A shudder went through him. He said nothing. I had no idea if he'd heed my warning. He might try to, but his cravings might prove too powerful for him to resist for long.

That wasn't my concern. I was after a killer, not a Peeping Tom. I left him sitting in his mother's chair in her frozen-in-time room. On the way out, I grabbed his camera. I tossed it into a garbage bin on the street. Let him buy another. This one was tainted.

18

I had knocked on just over two-thirds of the doors on Lunz Street, but after visiting Manny Orrin, I couldn't bring myself to knock on a single one more. I had been climbing stairs and knocking on doors and talking to neighbors for over two hours, and I wanted to get off my feet. In addition, I was clutching a stack of photographs in my hand, and it was uncomfortable to walk around with it.

Ten seconds after tossing Manny Orrin's camera in the trash, while I was briskly walking west in the direction of Rothschild Boulevard, where I planned to grab a bite and a cold drink, I heard a lilting female voice that was five levels too cheery for my mood.

"Yoo-hoo, young man. Yoo-hoo."

It took me a second or two to realize it was addressing me. I turned and tilted my head back to see where the voice was coming from.

"Over here. Yoo-hoo."

She was standing on a second-floor balcony in the building I had just walked past, waving a large straw hat to catch my attention. A chubby middle-aged woman, a little on the short side, gray-haired and round-faced, flashing a smile as big as a house.

"Leaving so soon?"

I frowned in bemusement. I didn't know this woman and was sure we'd never met before.

"Don't go just yet. I’ve got some rugelach and lemonade here for you. Come on up."

I hesitated. A moment ago I couldn't wait to get out of Lunz Street, but the urgency had been replaced by curiosity. It wasn't every day that I got called up by total strangers to partake of rugelach and lemonade. Especially not when I was hungry and thirsty.

"Coming up," I called back to her.

She stuck her straw hat on her head and clapped once in merriment, like a girl fifty years younger.

"Wise decision. Apartment four." Then she vanished from sight, presumably to open the door for me.