Paige jumped in and grabbed Larry’s keys out of the ignition. Good intuition, Ella thought.
“Okay, one more time,” Ella said. “The truth will set you free.”
Larry swung his leg around in a vain attempt to collapse his attacker’s knees. None connected. “I didn’t do anything,” he screamed.
“I know that. You couldn’t fight your way out of a paper bag. I’ve seen babies kick harder than you.”
“So what do you want from me?” he cried.
“You’re hiding something. You’re being very suspicious and I want to know why.”
“Let me go and I’ll tell you. Everything. I promise.”
Ella checked Paige’s positioning. She pointed to the end of the driveway. Paige followed her instructions. Blocking off the main escape route meant Larry would have to escape over the garden fence should he be so bold.
She loosened her grip and Larry shook himself free.
“So?” she said.
Larry stepped a few paces back and then desperately checked every direction for onlookers. A man like this would die of embarrassment if his neighbors caught him being manhandled by a woman. He wiped some spit from his lips and chucked it on the pavement.
“Look, I didn’t kill anyone. I swear on my mom’s eyes.”
“And?”
“Cops,” he said. “I don’t want them in my business.”
Larry spoke the words with a more relaxed tone. Finally, the truth.
“Why?”
Larry scooped the sweaty mass off his forehead and flicked it away. “I own about forty apartments round here. It’s an expensive game. I cut a few corners, alright?”
“What kind of corners?” asked Ella. She wasn’t concerned with his criminal endeavors, providing they didn’t involve homicide, but there was a chance his negligence had benefited their unsub.
“The usual. Cheap doors, cheap locks, cheap manual laborers.”
“What’s so bad about that?” Ella asked. “The locks all work don’t they?”
Larry stayed quiet.
“Don’t they?” Ella asked again.
Larry bit his lip. “Well, yeah. The doors are fine. It’s just…”
“Just?”
Larry exhaled loudly and then checked his surroundings again. “There’s an attic. It’s supposed to be locked but I haven’t…. got around to fixing it yet.”
Of course. An attic. Teri Harper’s apartment had been on the top floor. In a lot of complexes, the attic ran the length of every apartment. Hers was the same back in D.C. The thought brought up a recent memory that chilled Ella’s bones, but she discarded the thought. There was no time for distractions.
“And that’s how the unsub got in.”
“The who?”
“Never mind that. What’s the deal with this attic?”
“It should be inaccessible but the lock is busted. Tenants aren’t allowed up there. One of the entrances is in 213, so it’s my responsibility to maintain it.”