I nod. But I don’t get in.
“Well, come aboard, son! I’ve had a long trip, and I am ready to be home.”
I step into the elevator.
“Where to?” he says. His hand is hovering in front of the buttons.
Wait a minute. This can’t be Mr. X. Mr. X doesn’t talk. Relief rushes at me. I exhale.
“Uh—four,” I croak.
“Four! Same as me.”
Unless Safer was wrong about Mr. X not talking.
“Well, me and the Koffers. But you must know that, if that’s where you’re headed. I thought they were away until June. Maybe their trip was cut short too.”
I try to think like a spy. “Oh yeah, they’re away. I’m feeding their cat.”
“Cat?” He looks confused. “Since when do the Koffers have a cat?”
“I mean, plants. I’m feeding their plants. I fed somebody’s cat last week.”
We get to four. It doesn’t take long for the elevator to go exactly one floor up. He holds the door open for me. “So you’re a businessman, huh? Maybe you could feed my dog sometime. I’ve got a dog walker already, but I could probably find some work for you.” He smiles. He kind of reminds me of a friendly fisherman from a commercial for frozen fish sticks.
“You have a dog?” I ask stupidly.
“Yup. She’s been away, though, like me. I get a lot of travel this time of year, so I lent her to my cousin out on Long Island. His kids are crazy about her.”
Something is off. I realize that something is off, but mainly I’m worried about Safer. I can’t let this man walk in and find Safer going through his stuff.
I’m standing there without any idea what to do next. What do you do to distract a potential killer who seems like one of the nicest guys in the world? I remind myself that in movies the bad guys are always pretending to be good guys. That way when they suddenly act evil, it’s extra-scary. Extra-scary makes good movies. But I have no desire to experience it in real life.
He’s getting his keys out. I stand in front of the Koffers’ door. Whoever they are.
He’s watching me. “Everything okay over there?” He’s got his door open and he’s pushing his suitcase in ahead of him. I’m imagining Safer somewhere inside, having the realization that Mr. X has come home. That he’s trapped in there.
“Um, no,” I say. “I—forgot the key. I’ll have to go home and get it.” I’m listening hard for Safer. What is he thinking right now? Will he come running out of the apartment? Will he hide under the bed? Whatever he’s doing, I figure I must be buying him some time, at least.
“Oh, don’t bother,” Mr. X says. “I have a set of their keys inside. Wait right here.”
“No,” I call after him, “it’s okay. Anyway, I have this, um, plant food downstairs. Special plant food. I forgot that, too.”
He smiles. “Plant food? Is this for that little spider plant they have in the kitchen? I never realized they were so serious about that thing.”
“Um, it’s sick. It’s got a disease. I have the medicine and stuff. For it.”
“Oh.” Now he’s just staring at me, and it’s obvious he thinks I’m weird, like he’s not so sure he wants me feeding his dog after all.
Safer’s had plenty of time to hide by now. He hasn’t made a run for the door, so I figure he must be planning to wait until Mr. X goes into the bathroom or something, and then he’ll come out from under the bed and make his escape. I might as well let him get on with it.
“So, bye!” I say.
And I run back downstairs.
The phone is ringing when I fling my door open. I’m sweating and my head is pounding.
“Hello?”
“Hey, we must have gotten cut off.” It’s Safer. “You still on the cam?”
“Safer, are you okay? Where are you?”
“At you-know-who’s. I’m right by the front door, ready to leave. Just checking in for the all-clear.”
“For the all clear? Safer, are you still—upstairs? At Mr. X’s?”
“Yup, ready to go when you say when. You won’t believe what I found, Georges. I have a lot to tell you.”
And that’s when I figure it out.
It’s like Sir Ott—all those little dots coming together to make a picture.
“Just a second, Safer. I think one of the Koffers is coming in. You better sit tight for a minute.”
“Really? Okay. I’ll wait for your word.”
“Don’t move.” I put the phone receiver down very gently on the kitchen counter, and then I run up to Safer’s apartment.
I don’t ring the bell. I knock, very quietly.
Candy answers the door. “What’s wrong with the bell?”
“Nothing. Is Safer here?”
“Of course,” she says. “Safer is always here.” And she lets the door swing open. I rush past her and down the hall to the living room. Quietly.
His back is to me. He’s standing at the window in his socks, holding Pigeon’s cell phone up to his ear with one hand. In his other hand are the binoculars. He’s looking through the window. At the parrots.
“Georges?” I hear him say into the phone, “I’m ready to make my move. All clear?”
“All clear,” I say loudly. “Make your move, Safer.”
Safer spins around. There’s a look on his face that I’ve never seen before.
“You’re a liar,” I say. “You lied about everything.”
Safer says nothing, just keeps giving me that look and standing there with the binoculars in one hand and Pigeon’s cell phone in the other.
“You never left your apartment,” I say. “You never went anywhere.”
“I couldn’t go anywhere this time,” Safer says. “Mom asked me to babysit.”
“There is no Mr. X. He’s just some guy whose dog you walk, right? He’s been away this whole week. You’ve been lying to me since the day I met you. What was the point, Safer? Just your sick sense of humor? Was it that much fun to watch me get all worked up about nothing?”
He shakes his head. “Of course not. It was a game, Georges.”
“I’m sick of games! I’m so, so sick of games, and all the stupid—”
“Why are you so upset? This is what friends do, Georges.”
“Friends? You tricked me. That’s what friends do? You give me the creeps, you know that?”
Safer doesn’t say anything. What he does is turn back to the window and hold up his binoculars.
“I’m getting out of here,” I say. And I stomp down the hallway.
Candy sticks her head out of her room. “What’s going on?”
I slam their front door.