“She don’t live here anymore.”
“But she did.”
“Yep. Uh-huh. I gotta go tag.”
“Wait a minute. Did she live by herself?”
“I guess. She slept a lot. She used to yell out the window for us to stop all that noise ’cause people are trying to sleep. But my ma said that was just too bad ’cause it’s the middle of the day and kids get to play loud as they want outside.”
“Who’s your ma?”
“She’s Becky Robbins and my pa’s Jake. I’m Chip. We live on the fourth floor, and I’ve got a turtle named Butch. You wanna see?”
“Is your mother home?”
“Course she’s home. Where else? Ma!”
He shouted, loud and high-pitched so Eve’s ears rang.
“Jesus, kid.”
“You shouldn’t oughta say ‘Jesus.’ You should say ‘Jeez it.’ ”
“You really think zzz makes a difference?”
“Ma says so. Ma!”
“Christ!”
“Nuh-uh.” Gap-toothed Chip shook his head. “ ‘Cripes’ is okay, though.”
“Chip Robbins, how many times have I told you not to yell out for me unless you’re being stabbed with a pitchfork?”
The woman who stuck her head out the window had her son’s curly dark hair and an aggrieved scowl.
“But Ma, the police want to talk to you. See?” He grabbed Eve’s hand, waved it with his.
Eve took hers back, resisted wiping off whatever sticky substance his had transferred. She held up her badge. “Can we come up, Mrs. Robbins?”
“What’s this about? My boy’s a pain in the behind, but he’s good as gold.”
“It’s about a former neighbor. If we could come up—”
“I’ll come down.”
“Ma doesn’t like to let people she don’t know in the house when my pa’s not home. He’s working late.”
“Okay.”
“He drives an airtram, and Ma works at my school. I’m in second grade.”
“Good for you.” Eve looked to Roarke for help, but he just smiled at her.
“Are you gonna arrest a robber?”
“Know any?”
“My friend Everet stoled a candy bar from the store, but his ma found out and made him go pay for it out of his ’lowance, and he couldn’t have candy or nothing for a whole month. You could arrest him. He’s over there.”