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knocked on her door, a large, barrel-chested man wearing a tee shirt and a pair of dirty khakis answered. He squinted at Shannon’s badge and when Shannon told him what he was there for, the man’s face turned a deep red.
           “God damn it,” he swore, “we never should have let him move in here.” He turned away from the officers and bellowed, “Wendy, your pervert brother’s been at it again!”
           A large woman with a strong physical resemblance to John Roper came to the door and the barrel-chested man left. She stood silently, her eyes darting suspiciously at the two officers.
           “Are you Wendy Soretti?” Shannon asked.
           “What of it?” the woman answered, her lips barely moving. Shannon couldn’t help noticing her skin color was way too pale. The stark whiteness of her skin made the black moles along her face grotesque.
           “We’d like to ask you a few questions about your brother.”
           She said something that Shannon couldn’t quite pick up and he asked her if she could repeat it. She said she wanted to see his badge, her lips again not visibly moving. Shannon showed her his badge. DiGrazia asked her if she ever worked as a ventriloquist. In response, she glared at him.
           “We’re hoping you could tell us where your brother was last night,” Shannon said, pulling her glare away from DiGrazia. “According to John, he worked late last night and came home around eight. Then you, him, and your husband went out together for Chinese food and didn’t get home until eleven. Is that true?”
           She stared bug-eyed at Shannon for a long moment and then told him that’s exactly what happened.
           “Your brother was having a tough time remembering the name of the place you went to. Could you help us with that?”
           “May Ting’s on Route One in Saugus.”
           “You’re lying,” DiGrazia said.
           “No, I’m not.”
           “Your brother didn’t tell us he went with you for Chinese food,” Shannon said.
           Wendy Soretti blinked at them stupidly.
           “Anyway, you answered whether there’s any point trying to talk to you,” Shannon continued. “There’s no point, is there? And you don’t know where your brother was last night.”
           “I do, too.”
           Shannon gave DiGrazia a questioning look. DiGrazia said, “She don’t know shit.”
           “He was wherever he said he was,” she said in a low whisper.
           “And where was that?” Shannon asked.
           She blinked a few more times before repeating, “Wherever he said he was.”
           “You’re not helping your brother any,” DiGrazia said.
           “It would help him if you’d let us look in his apartment,” Shannon suggested.
           She stared blankly at both officers. “Not without a warrant,” she said after a long moment.
           “That’s not going to help John.”
           She shook her head stubbornly. “You’re not coming in without a warrant.”
           “I’ll get one then,” Shannon said. “My partner will be outside the apartment entrance with a flashlight. If he sees you or anyone else tampering with anything inside he’ll break down the door and arrest you for tampering with evidence. By the way, do you have any children?”
           “I don’t have to answer that,” she said, her voice tinny, barely audible.
           “I thought I heard a girl’s voice from inside.”
           “That’s my daughter—”
           “How can you have him live here when you’ve got children?”
           Her eyes shrunk as she stared at Shannon. “He’s family,” she said stubbornly. “And it’s none of your business.” Then she closed the door on him.
           DiGrazia let out a low whistle. “What a piece of work. Were you serious about