1 Chapter 1
As he waited for the old, slow elevator, Tony leaned against the wall, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes in frustration. He knew what he’d heard, but he couldn’t figure out where the voice had come from, other than he thought it was this floor—or not.
“Are you all right?”
He put his glasses on, turned, and saw an older gentleman who lived in the building giving him a worried look.
Tony lifted one shoulder. “Yeah, I guess. I thought I heard someone calling for help. But I can’t figure out where they are. And as far as I can tell, no one else heard it but me.”
“A ghost,” the older man replied with a wink. “This place is old enough to have them.”
“No.” Tony shook his head. “This was real. I know it was. Hell, if it was a ghost, and I don’t believe in them, I’d think it’s a little too late for it to be calling for help.”
“What did they say?”
“Don’t hurt me.”
“It came from up here?”
“I don’t know,” Tony replied in frustration. “I have my windows open and…” He spread his hands.
“Maybe it was someone on the street?”
“No. I went out on my balcony to check, even though it sounded like it came from somewhere above my place.” Tony glanced down the hallway. “I suppose it could have been from someone’s TV, but it sounded so real.”
The man laughed. “Isn’t that the idea, with a TV show?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Tony knew the older man was right, but he couldn’t dispel the idea that what he’d heard had been someone in distress.
“You should have called the cops if you were really worried.”
“And tell them what? That I heard something from somewhere that might have been a TV turned up too loud? That would have gone over big, if they even sent someone to investigate.”
The elevator finally arrived, the doors sliding open to reveal—
“Oh, shit. I was right,” Tony gasped.
A body was sprawled face down on the elevator floor, blood oozing from several wounds. Stab wounds, Tony thought, but he wasn’t about step into the elevator to investigate. He did reach in to press the Emergency Stopbutton. Then, kneeling at the edge of the doorway he, very gingerly, put his fingers on the wrist of the victim’s outstretched arm and couldn’t feel a pulse. “I think he’s dead,” he said shakily as he stood up. Taking out his phone, he dialed 911, vaguely aware the old man was already doing the same thing.
“I want to report an…an assault, or maybe a murder,” Tony said when the dispatcher answered, trying to keep his voice steady. He gave the woman the address as well as his name, and explained that the body was in the elevator. Then he hung up before she could ask anything more.
The man was still on his phone. He looked at Tony, saying, “They want to know your name.”
“I already…Never mind. It’s Tony Watkins.”
The man repeated the information, then a moment later hung up. “The problem with apartment buildings,” he said to Tony. “You never know names. I’m Alan Rose.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Rose. Well, as more than a face I see now and then.”
“It’s Alan, Tony. Forget the formalities. Under the circumstances…” He gestured at the elevator.
Tony winced, trying to keep from looking, but it was like trying not to look at a car wreck, only worse—much worse. At least I can’t tell who it is. True, since the man’s head was turned away from the door.
“Seems like you weren’t hearing things after all,” Alan remarked. “Though I’d say you picked the wrong floor to check out.”
“I was going to work my way up,” Tony admitted. “Not that it would have done any good I suppose. If someone else heard the…the cry for help, they didn’t do anything about it or the cops would be here already.” He sighed deeply. “Now I’m going to live with the fact that if I hadcalled them, maybe he’d still be alive.”
“Doubtful,” Alan replied, patting Tony’s shoulder. “I’d guess he was in the elevator when he cried out, meaning it was already too late.”
“Why didn’t anyone else hear him?”
“Is your place next to the elevator?”
“Yes. Oh.”
“Exactly,” Alan said.
“But so are other apartments.”
“It’s afternoon. Most people are still at work. And the laundry rooms are on the other side of the elevator on every floor.”
“Okay. That makes sense, I suppose.”
“Why are you…?” Alan stopped when the door to the emergency staircase opened and two uniformed police officers appeared. “That was fast,” he said under his breath.
