I climb the stairs to the second floor and walk to the end of the hall to Ms. Finding’s apartment.
Turning to the other closed doors behind me, I begin to wonder if anyone had seen anything from behind their peepholes when the two victims died.
I pull the key out from my pocket and slide it into the door slot, turning it and waiting for it to click before I grip the cold handle and swing the door open.
My arrival interrupts somebody already inside the apartment, and I reach for my gun in my holster, hearing movement coming from somewhere in the curtain-drawn room, blocking out the morning light.
I yell, “Police,” then hear shuffling and a door sliding open. I race into the dark apartment, running my hand over the wall for a light switch. “Police! Stay where you are.”
A long shadow fal
