Free The Way You Die Tonight by Robert Randisi

impersonated a cop. Not really.
    The apartment was small, a living room, bedroom, and kitchenette. He spent most of his time in her bedroom, and bathroom. The usual in her medicine cabinet: aspirin, Midol, cough syrup, eye drops, a couple of prescription bottles that he put in his pocket. He’d find out what they were for later.
    There was a small writing desk in one corner of the bedroom. He went to it, checked all the drawers, the blotter on top. Then he went to her dressing mirror. People often left messages clipped to their mirror. No such luck. So he checked her refrigerator. The inside was almost empty, except for the remnants of a take-home salad, and a half bottle of white wine.
    He hoped he’d find out more from the neighbors than he had from her apartment.

TWENTY
    H e tried several of the other apartments on the floor, but the tenants were either at work or not answering. He’d have to try in the afternoon, when people came home from work.
    However, he did get an answer when he knocked on the door of 805, which was directly across from Helen.
    The door opened a couple of inches and a woman’s eye looked out. There were enough wrinkles around it to tell him she was elderly.
    â€˜Yes? What do you want?’ a tremulous voice asked.
    â€˜Ma’am, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’d like to ask you some questions about your neighbor across the hall? Miss Simms?’
    â€˜Helen? She’s a lovely girl. Why are you asking? Why should I talk to you?’
    â€˜Ma’am, I’m sorry to tell you … Helen is dead.’
    â€˜What? That can’t be, young man. I saw her yesterday morning, when she left for work.’
    â€˜And she didn’t come home, did she?’ he asked.
    â€˜Well, no …’
    â€˜That’s because she’s dead, ma’am.’
    â€˜Oh dear … are you the police?’
    He decided not to lie.
    â€˜No, ma’am, but I’m assisting the police in their inquiries. Could I come in just for a few minutes and ask some questions?’
    â€˜I-I suppose so,’ she said. She closed the door. He heard the chain lock slip off and then it reopened to reveal a tiny, old woman wearing a housecoat. ‘Come in, young man.’
    â€˜Thank you, ma’am.’
    He stepped inside and she closed the door. He immediately noticed the musty smell in the place. This was a woman who rarely opened her windows.
    â€˜Can I get you some tea or lemonade?’ she asked.
    â€˜No, ma’am,’ he said, ‘I don’t want to put you out. I just need to ask a few questions.’
    â€˜Well, please sit down, then.’
    He looked around. The sofa and chairs were expensive, and they were covered with plastic. She sat down on the sofa, so he chose one of the chairs. The plastic creaked as he sat.
    â€˜How did she die?’ the woman asked.
    â€˜That’s what we’re looking into,’ he said. ‘Someone may have killed her, or … she may have done it, herself.’
    â€˜Oh, no,’ she said, shaking her head, ‘that sweet child would never have done that.’ She had bright blue eyes that looked out at him from a mass of wrinkles. Her mouth was set in a straight, disapproving line. ‘No, no, never.’
    â€˜Then, ma’am—’
    â€˜My name is Miss Orchid,’ she said. ‘Or you may call me Martha.’
    â€˜All right, Martha,’ he said, ‘would you know of anyone who might want to hurt Helen?’
    â€˜Why, no,’ she said. ‘Everyone in the building who knows – knew her – liked her. I don’t think you’ll find anyone here who would hurt her. You should try that place.’
    â€˜What place?’
    â€˜That place where she works.’
    â€˜The Sands, you mean? The hotel?’
    â€˜Casino,’ she said, slowly. Her tone was heavy with disapproval.
    â€˜You think someone at the casino wanted to hurt her?’
    â€˜I am