When I saw her lying there in bed I thought she was dead,” Grace whispered. “She was so still. So pale. Barely breathing. Hardly any pulse.”
She stood with Julius and the doorman in the hallway outside Millicent’s apartment and watched the medics wedge the gurney into the elevator. Several residents from nearby apartments had gathered to witness the solemn process. Millicent was unconscious. There was an oxygen mask on her face.
“I heard one of the medics talking to someone at Harborview,” the doorman said quietly. “Something about the situation looking like a deliberate overdose. Man, I would never have guessed she was the type.”
There were several murmurs of agreement from the handful of other residents.
Grace shook her head and folded her arms. “I would never have thought so, either. I can’t believe it.”
Julius looked at the doorman. “How well did you know Miss Chartwell?”
The doorman shrugged. “She was one of the nicer tenants. Friendly. Tipped well. But we didn’t have what you would call a personal relationship.”
The muffled wail of the ambulance siren rose and then fell in the street outside the building. The small crowd in the hallway broke up as people drifted back to their own apartments.
“I’d better call my boss,” the doorman said. He took out his phone. “Sure hope he doesn’t get mad.”
“For heaven’s sake,” Grace said, “you just helped rescue Millicent. If she survives it will be because you performed a safety check or whatever it was you called it.”
The doorman perked up a little at that and moved a few feet away to talk on his phone.
The thirty-something woman who had emerged from the apartment next to Millicent’s shook her head. “I wonder if she was depressed because of that man she brought home last night.”
Grace turned quickly. “What man?”
“I don’t know who he was but I’m guessing he was married from the way he acted. They came in around nine or so. He wasn’t the first hookup she dragged home from a bar but I could tell by the way she laughed that the guy was different. She seemed really excited, as if he was special.”
Julius glanced back into the apartment. “What time did he leave?”
“I don’t know. It must have been around ten-thirty because I was getting ready for bed. He didn’t stay gone for long, though.”
Grace frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I think I heard someone out in the hallway later. The door opened and closed. I assumed it was the same man. But maybe it was one of her previous hookups. Who knows?”
“How long did the second visitor stay?” Julius asked.
“I don’t know,” the woman said. “I fell asleep.”
“Is there anyone on duty at the door station at night?” Julius asked.
“No, just days,” the woman said.
“So she had to buzz in the second visitor,” Julius said. “She knew who it was.”
“Sure,” the woman said, a shrug in her voice. “But like I told you, she was always bringing guys home.”
Grace went to the doorway of the apartment. From where she stood she could see the empty martini glass on the table. She had to know, she thought. She had to be sure.
“I think I left my cell phone in Millicent’s bedroom,” she said in a voice pitched loud enough to be overheard by the two or three people who were still hanging around in the corridor. “I’m going to get it. I’ll be right back.”
Julius gave her a sharp glance. “I’ll come with you.”
She moved into the apartment and turned to look at him.
“What?” she asked quietly.
“I didn’t see any sign of a personal computer,” he said. “Never met a numbers person who didn’t have one.”
“Yes, of course, Millicent had a computer.”
“I’m going to take another look around.”
He disappeared into the bedroom.
She headed for the small kitchen, dread whispering through her.
She had not imagined it. The liquor bottle stood on the counter. She had caught a glimpse of it earlier when she rushed past on her way to Millicent’s bedroom but she had not had time to take a closer look. Now she could see it clearly. She had been right about the label. A cold sensation washed through her.
“Damn,” she said softly.
Julius came up behind her.
She felt him go very still when he saw the bottle.
“The same brand of vodka that the stalker left in your refrigerator,” he said. His voice was grim.
“The same brand that I found in Sprague’s bedroom.” She gestured toward the bottle on the counter. “Millicent drinks vodka martinis but that isn’t her favorite brand. Whoever is stalking me tried to murder Millicent last night.”