CHAPTER THIRTEENThe old elevator creaked and wobbled its way upward. As it approached the sixth floor Sokolov jabbed Lindsey in the ribs. “Okay, cowboy, who had keys to the nest?”
“I don’t know. Zissler. Me. Were there keys on Berry’s body?”
“Yep. They’re evidence now.”
“That’s all I know of,” Lindsey said. “But the landlord must have one, and—who else, I couldn’t even guess.”
They stood outside Lindsey’s door. Sokolov put her ear to the wood panel, then shook her head.
She motioned Lindsey and the uniform out of the way, set herself against the wall beside the door, and knocked. “Police. Open up. Police!”
No response.
She gestured to Lindsey. Made a hand motion that said, clearly as words, give me the keys. With her other hand she drew the revolver from her holster.
He managed to
