After Midnight

I chugged my way up the driveway.

That’s it! The audio tape on Serena and Charlie’s answering machine!

How could I possibly have forgotten about that? It had Tony’s message on it, all that stuff he was trying to tell Judy.

The dead man’s voice on a tape in Serena’s home.

My God, how could a detail like that slip my mind?

At the top of the driveway, I hurried over to the sidewalk. Once more, I’d made it away from the parking lot undetected. Plus, I’d erased the mileage from the tripometer and I’d remembered the lost detail—the message tape.

Simple enough to get rid of that.

I added it to my mental list of things to do at home.

Erase it right away, tonight, as soon as you get back. Bring in the saber, then erase the tape. Maybe destroy it entirely, just to be sure. Burn it.

Leaving Tony’s apartment building behind me, I walked to the corner of the block. There was no traffic in sight. I jogged across the street, then slowed to a long, easy stride.

Pace yourself, I thought. It’s more than seven miles. That’s a pretty good hike.

Should take less than two hours, though.

What if Tony taped the call?

I felt a flutter deep inside.

If he did…

He didn’t, I told myself. Nobody does that.

Most people don’t, anyway. It would be a very strange, abnormal thing to do. Illegal, too, unless you tell the other person about it.

But if he did record it, he’s got my address on tape. My voice and my name, too. The minute the cops search his room, they’ll find out everything.

BUT PEOPLE DON’T TAPE THEIR CALLS!

Of course they don’t. And only a fool would return to Tony’s in order to destroy a tape that doesn’t even exist.

But might.

I’d have to actually go inside the building, break into his room…

I’ve got his keys.

But the risk! For nothing! For a tape that doesn’t exist.

I continued walking, determined not to go back for the non-existent tape.

And I wouldn’t have gone back, either.

I would’ve kept on walking home, but all of a sudden, from thinking about tapes and answering machines and telephones, something popped into my mind that made my insides go cold and squirmy.

Redial.

10

THE THIRD KEY

SHIT!

I had to go back again.

Almost nobody tapes their own telephone conversations, but damn near everyone has a redial button.

After our talk, Tony’d had no time to make another call. He’d probably dropped everything, grabbed his gun, rushed out to his car and sped over to guard me.

So a touch of the redial button on his phone would place a call to Serena’s phone.

Unless the cops were very stupid or careless, they’d pay me a visit within hours of finding Tony’s body.

I had to take care of the redial.

I turned around and headed back.

This is crazy!

But what choice did I have?

When you kill someone, you’ve got to clean up afterward. Not just the body and gore, but the rest of the pieces, too. Tripometers, telephone messages, redials, the whole nine yards.

It sucks big.

If you don’t take care of every detail, you go down.

Not me.

When I was about to cross the last intersection before Tony’s building, a car turned onto the road a block to my right. I lurched backward fast, heart slamming. Before the car even got close, I found a good place to hide behind a clump of bushes. I crouched there, gasping for breath, sweat pouring down my face and trickling down the nape of my neck. Tony’s shirt clung to my back and sides. The seat of his jeans felt damp against my butt.

Waiting for the car to pass, I picked up the front of the shirt and wiped my face.

And wished I were back home so I could jump into the swimming pool.

That suddenly made me picture the prowler in it, drifting on his back, and how the moonlight glinted on his body.

His gorgeous body.

Stop that! I told myself. He’s a disgusting pervert! And this is all his fault. If he hadn’t come along, Tony would still be alive. I wouldn’t be here in the bushes, hot and miserable and hiding like a criminal. And I wouldn’t need to break into Tony’s apartment in the middle of the night.

The car passed me and kept on going.

I stayed hidden for a while.

Cars have rearview mirrors.

When it was out of sight, I stood up, plucked the clinging clothes away from my skin, and returned to the street corner.

I stared at Tony’s building.

Talk about pressing your luck.

I felt like running away.

But the details had to be taken care of, or I’d be sunk.

I started to cross the street.

What’ll I do when I’m inside?

1. Find Tony’s telephones. (Remember, he might have more than one.)

2. Make a few random calls on any phones I find to make absolutely sure redial won’t give away Serena’s number. (Also, if the cops manage to check Tony’s phone records, there’ll be calls originating from his place after the one to Serena. That should help.)

3. Check around to make sure there’s no tape recording of his call. If there is, take it. But there won’t be.

4. How about leaving his wallet and keys in his room? That way…

No, I’d better keep them. No telling where my fingerprints might be. And what if I should need his keys again, later on? Keep that stuff and get rid of it later.

Anything else while I’m in his room?

Just be careful about fingerprints and stuff.

And don’t get caught.

What if he has a roommate?

That idea gave me a scare, but only for a few seconds. Tony was twenty-eight years old. Apparently, he’d just moved into the new place because of Judy. He’d loved her so badly. They’d spent so much time together at his old place that he just couldn’t stand to be there without her.