I LEFT THE STINKING ROOM and started to head down-stairs. I was in the hallway when Kaufmann appeared. He appeared to be wearing a hospital issue shirt, and his left arm was bound close to his body. He looked pale. And very angry.
“What are you doing here?”
I stayed calm. “I could ask you the same question.”
He actually bared his teeth. “I live here. This is my house.”
I managed a smile. “Of course. I just meant that I’m surprised you have been released from hospital so soon. How are you feeling?”
I didn’t give a toss as to how he was feeling, but it seemed a good diversionary move. He looked as if any minute he was going to grab me physically and throw me out.
He was not diverted.
“I will be better now I’m home.”
“Indeed. And how is your wife?”
“Never mind. I repeat question. What are you doing here?”
“I’m helping the police with the investigation into the attack.”
“You’re trespassing. Get out.”
I would have been only too happy to leave, but he was completely blocking the hall, and I didn’t know how I was going to get past him without one of us pushing the other out of the way. I thought he’d win that contest. Over Kaufmann’s shoulder I could see the constable, who was watching us. He looked worried. I called to him.
“Constable. Would you mind reassuring Mr. Kaufmann that I am working in conjunction with the police?”
He probably wasn’t completely sure about that, but it was obvious what state Kaufmann was in.
He said confidently, “I can vouch for this lady, sir.”
Bless him.
Reluctantly, and making his reluctance obvious, Kauf-mann stepped aside so that I could get by. The hallway was narrow, and I had to squeeze against the wall. He smelled vile: stale sweat, fear, some carbolic he’d been daubed with for his injury, and whisky. He’d stopped somewhere along the way to throw back quite a bit of whisky.
He favoured me with yet another snarl. “If I see you within two feet of this house again, I’m going to lodge a formal complaint. I’ll make sure you lose your licence. Assuming you even have a licence.”
“Oh, I do. As I said, I am officially helping the police with their enquiries.”
I couldn’t let him have the last word, could I?
I got outside.
Kaufmann moved to the door.
“Are you planning to stay?” he asked the constable.
“I will until I’m relieved, sir. We want to make sure you are safe.”
Kaufmann almost spat at him. “Safe? Of course, I’m sod-ding safe. I was taken by surprise before. It won’t happen again.” He came even closer. I was beside the constable, slightly behind him, and I could feel him tense. I did too. We might have been looking at a bear on the rampage. However, Kaufmann contented himself with slamming the door shut.
I think the constable and I both released the breaths we’d been holding.
“I’m sorry if I pulled you into something,” I said.
He grinned a little. “Nasty piece of work, isn’t he? You’d think he’d be glad to know the Toronto Police Force is looking out for him.”
He had a boyish face dusted with freckles. He’d been afraid of Kaufmann, but he hadn’t backed down. I felt like giving him a hug and telling him he had a good career ahead of him. Probably I was the one who needed a hug.
“I am going over to headquarters to report to Detective Murdoch. I’ll tell him what happened. I’ll make sure to tell him how well you handled the situation.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
I set off along Phoebe Street. No lights in the Kubay house, nor Mrs. Parker’s house. Didn’t mean they weren’t watching. Funny how some people can watch kindly and others maliciously.