T is for Trespass

“Not at all. What can I do for you?”

“My name is Peggy Klein. I think the two of us are looking for the same woman.”

“Cristina Tasinato?”

“When I knew her she was using the name Athena Melanagras, but the address on her driver’s license is this one.” She held out the license and I found myself looking at Solana Rojas, who now had one more alias to add to her string.

“Where did you get this?”

“We had a knock-down, drag-out fight at Robinson’s earlier today. I was going out the side door as she was coming in. She was wearing glasses and her hair was different, but I knew her right away. She worked for my grandmother toward the end of her life when she needed full-time care. After Gram died, my mother discovered she’d forged Gram’s signature on thousands of dollars’ worth of checks.”

“She knew you’d recognized her?”

“Oh sure. She spotted me about the same time I spotted her, and you should have seen her take off. She made it as far as the escalator before I caught up with her.”

“You went after her?”

“I did. I know it was dumb, but I couldn’t help myself. She dragged me all over the place, but I wouldn’t let go. I was doing all right until she punched me. She whacked me with her purse and kicked the shit out of me, but I grabbed her wallet in the process and that’s what brought me out here.”

“I hope you filed a police report.”

“Trust me. There’s already a warrant out for her arrest.”

“Good for you.”

“There’s more. Gram’s doctor told us she died of congestive heart failure, but the pathologist who did the autopsy said asphyxiation and heart failure share some of the same features-pulmonary edema and congestion and what he called petechial hemorrhages. He said someone put a pillow over her face and smothered her to death. Guess who?”

“Solana killed her?”

“Yes, and the police suspect she’d probably done it before. Old people die every day and nobody thinks a thing about it. The police did what they could, but by then she was gone. Or so we thought. We just assumed she’d left town, but here she is again. How stupid could she be?”

“Greedy’s a better word. She’s all over the poor old guy who lives next door to me and she’s sucking him dry. I’ve tried to put a stop to her, but I’m operating at a disadvantage. She has a restraining order out against me so if I even look at her cross-eyed, she’ll have me in jail.”

“Well, you better find a way around it. Killing my Gram was the last thing she did before she disappeared.”

33

I had Peggy Klein follow me home in her car, which she parked in the alley behind Henry’s garage. I found parking on the street in front, six cars away from Solana’s. I went through the gate and around the side of the studio. Peggy was waiting by the gap in the back fence, which I held aside for her as she slipped through. Henry had a real gate, but it was unusable because both his gate and the fence were weighted down with morning glories. I said, “Great timing, your showing up at Solana’s apartment complex when you did.”

“When I showed Norman and Princess the driver’s license, they knew exactly what was going on.”

Peggy followed me to Henry’s back door, and when he came to let me in I did the introductions.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“We’re going to get Gus out of there. I’ll let her fill you in while I whip over to my place and pick up a few tools.”

I left the two of them to sort themselves out. I unlocked my door and went up the spiral stairs. For the second time in two days, I cleared the top of my footlocker and opened the lid. I took out my fanny pack. I found the flashlight and checked the batteries, which were strong, and I tucked it in my pack along with a set of key picks in a nifty leather case given to me by a burglar of my acquaintance some years before. I was also the proud possessor of a battery-operated pick gun, given to me by another dear friend who was currently in jail and therefore had no need for such specialized equipment. In the interest of virtue, I hadn’t done any serious breaking and entering for some time, but this was a special occasion, and I hoped my skills weren’t too rusty to do the job. I snapped the fanny pack around my waist and returned to Henry’s in time to catch the back end of Peggy’s tale. Henry and I exchanged a look. We both sensed we’d have one chance to rescue Gus. If we didn’t pull it off, then Gus might well end up like Gram.

Henry said, “Oh, boy. You’re taking a hell of a risk.”