locked. Marilyn pushed a button, Aunt Sylvie came on the intercom, then pressed a buzzer that released the lock. A single elevator was heading up when we reached it, the indicator at four. It went to the top floor, the sixth, then made its slow way down to the ground floor. The shaky ride up made me wonder whether the cables were checked periodically, but I kept the thought to myself.
“Here we are,” Marilyn said as we stopped with a jolt on five.
Sylvie had the door open and she double-locked it behind us. She was even smaller than I remembered, barely five feet tall and nearly wafer-thin.
“Come in, girls,” she said in her high-pitched voice. “Take your coats off and make yourselves comfortable. Hello, Chris. I remember you from the seder.”
“It’s nice to see you again,” I said, realizing that I had no idea what her last name was, having forgotten to check the list of names Mel had given me. “This is a very nice apartment.”
“Two bedrooms and two bathrooms. I wouldn’t change it for the world, but the neighborhood’s not what it used to be. Crime, crime, crime. You can’t go out after dark anymore and there’s nowhere to shop.”
“How do you manage?”
“A few of us get together and take a taxi to the supermarket.”
“It’s nice you have friends here.”
“That’s all I have left, a few friends. Sit down. Not you, Marilyn. I’m not talking to this girl with you around.”
“That’s fine, Aunt Sylvie. I’ll just take the paper and sit in the bedroom.”
“There’s a TV in the big one in case you finish your paper. Go ahead. We won’t miss you.”
Marilyn took herself off to the bedroom, and Sylvie and I sat near the window in the living room. It looked out over the Concourse, lined with prewar apartment houses, trees, and people sitting on folding chairs.
“Marilyn told me you’re trying to find out who killed my sister.”
“I’m giving it a try,” I said, reluctant to commit myself at this early stage.
“How much do you know?”
“Just that she left the seder when she opened the door for Elijah, she took her coat and purse with her, and two days later they found her body.”
She lifted her hands and dropped them in her lap. “Already you have it wrong. Nobody remembers the way it happened. She didn’t go, she was taken. She didn’t wear her coat and she didn’t take her pocket-book.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know who took her. He was waiting for her. They all know, but they won’t tell you.”
I started to feel uncomfortable. This was a woman who lived by herself, which meant the family believed she was competent, but she sounded on the edge. “Will you tell me?” I asked.
“She had a friend, a man friend. I knew him. She used to come here with him. He was crazy about her, but he was a very jealous man. He was waiting for her that night at my brother’s apartment. When she opened the door, he grabbed her. That’s what happened.”
“Do you know this man’s name?”
“Harry. I don’t remember his last name anymore. She went with him for years. He had a lot of money and he was very good looking. They would have gotten married, but he had one of those wives that wouldn’t let him go. Iris only wanted him if she could marry him.”
“Did you tell the police about him after Iris died?”
“I’m sure I must have. It’s a long time ago. I can’t remember everything I said.”
“Did you remember his name back then?”
“Back then I remembered everything.”
“Sylvie, what would Harry have been jealous of?”
“Iris had a new friend.”
“She was going out with someone when she died?”
“I think so.”
“And Harry knew about it?”
“Of course he knew. If Iris was going out with another man, she couldn’t be going out with Harry, could she?”
It sounded pretty logical. “I guess not.”
“So he knew and he was jealous. He knew she’d be at my brother’s for the seder, and Harry didn’t live so far
“Here we are,” Marilyn said as we stopped with a jolt on five.
Sylvie had the door open and she double-locked it behind us. She was even smaller than I remembered, barely five feet tall and nearly wafer-thin.
“Come in, girls,” she said in her high-pitched voice. “Take your coats off and make yourselves comfortable. Hello, Chris. I remember you from the seder.”
“It’s nice to see you again,” I said, realizing that I had no idea what her last name was, having forgotten to check the list of names Mel had given me. “This is a very nice apartment.”
“Two bedrooms and two bathrooms. I wouldn’t change it for the world, but the neighborhood’s not what it used to be. Crime, crime, crime. You can’t go out after dark anymore and there’s nowhere to shop.”
“How do you manage?”
“A few of us get together and take a taxi to the supermarket.”
“It’s nice you have friends here.”
“That’s all I have left, a few friends. Sit down. Not you, Marilyn. I’m not talking to this girl with you around.”
“That’s fine, Aunt Sylvie. I’ll just take the paper and sit in the bedroom.”
“There’s a TV in the big one in case you finish your paper. Go ahead. We won’t miss you.”
Marilyn took herself off to the bedroom, and Sylvie and I sat near the window in the living room. It looked out over the Concourse, lined with prewar apartment houses, trees, and people sitting on folding chairs.
“Marilyn told me you’re trying to find out who killed my sister.”
“I’m giving it a try,” I said, reluctant to commit myself at this early stage.
“How much do you know?”
“Just that she left the seder when she opened the door for Elijah, she took her coat and purse with her, and two days later they found her body.”
She lifted her hands and dropped them in her lap. “Already you have it wrong. Nobody remembers the way it happened. She didn’t go, she was taken. She didn’t wear her coat and she didn’t take her pocket-book.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know who took her. He was waiting for her. They all know, but they won’t tell you.”
I started to feel uncomfortable. This was a woman who lived by herself, which meant the family believed she was competent, but she sounded on the edge. “Will you tell me?” I asked.
“She had a friend, a man friend. I knew him. She used to come here with him. He was crazy about her, but he was a very jealous man. He was waiting for her that night at my brother’s apartment. When she opened the door, he grabbed her. That’s what happened.”
“Do you know this man’s name?”
“Harry. I don’t remember his last name anymore. She went with him for years. He had a lot of money and he was very good looking. They would have gotten married, but he had one of those wives that wouldn’t let him go. Iris only wanted him if she could marry him.”
“Did you tell the police about him after Iris died?”
“I’m sure I must have. It’s a long time ago. I can’t remember everything I said.”
“Did you remember his name back then?”
“Back then I remembered everything.”
“Sylvie, what would Harry have been jealous of?”
“Iris had a new friend.”
“She was going out with someone when she died?”
“I think so.”
“And Harry knew about it?”
“Of course he knew. If Iris was going out with another man, she couldn’t be going out with Harry, could she?”
It sounded pretty logical. “I guess not.”
“So he knew and he was jealous. He knew she’d be at my brother’s for the seder, and Harry didn’t live so far
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