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bad when even the mere thought of blood made my stomach clench.
    “Then what, exactly?” Inspector Lee asked, tapping the toe of her shoe against the wood floor.
    I turned. “I just poked my head inside for a second or two.”
    “Yeah, sometimes that’s all it takes,” she said philosophically. “Guess you got an eyeful.”
    “Guess I did.”
    With an evil chuckle, Inspector Lee turned from me to Derek. “Since you’ve been inside, we’ll need a print of your shoes for comparison. Probably be a good idea if you took them off right now.”
    “Certainly,” he said.
    She caught the eye of one of the cops and jerked her chin up. That was all it took for the officer to hurry downstairs to the squad car. He was back in less than a minute with an evidence envelope large enough to carry Derek’s shoes.
    Finally, Lee turned to Robin. I was pleased to hear her use a gentler tone than she had with me or Derek as she said, “It’s Robin, right? We’ve met a few times.”
    “Yes, hi.” Robin stood unsteadily and shook her hand. She tried to smile but it was a shaky effort. “I’m glad you’re here.”
    “This your place?”
    “Yes.”
    “Okay, good. So what’s going to happen is, as soon as my partner arrives, he and I will go inside to look around. In the meantime, I’d like to get some preliminary information from you. I understand you’ve been through a bad time, so we’ll take it slow.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Now, I assume that since the commander and your good friend Ms. Wainwright are here, you called them first and they came over to keep you company.”
    “No, I . . .” She glanced at Derek and me, and I noticed she looked as though she might fall over any second now. Lee seemed to notice the same thing.
    “Let’s sit,” the inspector said as she maneuvered Robin down onto the director’s chair.
    I watched Robin more carefully. I’d never seen my friend so wiped out before. It wasn’t just shock or grief. Her eyes were unfocused and she seemed unstable whenever she was standing. I was beginning to wonder if maybe she’d taken a sleeping pill or something. Was that why she’d slept through Alex’s death? But as Inspector Lee questioned her, she seemed to rally and was able to repeat the same story that she’d told us earlier, going into even greater detail than before.
    As Robin finished, her upstairs neighbor Sharon, still wearing pajamas and a plaid bathrobe, opened her front door. She glanced around, her forehead lined with concern, until she spied Robin. “What’s going on out here?”
    “Oh, Sharon, I’m sorry we disturbed you,” Robin said. “There’s been a . . . an accident in my apartment. The police are here to look into it.”
    “An accident?” Sharon said, taking a step out onto the porch. “Are you all right?”
    Robin waved her back as if she didn’t want her neighbor to get too close. “I’m okay.”
    “Good morning, ma’am,” Inspector Lee said, standing up and pulling a business card from her pocket. “You live upstairs?”
    “Yes.”
    She handed Sharon the card. “We’ll need to ask you some questions in a little while. Will you be home all day today?”
    “Yes, I’m off on Sundays.” She stared down at the card, then back at Lee. “You’re a homicide detective?”
    “Yes,” Lee said. Before she could say anything else, she spied Inspector Jaglom strolling down the sidewalk.
    “Nate,” Lee called, and waved. “Up here.”
    He glanced up, saw me and Derek, and his eyebrows rose in mild disbelief. “What’s all this?”
    I was grateful Inspector Lee didn’t shout something pithy like, If it’s Wainwright, it’s murder! Just because that little declaration was becoming uncomfortably true didn’t mean I wanted to hear the police stating it as fact. I wouldn’t be surprised to see them printing it up on bumper stickers one of these days.
    As Jaglom walked toward Robin’s building, Lee turned to finish her conversation with Sharon. “As soon as