Seven Minutes to Noon

with the death of Lauren Barnet and the disappearance of her full-term, unborn baby. The two men are also under investigation in connection with the disappearance two years ago of Christine Craddock, who was also pregnant. Ms. Craddock vanished on her baby’s due date. Both Ms. Barnet and Ms. Craddock were Metro Properties tenants who, at the time of their disappearances, were fighting Metro’s efforts to evict them from rent-stabilized apartments in the Carroll Gardens–Cobble Hill area. In addition, sources report that police have questioned Mr. Pollack and Mr. Cattaneo about the recent attack on Pam Short, a Brooklyn realtor who may have uncovered information about Metro Properties that put her at risk. Ms. Short remains in a coma at Long Island College Hospital.
    According to the police, previous suspects, including Ms. Barnet’s husband, Tim Barnet, and Ms. Craddock’s boyfriend, David Jonstone, are no longer considered lead suspects. When the three cases appeared to be connected, it was necessary to broaden the search.
    In an investigation rampant with theories ranging from a lone serial killer to a real estate conspiracy to a black market for babies, there appears to be a growing sense of puzzlement.
    “It’s starting to seem obvious someone out there is playing with us,” said Detective Francesca Viola of the Seventy-sixth Precinct. “We’re looking at all the common denominators, and right now they’retwo pregnant women who went missing, their landlord Metro Properties, and a real estate broker who may have been onto something.”
    Alice read the article through two more times. There was still no mention of Andre Capa; Frannie and Giometti were holding tight on to that piece of information. But why ? For a moment Alice was tempted, again, to contact the reporter herself, fill in a few blanks. But as before, she decided against it. She had promised Frannie not to tell.
    As if the brief temptation to betrayal had summoning powers, the phone began to ring. Caller ID announced the Seventy-sixth Precinct. Alice reached to pick up the phone when something else became clear to her.
    She remembered where she had seen Sal Cattaneo before: it had been just half an hour ago, in Judy Gersten’s apartment, in the eight-by-ten frame on the pretty table. Standing by Judy’s side with the complicity of a husband or partner or lifelong friend.
    And then Alice remembered where else she had seen the smiling man in Judy’s photo; suddenly she knew exactly who he was.

Chapter 27
    The dear friend of Judy Gersten and partner of Julius Pollack was also the local butcher. In Alice’s mind she saw the blue awning over his Court Street shop announcing CATTANEO & SON in white script. Only there never seemed to be a son. And now, there were at least three Sal Cattaneos. The one she knew was always so nice and friendly, but what about the other two?
    She picked up the phone, hoping to catch Frannie’s call before she finished her message. A long dial tone told her it was too late.
    She pressed the down arrow on her caller ID to recall Frannie’s number and was just dialing it into the phone when she heard the first crash.
    Someone was standing outside her door, pounding it with tremendous force.
    “You!” Julius shrieked. “You fucking bitch, open the door or I’ll break it down!”
    “Stop it, Julius!” Alice screamed back.
    She brought the phone with her through the kitchen to the garden door, just in case she needed to escape, though once she was out there, she didn’t know where she could possibly go; she’d be trapped. He slammed the door again and again. The wood vibrated, then seemed to bend inward.
    “Stop it! I’m calling the police!”
    The moment she said it, the banging stopped. It was suddenly as if he wasn’t even there.
    “Seventy-sixth Precinct,” the receptionist answered.
    “Fran Viola, please. Tell her it’s Alice Halpern.”
    She waited. The kitchen seemed to fill with quiet. She began to feel dizzy and realized she was hardly breathing. She took a deep breath, then another, listening to Julius’s heavy footsteps plodding up the stairs.
    “Alice,” Frannie said.
    Alice quickly explained what had just happened.
    “Where are you now?” Frannie asked.
    “In the kitchen.”
    “Is he still outside?”
    “He just went upstairs.”
    “Stay where you are. Don’t answer the door and don’t even answer the phone. We’ll be there in two minutes.”
    Time stretched long and thin as