Criminal

offered, “My mother was a teacher. Elementary school.”
    “That was my field as well,” Miss Lula answered. She took the cup and saucer Evelyn offered. Her hands were old, the knuckles swollen. There was a slight ash tone. She pursed her lips and blew on the tea to cool it.
    Evelyn served Deena next, then Amanda.
    “Thank you.” Amanda could feel the heat through the china, but she drank the scalding tea anyway, hoping the caffeine would help chase away the wine.
    She looked up at the photos of Kennedy facing King, again taking in the orderly apartment that Miss Lula called home.
    When Amanda had worked patrol, some of the men made a game of terrorizing these old people. They’d roll their cruisers up behind them in the street and purposefully backfire the car. Grocery bags were dropped. Hands flew into the air. Most of them would fall to the ground. The backfire sounded like a gunshot.
    “Now.” Deena had waited until they’d all had some tea. “Miss Lula, if you could tell these women what you told me?”
    The old woman cast down her eyes again. She was obviously troubled. “I heard a commotion in the back.”
    Amanda realized the woman’s apartment faced the rear of the complex. It was the same area where Jane Delray had been found three days ago.
    Miss Lula continued, “I peered out the window and saw the girl just lying there. She had obviously passed.” She shook her head. “Terrible sight. No matter their sins, no one deserves that.”
    Evelyn asked, “Was there anyone else back there?”
    “Not as far as I could tell.”
    “Do you know what the noise was? The one that made you look out the window?”
    “Perhaps it was the rear door banging open?” She didn’t seem sure, though she nodded as if that was the only explanation that made sense.
    Amanda asked, “Have you noticed anyone strange hanging around?”
    “No more so than usual. Most of these girls had evening visitors. They generally came in through the back door.”
    That would make sense. None of the men probably wanted to be seen. Amanda asked, “Did you recognize the girl you saw out back?”
    “She’s from the top floor. I don’t know her name. But I said from the beginning that they should not have been allowed to live here.”
    Deena supplied, “Because they’re prostitutes, not because they’re white.”
    Miss Lula said, “They were operating their business out of the apartment. That is contrary to the housing laws.”
    Evelyn put down her cup of tea. “Did you see any of their customers?”
    “Occasionally. As I said, they mostly used the back door. Especially the white men.”
    “They saw both white and black men?”
    “Frequently one after the other.”
    They were all silent as they considered the statement.
    Evelyn asked, “How many women were living up there?”
    “At first it was the young one. She said her name was Kitty. She seemed nice enough. She gave candy to some of the children, which was allowed until we realized what she was doing up there.”
    “And then?” Amanda asked.
    “And then another woman moved in. This was at least a year and a half ago, mind you. The second girl was white, too. Looked very similar to Kitty. I never got her name. Her visitors were not as discreet.”
    “Is that the woman you saw through your window tonight? Kitty?”
    “No, a third one. I’ve not seen Kitty in a while. Nor have I seen the second one in some time. These girls are very transitory.” She paused, then added, “Lord help them. It’s a difficult path they’ve chosen.”
    Amanda remembered the licenses she’d tucked into her purse. She unzipped her bag and pulled them out. “Do you recognize any of these girls?”
    The old woman took the licenses. Her reading glasses were neatly folded on the side table, resting atop a well-read Bible. They all watched as she unfolded the glasses, slid them onto her face. Carefully, Miss Lula studied each license, giving each girl her undivided attention. “This one,” she said, holding out the license for Kathryn Treadwell. “This is Kitty, but I assume you know that by her name.”
    Amanda said, “We’ve been led to believe that Kitty was renting out the space to other girls.”
    “Yes, that would make sense.”
    “Did you ever talk to her?”
    “Once. She seemed to think very highly of herself. Apparently, her father is very politically connected.”
    “She said that to you?” Evelyn asked. “Kitty told you who her father was?”
    “Not in so many