Page 46 of Gem Warfare

“I noticed. I’m not sure what kind of system this is.” I pulled out a couple of files, flipping through them. “Oh, now I get it. These files are for apartments. I think they all are.” I neatly inserted the files back, extracting a couple more, finding I wascorrect.

“These are for commercial buildings,” said Lily, scanning several sheets of paper.

“We need to find the cabinet for houses. Maybe single family units.”

I closed the cabinet, and moved onto the next one. “This is it,” I said, pleased to find the first two files I pulled were for duplexes. Near the middle of the files, I found the one I was looking for. I pulled it out and lay it open so we could both see.

“What are we looking at?” asked Lily.

“The sales particulars. Elsie Greenberg bought the house from the Weinbergs like my mom said. There’s an application from the Langs with some background information. Jobs, former addresses, credit checks, standard stuff. A photo of the family.” I ran my finger down the sheet. “Move in date. Move out date. Deposit marked as returned.” I turned the page. “Looks like it was rented out immediately to a Joe Smithson. He’s listed as a salesman but it doesn’t say what he was selling or his employer. Two former addresses. No credit check but he paid three months up front and took out a six-month lease. He renewed it for another three months.”

“It says here he didn’t pay the last month and left a bunch of stuff so they retained the deposit and no claim was ever made.” Lily pointed to a paragraph near the end of the page.

“The year fits. If he didn’t make that last month’s rent, perhaps he was already dead?”

“Someone made a note to blackball him for future rentals based on the non-payment and abandonment.”

“There’s something clipped to the form.” I turned the page, finding a receipt from a home clearance company. It listed removal of a small amount of furniture, clothing, a TV and personal possessions. “He didn’t pay the last month’s rent and left everything behind. That does sound like he wasn’t in aposition to claim anything.”

“AKA, dead and buried,” said Lily.

“It narrows down a timeline. I’m going to take pictures of this form. There’re addresses and phone numbers. They’re probably long out of date but I can check.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” said Lily.

“Agreed.” I snapped photos of each page of the registration paper, the receipt, and the rental contract, then I slipped all the paperwork back into the file and deposited it into the cabinet.

We headed back up the stairs and I reached for the handle, turning it. “It’s stuck,” I said, giving it a harder tug. Then another. No matter how I twisted it or how hard I pulled, it wouldn’t budge.

“Let me try,” said Lily, edging me out the way. She tugged and tugged, pulling a face. “It’s stuck.”

“Not stuck. Locked.” I pointed to the keyhole. “The door kept popping open when I shut it earlier. I bet someone decided to be extra safe and locked it without realizing we were down here.”

“What do we do now? Knock and holler?”

“Then we’ll have some explaining to do. There must be another way out. Let’s check. Hollering is the last option.” I headed back down the staircase, goosebumps popping out on my arms. It was very cool in the house and, with a dead Elsie Greenberg upstairs, I now understood the temperature was more than to simply combat the summer heat.

There was no outside door in the room we checked and neither was there in the furnace room or the unfinished part of the basement. I headed for the row of high windows reaching the ceiling but even on tiptoes, I couldn’t quite reach the catch. They were wide and not too shallow and I couldn’t see any locks, just a lift and push mechanism. “I think we can just fit through. We just need to be able to get up there,” I said, looking around for something to stand on. “Do you see a stepladder?”

“No. The rocking horse is the only thing big enough to stand on,” said Lily, looking from the window to the horse. “Where do the windows lead? I don’t remember seeing any at the front of the house.”

“I think either the backyard or the side. I’m a little disoriented. Let’s get the horse.” Lily and I tried to lift it but it was awkward and heavy so we wiggled it back and forth across the floor until it was under the window. “Hold it still,” I said as I climbed up, steadying myself so I could stand on the saddle.

“Ride ‘em, cowgirl,” said Lily.

I balanced, my arms stretched out. “I think a childhood dream just came true. I always wanted to be one of those flying acrobats on horseback.” I beamed, then the horse wobbled and I crouched again, grabbing a fistful of silky mane.

“How about you just stay upright and don’t do anything crazy.”

“Okay, but I look good, don’t I?” I rose again, wishing I’d done the core work that involved working my muscles for balance, and not just to employ them to keep the cake inside me.

“I’m imagining you in a sequined leotard and a plumed headdress,” said Lily. “I’m also imagining you looking out the window then trying the catch.”

“I was enjoying the moment,” I said but she had a point. “It looks like the side of the yard. There’s no patio. The window opens into a flower bed and I think I see a path.” I tried the catch. It was a little rusty and stiff but with another push, it opened wide. I grabbed hold of the edge and pulled myself up. I dug my hands into the dirt, clawing for purchase, then I felt hands under my heels as Lily gave me a hard shove. I popped through the window, my triceps screaming.

Pop. Pop.

Lily’s heels suddenly fired through the window and bopped me on the head.

---