Chapter 71 Chapter two

I can hear him moving around while I'm shaving, but of course I can't hear him when I'm in the shower.He was gone when I got out of the bathroom.I tiptoed to him and looked into the kitchen, but he wasn't there either.I pulled a bathrobe on and looked into the hall, which was also empty.There was only one milkman, walking down the back stairs with a metal tray full of milk bottles, and a freshly folded newspaper by the closed door. "Hey, did a guy come out of here and pass you just now?" I asked the milkman aloud. He stood in the corner, turned his head, and opened his mouth to answer.He has delicate features, neat teeth, white and big.I remember his teeth very well, because I was looking at the big white teeth when I heard the gunshot.

The gunshots came from somewhere not far away, at the back of the apartment building, next to the garage, or in the alley, I thought.Two quick and violent shots were followed by the sound of machine guns being reloaded.Suddenly there were five or six more, exactly what a good machine gun should be.Then, a car roared away. The milkman closed his mouth that seemed to be sealed by a winch, opened his eyes wide and empty, and stared at me blankly, then carefully placed the milk bottle in his hand on the top step and leaned on it wall. "It sounded like a gunshot," he said. Everything happened in a few seconds, but it seemed like half an hour.I went back to my lodgings, put on my clothes, grabbed some odds and ends from the office, and rushed down the hall.The hall was still empty, not even the milkman.The siren fell silent somewhere nearby, and downstairs a hungover bald man was lying with his head out the door, snoring.I went down the back stairs.

Two or three people were whispering, and I came out from behind.There are two rows of garages facing each other, with a concrete open space in the middle, and two rows of garages at the end, leaving an open space leading to a small alley.A few kids were climbing over the fence three houses away from here. Larry Bazel was lying face down on the ground, his hat dropped a yard from his head, one hand outstretched, and a step away lay a large black pistol on the ground.His ankles were crossed as if he were spinning and falling.There was a big pool of blood running down one side of his face, and it stained his blond hair, mostly on his neck.The concrete floor was also stained with blood.

Two cops with walkie-talkies, the milkman, and a man in a brown sweater and collarless jacket were bending over to watch Larry.The man in the coat is our gatekeeper. I walked towards them, and the two children who had just been on the other side of the fence also reached the yard.The driver of the milk truck looked at me sullenly, with strange eyes.One of the policemen straightened up and said, "Do any of you know him? He still has at least half a face." He wasn't asking questions about me, the driver of the milk truck shook his head and kept squinting at me from the corner of his eye.The gatekeeper said, "He's not a lodger here, he might be a visitor. But it's a little early for a visit, isn't it?"

"He was still wearing a party dress. You are more familiar with your hotel than I am." The policeman spoke heavily, and then took out a notepad. The other policeman also straightened up, shook his head, and walked toward the house, the doorman trotting beside him. The cop with the pad in his hand shook his thumbs at me and snapped, "After those two, you're the first one here. Do you have anything to say?" I looked at the milkman.Larry Bazel wouldn't notice him, men needed money to support their families, and it wasn't a police patrol car after all. "I just ran over when I heard the gunshots," I said.

The policeman thought I had answered his question, and the driver of the milk truck looked up at the gray sky and remained silent. After a while, I went back to my apartment and got dressed.When I picked up my hat from the table by the window, I saw a tiny rosebud lying quietly on a piece of paper scrawled next to the whiskey bottle. The note read: "You are a good man, but I think I'd better go alone. Give this rose to Mona-Larry if I get the chance." I put these in my purse, had a glass of wine, and pulled myself together.