It feels like hours but must only be several minutes before a police car pulls up in front of Leo’s back door and two officers get out. They try the door. It’s open. What a surprise. I wait for them to go in, wait another set of indeterminable minutes to see if they’ve scared anyone out, and then finally when I see only one of the officers strolling leisurely back to the car from the opposite end of the alley, having just made a block, I realize that all of us were too late. Whoever was up there is long gone. Must have gone out the front, swept away with the tide of nine-to-fivers just getting off work.

They know about Leo’s apartment but weren’t able to find me there. No matter, the man with the phone already saw me at the office.

“The back door was open, but the lock on my apartment door was forced,” Leo says to me, when I call him to give an update.

“Was anything taken?”

“No. The cops think it might have been a crime of opportunity. Some degenerate found the back door open and, as you know, my apartment is the first unit at the top of the stairs.”

“Did you tell them about the man watching the office?”

“Yes, but it’s an alley off Hastings Street. All sorts of shady characters hang out in that area. They implied that maybe PI work is getting to me, that I’m jumping at shadows. I never understood why you hated cops so much, Nora, but after dealing with this mess, I’m rethinking my position.”

“It can’t be a coincidence. Someone at the office and the apartment like that.”

“I agree. I’m assuming this is about you? They’re ramping up their surveillance?”

“It’s not safe to go back to the apartment, Leo. For me or you. Is there someone you can stay with?”

“Yes. What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” I say.

I get a text from Stephanie Kwan saying she remembers something and to meet her at the house as soon as possible. What she has to say can’t be shared over the phone. The message is paranoid, but then again, so am I. I’m stuck in North Van traffic for far too long, and when I finally get there, I drive right past the house and park a few houses down.

Bright lights are flashing in my rearview mirror as an ambulance speeds away.

I get out of the car and run to the house.

There’s a police officer blocking my way. “Please stay back, ma’am.”

“What happened?” I ask.

The officer ignores me and goes to the porch while I remain out on the street. A neighbor in a flannel onesie wanders over. “Do you live in this neighborhood?” she asks.

“No, but I know Stephanie. What happened?”