Chapter Four
Terry was lying in bed listening to the wind ravage the world outside. He could hear trash blowing down the street, a car alarm somewhere went off. Then his beeper. Stormy nights were usually a bad time for homicides.
"What's going on?" Annie asked sleepily.
"Nothing." Terry sat up and reached for his pants on the chair next to the bed as he hung up the phone. It was two in the morning. "Go to sleep."
"Hurry back," she said.
Terry hurried out, almost forgetting his gun and badge in his haste.
Jimmy picked him up, looking haggard. "Why don't you look as bad as I feel?" he asked.
"Because I couldn't sleep. I'm a bit of an insomniac sometimes."
Jimmy yawned. "More power to you. What's the address again?"
They pulled up in front of a run-down apartment building. "Middle of the night, I wish it was a swankier place," Terry said as they got out of the car. The wind tore at his overcoat as they hurried for the door.
"I bet they don't even have heat," Jimmy said, his teeth chattering, but he looked more awake than he had.
"You're getting soft, Jimmy."
"You're lucky I'm dressed." They ran up the stairs to the apartment, Doug and Gabe waiting for them. There were officers on the stairs one floor up.
Gabe pointed. "Body's up there. This apartment was open and empty, we're guessing the DOA lives here, but he had no ID on him."
"None?" Terry asked.
"You don't carry much when you sleep in the nude," Doug said.
Terry followed Jimmy up the stairs to look at the body and talk to a couple officers, then they headed back to the apartment to look it over.
"Found a couple pictures," Doug said. "DOA lives here."
The place smelled strongly of stale cigarette smoke. Terry sidestepped as a mouse skittered by his feet. The wind was still rattling at the windows, the main door to the building blew open. It started pouring.
"Let's be thorough," Jimmy said.
Terry nodded and they spread out.
"Hey!" Jimmy called a minute later. "Got a locked cupboard here. It was hidden behind this old roaster. Help me move it, huh?"
Terry hurried into the kitchen and helped Jimmy hoist down an industrial-sized spit.
"We can have a hog-roast after we clear the case, how's that?" Jimmy asked. He turned to look at the various latches on the cupboard and the lights went out. Jimmy swore.
Terry leaned forward as Jimmy fumbled with the latches and a rusted lock.
"Get me something to knock this lock off with, will you?"
"I bet it'll be filled with rats," Gabe said, coming up behind as Terry slowly searched the drawers.
"Here's a screwdriver."
"No hammer?"
"None." Terry handed over the screwdriver in the next burst of lightning. The apartment was dimly lit in the occasional lightning and from the residual glow of the rest of the city, but it wasn't enough to see more than vague shapes. Terry listened as Jimmy pounded the lock with the butt of the screwdriver, heard it crack but not give. Jimmy pried the lock, using the tool as a crowbar until it snapped the old padlock, sending pieces flying. Jimmy swore. "You okay?"
"I'm due for my tetanus shot anyway."
Terry listened as Jimmy fumbled with the rest of the hooks and latches.
"Does anyone have any light?"
"I quit smoking two months ago," Doug said. "You want me to start again?"
"ASAP." Jimmy banged the metal cupboard. "Got it," he said triumphantly. The lights came back on. Jimmy looked up at the ceiling. "That was so not fair." He pried open the seldom-used door.
"Rats?" Gabe asked hopefully.
"Rats wouldn't fit, dope," Doug said, thumping his partner on the arm.
"A whole hell of a lot of cellophane," Jimmy said with a laugh, pulling out roll after roll. "Two year's supply, at least."
"We should wrap it up for the white elephant exchange for Christmas," Doug said.
Jimmy searched the cupboard, pulling himself onto the counter to look up top. "Nothing. Good for smothering people, but that's about it. And since we haven't had a serial killer suffocating anyone, we got nothing."
Gabe poked his head back in from the living room. "Looks like he makes plaster of Paris sculptures of body parts."
"So why'd he lock up his art supplies?"
Gabe started whistling "People are Strange" and Jimmy joined in as they searched the rest of the apartment.
The power went out again.
"Terry?" Jimmy called.
"Yeah." He walked down the hall carefully in the dark.
"Let's call it a night. We won't get nothing done if the lights keep going out like this."
Terry felt Jimmy bump into him, move him aside, then continue down the hall. There was a thump and Jimmy swore, but didn't slacken his pace. "Watch the table," he called back.
Terry followed, slowly feeling in front of him before making each step.