The Planck Factor

Chapter 11

Jessica Evans

I felt the room spin at the sight of Fred's corpse. Seeing him dead was like a punch in the gut. From the sight of his pants, it was obvious the stench wasn't just from bodily deterioration. He'd emptied a full bladder and moved his bowels upon death.

The sewage smell was overbearing, so I stepped back outside, gulping the fresher air in the hallway. I shut the door behind me, but the foul odor lingered in my nostrils.

The door across from me opened, and I jumped. I gaped as an old woman came out. She had disconcertingly light blue eyes embedded in wrinkled flesh, topped with a shock of gray hair. Wrapped in a tattered pink robe, she jangled a set of keys in one palsied hand and held a tissue in the other.

"Are you all right?" Her voice sounded quivery and nasal.

"I . . . I'm okay." I wasn't ready to talk to anyone about Fred yet. Let alone a little old lady in a pink robe in a hallway where I didn't even want to be.

The old woman gave a vague nod, shuffled toward the steps, and descended them, keys jingling all the way.

I stared at the Fred's door and tried not to think of what was behind it. Fred had been acting peculiar, but hadn't struck me as suicidal and I hadn't seen a weapon. So why would someone kill Fred? What did Cynthia mean when she said it might have something to do with me?

I considered calling the police, but frankly, I didn't want to get involved. I could call in an anonymous tip from a phone booth. Assuming I could still find one. Could they trace the call, if I made it from my cell? Besides, the cops couldn't bring Fred back to life.

I felt dizzy. I backed away from the door, hands raised as if to ward off evil, my thoughts reeling. When did this happen? Who was the last to see him alive?

I followed the old woman downstairs and caught up to her near a row of mailboxes.

"I'm trying to find your neighbor, but he's not home. When was the last time you saw him? The young man living across from you?"

She blinked slowly, seeming to consider this. "I don't know. Sometime last week, I guess."

"Have you seen any strange people around here?"

She grunted a short laugh. "This town is full of strange people. And a few of them live here," she said, fumbling to insert the key in one of the mailboxes.

It was grasping for straws, but I had to ask. "Have you noticed a dark van hanging around the parking lot lately?"

She swiveled round to face me. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"Or two men in tan jumpsuits?"

She shook her head as she removed a fistful of mailers and catalogs from the box. I was leaving when I heard her say, "Unless you mean the delivery men?"

"Delivery men?"

"Sure. They wore tan jumpsuits. One of them had a clipboard. Figured it was to sign for deliveries. Thought they were bringing me a Snuggie I ordered weeks ago."

"An older man and another one with red hair?"

She smiled. "Yes, one of them was a redhead. I've always thought red hair looks strange on men."

"Thanks," I said, and turned to leave.

"Is something wrong?" she called after me.