T Is for Trespass

talked to him Saturday, he gave no indication he was planning to leave. Of course, he’d just gone out and scored a couple of cardboard boxes, but it didn’t occur to me he’d be using them to pack .”

    Thirty minutes later I found myself at the residence hotel for the umpty-ninth time. This round, I caught Mrs. Von coming out of the kitchen with a cup of tea in hand. She wore a sweater over her housedress, and I could see a peek of the tissue she’d tucked up her sleeve. “You again,” she said, but with no particular animosity.
    “I’m afraid so. Do you have a minute?”
    “If it’s in reference to Mr. Downs, I have all the time you want. He left without giving notice so that does it for me. This is my afternoon off so if you’d care to come into my apartment, we can talk.”
    “Happy to,” I said.
    “Would you like a cup of tea?”
    “No, thanks.”
    She opened a door at the rear of the office. “This was originally the servants’ quarters,” she remarked as she went in.
    I trailed behind her, taking in the rooms at a glance.
    “In my grandparents’ day, servants were expected to be invisible unless they were hard at work. This was their parlor and the anteroom where they took all their meals. The cook prepared food for them, but nothing like the meals that were served in the formal dining room. The servants’ bedrooms were in the attic, above the third floor.”
    She was using the two rooms as a bedroom and sitting room, both done in pinks and mauves, with a surfeit of family photographs in silver-plated frames. Four Siamese cats lounged on the furniture, barely stirring from their morning naps. Two regarded me with interest, and one eventually got up, stretched, and crossed the room to take a little sniff of my hand.
    “Don’t mind them. They’re my girls,” she said. “Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy. I’m Marmee,” she said. She took a seat on the sofa, setting her teacup to one side. “I assume your interest in Mr. Downs has to do with the lawsuit.”
    “Exactly. You have any guesses about where he went? He must have family somewhere.”
    “He has a daughter in town. I don’t know her married name, but I’m not sure it matters. The two are estranged and they have been for years. I don’t know the details, except that she refuses to let him see his grandsons.”
    “Sounds meanspirited,” I said.
    “I wouldn’t know. He only mentioned her the once. Naturally my ears pricked up.”
    “Did you ever notice the tattoo on his right hand?”
    “I did, though he seemed so self-conscious about it I tried not to look. What did you make of it?”
    “I suspect he’d been in prison.”
    “I wondered about that myself. I will say in the time he lived here, his behavior was exemplary. As far as I was concerned, as long as he kept his room neat and paid his rent on time, I saw no reason to pry. Most people have secrets.”
    “So if you knew he’d been convicted of a crime, it wouldn’t have precluded your taking him as a tenant.”
    “That’s what I said.”
    “You know what kind of work he did?”
    She thought about that briefly and then shook her head. “Nothing that required a degree. He said more than once how much he regretted not finishing high school. Wednesday nights, when he came in late, I thought he was attending night school. ‘Adult education,’ I believe they call it these days.”
    “When he first showed up looking for a room, did he fill out an application?”
    “He did, but after three years, I destroy them. I have enough paper cluttering my life. Truth is, I’m mighty careful about my tenants. If I’d thought he was a man of low character, I’d have turned him down, whether he’d been in prison or no. As I recall, he listed no personal references, which struck me as odd. On the other hand, he was clean and well spoken, clearly intelligent. He was also gentle by nature, and I never heard him swear.”
    “I guess if he had something to hide, he’d be too smart to put it on an application.”
    “That’d be my guess as well.”
    “I understand he was chummy with a guy on the second floor. You mind if I talk to him?”
    “Talk to anyone you like. If Mr. Downs had been honorable about giving notice, I’d have kept my observations to myself.” She paused to look at her watch. “Now unless you need something more, I’d best get on with my day.”
    “What’s the name of the gentleman in room number five?”
    “Mr. Waibel. Vernon.”
    “Is he