was instrumental in helping you move into the building. Yet you say you didn't know him.” D'Onofrio was frowning.
    â€œWell, he was the person who took my application and showed me around the apartment. He seemed like a good manager who really cared about the co-op. And he was always willing to be helpful.”
    â€œI've also been told he gave you preferential treatment for this apartment and a parking space.”
    I frowned. “No. I've been on the waiting list for a year. And then my father needed a wheelchair-accessible apartment. We were lucky to get this place. But the only other family I've heard about was smaller and didn't need wheelchair access. I guess there must have been others. But I'm sure the process was fair.”
    "And the parking space?” D'Onofrio asked.
    â€œI don't know. A parking spot in the underground garage comes with the apartment. Les mentioned something about wanting it to be convenient for my father's wheelchair. I don't know if anyone else wanted that spot. I certainly didn't ask for any particular parking spot.”
    â€œSo you're saying there wasn't any particular relationship between you and Mr. Walter?” he continued.
    â€œYes, that's what I'm saying. I just met the man. I know he listed the office assistant as a contact in his personnel file but I don't know what their relationship is.”
    He glanced at his notebook. “Did you notice if Ms. Arsenault had blood on her clothing when you went to get her?”
    â€œWhen I went to get her? No, of course not. Surely you don't suspect she had anything to do with this.”
    I remembered Gwen wiping her bloody hands on the sleeves of her sweater. But that had been later, after we'd been trying to help Les.
    D'onofrio's golden eyes looked at me the way I imagined an eagle might look at his prey. “And Ms. Cole? Did she appear to have blood on her clothing?”
    â€œI don't think so.” I remembered Mariana hugging me in the hall. “Well, maybe from me. I got some blood on my clothes when I tried to give Les first aid.”
    â€œYes, I gather, Ms. Butler, that you were completely covered in blood.”
    I gulped. “There . . . there was a lot of blood. Head wounds seem to bleed a lot. Anyway, I was trying to stop the bleeding before the ambulance got there. Gwen had a tea towel. I think she was doing dishes when I went to get her. I used it to try to stop the bleeding. I don't know what happened to it.”
    "We'll find it if it's still in the office. What happened to the clothes you were wearing that night?” he asked.
    â€œI . . . I threw them out. They were covered in blood.” I could feel tears gathering in my eyes. “I never wanted to see them again. Even if I'd washed them, I'd always think about Les.”
    I thought I saw a glimpse of sympathy in his eyes. But he went on. “And these clothes, you put them where?
    â€œIn the dumpster out back.” He wrote something in his notebook. “They might still be in there. I don't know when the garbage gets collected.”
    He made another note in his book and looked at me again.
    â€œCan you tell me why you were in the office so late at night?”
    I could feel myself blushing. “Um, I wanted to ask Les something. And it wasn't really late. The co-op meeting had just finished.”
    â€œIs it true that you had gone down to talk to Mr. Walter because you had just heard that the co-op members believed that you had used sexual favors to get your apartment?”
    Sexual favors? That sounded oddly quaint. I might have laughed if I hadn't been so embarrassed. I could feel my face getting even redder. “I don't know what all the co-op members believe. But, yes, Naomi, my neighbor, told me she had heard that. It was nonsense, of course.”
    â€œAnd I believe she told you she had heard this from Mr. Walter. And you wanted to confront him about