Chapter 18 – Violent Boyfriend
“Are you here about the condo?”
One eye peered out at us across a solid-looking
Door-chain. My voice was raw from unsuccessfully
interviewing all the other tenants about Mirabel
So Derek swept forward.
“Didn’t Mirabel Marshott live here?”
The eye rolled, then closed.
“Who wants to know?”
“I’m her sister,” I said helplessly.
Another bust I had assumed –
But maybe my breaking voice produced
Some good; next sound a gasp followed by
Unlocking. “You’re the answer to a prayer,”
Says the girl. Crazy! “Come in. Hurry.”
Reaching out an arm to yank us safe inside.
We were in a tiny 20th floor apartment
Upper East Side –
I’m telling you, SMALL – entirely empty. There was
A highly-polished floor and a fantastic view
Of other people’s balconies and terraces.
“Her stuff’s in the storage bin,” said the girl.
“We have to make this fast.”
She was a tiny Filipina with literally POUNDS of
Makeup. Any age between twenty and eighty.
Artily dressed – expensively – I surmised –
In flowing hand-painted chiffon. Checked her Rolex;
Opened her Day Planner, plucked out a sticky note,
wrote BACK IN 5 MINS and slapped it on the door.
She pulled us outside and carefully locked all three locks.
“We don’t want them finding out about Mirabel,”
She hissed – frog-marched us to elevators.
Derek and I were both too stunned to speak.
I, me of the short game, found words first.
“Who’s them?” I asked.
“Oh, you know,” she whispered, punching the button
“The killers. The guy who confessed couldn’t
Possibly have done it. They’re still out there.”
Derek was the first to speak
At this new revelation.
“Mirabel stayed here but nobody knew?”
“Right,” said our hostess, seemingly irritated
By the elevator’s balky slowness.
“She slept in the broom closet. It doesn’t have windows!
Six kinds of illegal.
I mean, she wasn’t actually home that often.
Probably used it as a mail drop – or
Stayed with boyfriends while avoiding
Other boyfriends. You know how it goes.”
She looked me up and down as if realizing
Far too late –
That I could not possibly know
“How it goes.” “I heard your dad
Was strict.” She pursed her lips.
I wanted to defend my dad –
But cared too much what Derek thought.
Elevator arrived. We rushed inside.
“She was there that night?” prompted Derek.
“When the – killing – happened?”
“MAYBE,” breathed our Latinx, so excited to be a
Bad news bear she vibrated physically.
“Her friends were stabbed to death
In their beds. – Franny and Jane.
The killers – nor the cops – knew she was
There. Mirabel took off –who wouldn’t?
Now we have to sell the place –
I’m Dominica – Jane’s sister.”
Uncomfortably long elevator ride
Down, down, down –
Seemingly to hell but
Actually the basement. Jane said,
“You know, you look like her. Here we are.”
A bump along the basement floor.
“Mirabel kept her stuff in bins.
Here, you’ll need one of these.”
She slid a trolley at us.
I gathered courage.“Did you know Lord Verne?”
“He was a customer – we heard plenty –
She called him
Violent and threatening. But
Wasn’t he in Europe?”
“5106, 5107 – here we are.”
She unlocked a storage unit. Three boxes stood piled
In the center of the floor. Marked MM.
Our helper watched us load them.
“Thank God you’re getting these out of here –
We didn’t know how to contact her.
I’ve got to get back. There’s
Going to be an auction.”
“In a place where murders happened?”
I was agog. She nodded fiercely.
“That’s New York. It’s the
Cheapest unit in a
Well-placed building.
Your exit is that way.”
We both stared at her clattering heels
And departing back.
“Well,” said Derek, “That’s plenty to chew on.”
We summoned Uber and beat retreat.
Alysse Aallyn 
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