Free The Way You Die Tonight by Robert Randisi Page A

saying that place is filled with evil people,’ she said. ‘This building is not.’
    â€˜Do you know if she had any … gentlemen friends?’
    â€˜Helen kept to herself,’ Martha Orchid said. ‘I never saw her go out after she came home from work.’
    â€˜What about something like grocery shopping?’
    â€˜She usually came home from work with a couple of bags of groceries. Sometimes she bought me a few things. I don’t go out, you see.’
    â€˜I understand. So you’ve never known her to have an argument with anyone in the building?’
    Miss Orchid hesitated.
    â€˜Martha?’
    â€˜Well,’ she said, ‘she did have cross words once or twice with Mr Hannigan.’
    â€˜And who is Mr Hannigan?’
    â€˜They call him the manager, but he’s just a glorified super.’
    â€˜Oh, I spoke to him, briefly.’
    â€˜Well, perhaps you should speak to him more,’ she suggested. ‘Maybe you will learn something.’
    â€˜I’ll do that,’ Danny said. He had to return the key, anyway. ‘Thank you for your time, Martha.’
    He stood up. She rose to her feet more slowly and walked him to the door.
    â€˜How did she die?’ she asked.
    â€˜That’s not something you want to think about, ma’am.’
    â€˜I’m eighty-three years old, young man,’ she said. ‘Not much could shock me.’
    He didn’t believe her. A woman who thought casinos were evil would be shocked by a lot of things – least of all the way Helen Simms had died.
    â€˜Yes, ma’am,’ he said, and left.

TWENTY-ONE
    H e went back downstairs to the manager’s apartment and rang the bell.
    The man opened the door, chewing on something, and said, ‘Got my key?’
    â€˜I’d like to come in and ask you some questions, Mr Hannigan.’ He didn’t hand the key back. Not yet.
    â€˜What about?’
    â€˜Helen Simms.’
    â€˜You said she’s dead,’ he replied. ‘What’s that got to do with me?’
    â€˜We need some information,’ he said, knowing that the man would interpret the ‘we’ as being the police. He still hadn’t claimed to be a cop, though.
    â€˜I’m eatin’ my dinner.’
    â€˜I won’t take long,’ Danny said. ‘I’ll try not to upset your … family.’
    The man scowled. ‘Got no family. Just me. Yeah, OK, come on in.’
    Danny went inside and closed the door. The apartment was similar to that of Martha Orchid’s, but instead of smelling musty it just smelled stale – old food, sweat – and just plain dirty.
    â€˜OK, my dinner’s on the table in the kitchen,’ Hannigan said, turning to face Danny, ‘so whatta ya want?’
    â€˜Do you know anybody in the building who might have had something against Helen Simms?’
    â€˜She was a stuck-up, snooty bitch but I don’t think anybody wanted to kill ’er.’
    â€˜Stuck-up?’
    â€˜Too good for everybody else, ya know?’
    â€˜Everybody else, or you?’
    Hannigan squinted at him.
    â€˜Whatta ya mean?’
    â€˜I heard you and she had words once or twice?’
    â€˜Who told you that?’ Hannigan asked. ‘The nosy old biddy across the hall?’
    â€˜Somebody.’
    â€˜Yeah, well, all I ever did was ask her out a couple of times,’ Hannigan said. ‘She got nasty and turned me down flat.’
    â€˜Nasty?’
    â€˜You know,’ Hannigan said, ‘one of those broads who can’t just turn ya down, she’s gotta shoot ya down, too. Ya know, make ya feel bad about yerself?’
    â€˜So she made you feel bad about yourself?’
    â€˜Hey, not me,’ Hannigan said. ‘I get plenty of broads. I ain’t gonna break down and start cryin’ just ’cause one don’t like me. There’s plenny of ’em out there. The bars are full of