Dino turned to Stone. “Are you
armed?”
Stone produced his 7.65mm automatic.
Dino whipped out his cell phone and called for backup. “Let’s go,” he said.
They walked quietly up the stairs and found apartment 3D. Dino put his ear to the door. “TV is on,” he whispered.
They took up positions on either side of the door.
Dino knocked firmly. “Hello?” he said, imitating the super’s accent. “It’s the super here.”
Nothing.
Stone listened to the door but heard nothing but the TV.
Dino knocked again, this time louder. No reply. He inserted the key in the lock and turned it as quietly as he could. As the door opened, the TV got louder. “Hello?” he called. “It’s the super here; I’ve got the plumber with me to check the plumbing.”
No reply.
Dino nodded at Stone and, as they had done a hundred times before, they went in, guns out ahead of them. They went from room to room, which didn’t take long, since there were only three of them.
“We’ve got two different shoe sizes here,” Stone called from the bedroom, “and a lot of empty hangers in the closet.”
Dino came into the bedroom. “What else?”
“Top drawer of the dresser is empty and open.”
“You think the other guy ran?”
They walked back into the living room, just as the TV station cut to the news desk.
“We’ve got more on that arrest on Third Avenue this afternoon,” the newscaster said. “Let’s go back to the scene and Maria Jones.”
The station cut to a young woman with a microphone, standing outside a dry cleaner’s. “Thanks, Bob. I’ve been able to confirm with the shop owner that the man who was arrested outside this dry cleaner’s shop earlier today is a dead ringer for a drawing that the police ran in Sunday’s New York Times. He is apparently connected with a Herbert Mitteldorfer, an ex-convict being sought by police for questioning in at least five murders and the bombing of an art gallery last week. I’m going over to the precinct now and talk with the police. Back to you, Bob.”
“Well, if that was the second report, I guess our guy saw the first one and lit out.”
“And the first thing he would have done is call Mitteldorfer,” Dino said.
Stone looked around. “There’s no phone here.”
“Shit,” Dino said.
They could hear cops pounding up the stairs. Andy Anderson was the first through the door.
“Andy, tape this place off, then get a team in here and turn it over very carefully. There was a second occupant besides Erwin Hausman; look for anything that could tell us who the other guy is, and anything that might tell us where to find Mitteldorfer.”
“Yes, sit,” Andy replied.
“Anything from Hamburg, yet?”
“No, sir, and nothing from Interpol, either.”
“Keep on them,” Dino said.
“Dino,” Stone said, “we need to talk. In the car.”