Shivers by William Schoell Page B

the cupboard, and Harry swerved his body to grab it before it hit the floor. He would have gotten it, except that something outside the window suddenly caught his eye—something that was captured in the flashing lights from the living room.
    “Baby. Do you see what I see?”
    “What?” she asked.
    “Look. Out the window.”
    Snow.

 
     
    PART II
     
    Thursday, October 17th

 
     
    FOUR
     
     
    S TEVEN HAD INSISTED on seeing Detective Albright in person on Thursday morning. Both of them looked awful. Both were preoccupied, carrying personal burdens that made it hard for them to concentrate on what the other was saying. The detective had yet another half-eaten breakfast on his desk. As they rushed through the police formalities, the detective belched, excused himself, and questioned Steven unenthusiastically.
    “So your—eh—brother is still missing?” he asked, his teeth crunching into a toasted buttered bagel.
    “Yes, he is. Obviously he wasn’t out gallivanting Tuesday night like everyone seems to think he was.” The detective nodded. Steven added irritably, “Don’t you ever eat breakfast at home, like most people?”
    “If I ate at home my wife would make me a big breakfast, and I’d eat it, because my wife is a terrific cook. Omelets are her specialty. And I’m supposed to be on a diet, understand?” He chewed the piece of bagel thoughtfully, as if hoping Steven would go away.
    “Well, now that we have that out of the way,” Steven said, “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in some additional information I have that may shed some light on the case?”
    “Go ahead. What is it?”
    Steven told him about Vivian Jessup, her story about Joey’s suicidal threats, her fear of talking to the police.
    “If someone from the police were to question her, perhaps we’d be able to get to the bottom of this.”
    “She sounds a little batty to me,” Albright said. “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have a talk with her. Wanta come with me?”
    “You mean, you’ll go? You’ll do it?”
    Albright gave him a comical glare. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
    “Sure, I’ll go with you. I could tell you if what she’s saying corresponds to the story she gave me last night.”
    “As soon as I’m finished, we’ll leave.” He smiled at Steven. “Want a piece of bagel?”
    Steven declined.
     
    They drove over to Vivian’s apartment in silence. Albright cursed a few times at the lousy drivers and the slow-moving traffic, but did not address himself to Steven. Steven couldn’t find much to say either. He was still wondering why the detective had taken time from his busy schedule to check out what could not have been one of his major cases. Not that he was complaining.
    They parked down the block from Vivian’s building, disembarked, and asked the doorman —not the one who’d been on duty the night before—to ring the buzzer to the manager’s office.
    The manager was a middle-aged woman with a puffy face, bleached hair, and a fattening body squeezed into slacks that were excruciatingly tight on her. “Yes?” she said nervously. “Can I help you gentlemen?”
    Albright showed her his badge. Upon discovering that he was a representative of the law, she got even more nervous. “Is something wrong?”
    Steven was surprised at the lazy detective’s initiative. He extracted a picture of Joey from his wallet and asked the woman if she had ever seen him entering or leaving the building. When she responded negatively, he asked her a few simple questions about Mrs. Jessup.
    “I don’t know her too well. My husband fixed some things in her place last week sometime; said she had company. Male company. He might be able to tell you more. But I don’t know much about the residents’ comings and goings. It ain’t none of my business.” She offered to call the woman over the intercom.
    “No thanks,” Albright said. “We’d like to go up unannounced.”
    “Suit yourself,