Page 73 of The New Couple in 5B

But first, I’m going to see what I can get out of George. And with Abi away, I’m going to talk my way into that surveillance room.

twenty-one

“So,” I say to George in the elevator. “Abi never finished our tour.”

“Your tour, miss?” George is less polished than Abi, stocky where Abi is tall and elegant. His uniform pants do not have Abi’s careful crease. There’s a fray at the gold edging on his cuff. A tattoo peeks up from his collar.

“The new resident’s tour,” I say. “We started in the basement. But then I had some work to do, so he never finished.” The darkness of that event still lingers. I think of the boy’s pale face, in the basement, in my foyer. It tugs at my heart.

“Well,” he says with a nod. “Abi should be back tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll be happy to finish anytime it’s convenient.”

“He said he was going to show me the office behind the doorman’s station.”

We arrive on the ground floor and it’s a bit jerky. He doesn’t seem to be as skilled and comfortable with the elevator as Abi. He has to make some adjustments so that the elevator is aligned with the threshold.

“Mind if I just take a quick peek?”

“That door is locked, miss.”

“You don’t have a key?”

“No, Abi didn’t leave one. Mr. Aldridge was looking to get in there, as well, to look for a package, he said. But I couldn’t help him.”

“Did you look around?” I ask. “Maybe there’s a spare.”

“I did. There isn’t.”

I stare at the door behind the doorman station. “Don’t you need to get in there?”

“Not really,” he says. “I’m just manning the door until eight tonight. I can deliver packages as they come in. And I’ll lock the street door when I leave. Residents can use the service elevator tonight. Visitors can ring the intercom. And Abi will be back in the morning.”

“What about the surveillance?”

His face goes a little tight, like I’m annoying him with all my questions. “Like I said, miss, the door is locked. Abi will be back in the morning, and he can answer all your questions then.”

Why was Charles trying to get into Abi’s office? I wonder.

“Can you do me a favor, George? Will you leave a message for Mr. Young? Ask him to call me.”

I take a notecard from the small pile on the doorman’s desk and scribble down my number.

“Of course,” he says, seeming relieved to be able to say yes to one of my requests.

It’s astrology night tonight and Ella has already texted twice to remind me, saying that I could bring an appetizer if I wanted. I’ll go after all, start asking some questions. Maybe Xavier will be there.

Or maybe after George leaves at eight, I’ll come down and see if I can’t find a key. There’s also that second mystery key on my ring. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and it will fit in that lock.

George opens the front door for me. “Do you need a cab, miss?”

“No, thanks, George. Have a good day.”

I feel his eyes on me as I head to the subway.

The train rocks and clatters its way out to Borough Hall, and by the time I emerge into daylight in Brooklyn Heights, I am feeling nauseated.

I think it’s too soon for all that and maybe it’s my imagination, but it comes in unpleasant waves. I push through it and hustle up the street, air chilly, sidewalks crowded, until I get to Max’s place on Schermerhorn Street, a townhouse converted to apartments. He’s on the third floor. I do have a key from our days as neighbors, but I ring the buzzer instead, standing on the pretty stoop. Someone has taken care with potted trees, and the door is varnished with ornate knobs and frosted glass panes.

“Just leave it inside the first door,” says Max over the intercom, the outer door unlocking with a buzz.

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