Let Me In - Adam Nicholls (e book reader pdf .TXT) 📗

Across town, Morgan Young was also sitting in his vehicle with Detective Gary Lee at his side. They watched from afar as the police did their work, staying out of the way to avoid the captain’s wrath. The last thing they needed was additional pressure from that guy.

“They’re doing an okay job,” Morgan noted, watching the apartment building.

“You mean the police?” Gary said.

“Yes.”

“Not bad, yeah. Still, I’d rather have you solve it.”

Morgan laughed. “Because that’s nice and easy.”

“Hey, Carrie meant a lot to me, and I want to see Nick Hansen suffer for what he did to her. I know the MPD are more than capable of finding him, but they won’t let me in a room alone with him when they’re done. Besides, I feel more involved this way.”

His logic was weak, but Morgan understood. When the heart was involved, it was impossible to keep your head on straight. Many times over the years, Morgan had let his emotions get ahead of him. He remembered his own exam papers as he and Rachel were still exploring their feelings for one another. This was around the same time they were coming of a more sexual age, and there were plenty of distractions for a young man. Later, he caught up and managed to scrape in a good GPA, but just barely. As his teachers had put it, he had the gift, but he was giving it to someone else.

There was finally some movement across the street. The front door swung open and two officers strutted down the path with a detective in a nice suit trailing behind. Morgan waited until they were in their cars and out of sight before he reached for the handle. “Time to move.”

It appeared Gary didn’t need to be told twice—he was out of the car and taking over before Morgan even had a chance to lock the door. Morgan shook his head with disapproval, thinking that overeagerness would get him into trouble someday, then locked up and joined him in his ascension of the old, dusty staircase until they found the correct floor.

“This is it,” Gary said. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Morgan pounded on the door.

A tall man answered. He wore a stained white tank top and baggy pants. A long, wiry gray beard trailed down to his chest where it tangled with hairs of the same color. His eyes were muddy brown through thin slits. “What the hell do you want? I already spoke to the cops, and I got nothing more to say.”

“We are the cops,” Gary said, flashing his badge.

Morgan stayed silent. He didn’t want to be asked for his ID.

“Then I’ll tell you what I told them,” the old man said, turning his head only to spit onto the floor of his own hallway. He stood up straight and fed his thumbs into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “I don’t know nothin’. He comes here, he pays cash. I didn’t ask no questions, and he didn’t tell no lies. Far as I’m concerned, his business is his business.”

Morgan exchanged a confused look with Gary and took over. “Who?”

The old man—who was presumably the landlord of this building, if his previous comments were anything to go by—looked from one to the other, his mouth agape with confusion. “The young guy who made the call.”

“You didn’t make it?” Morgan asked.

“The call came from this address,” Gary chimed in.

“Well, it wasn’t me.” The landlord leaned out of his door, hanging from his grip on the doorframe. A foul vinegary stench leaned with him, and he pointed to a phone at the end of the hallway. “That there’s a shared phone. The bill’s included in the price. Whatever your man did, he did it without my knowing.”

Everything fell together for Morgan then, like the remaining pieces of a complicated jigsaw puzzle. It wasn’t this man who’d made the call at all; somebody else had called, which meant they’d pounded on the wrong door. Worse, they were wasting time.

“Sir,” Morgan cleared his throat, “can we talk to the man who called?”

“Could if he was here.”

“Where is he?” Gary asked.

“What do I look like, a fucking Google map?” The landlord leapt back into his doorway, slipping his frail, pale hand to his side with a little slap. “Look, the other cops can’t go in there without a warrant, which means you can’t go in either. ’Til then, leave me the hell alone to live my life in peace, goddammit.”

The walls shook with the force of the slammed door, leaving Morgan alone with Gary. He was starting to figure that the officers, and the detective who was with them, had left without finding their answers, which meant they still had a chance of catching up.

“What do you suppose we do?” Gary asked.

Morgan turned with him and studied the door that’d been at their backs. “Did you notice he kept looking at this apartment? I’m willing to bet the one who made the call lives here. What’s the harm in giving it a little knock?”

“I was thinking more of a kick.”

Morgan frowned at him. “You and illegalities don’t mix.”

“But you do.”

“No.” He shook his head in violent swipes. “I’m in enough trouble with your boss. Anyway, what do we even know about this guy? That he made a phone call to report a false location? That tells us absolutely nothing. Hell, it might not even be a he.”

“Landlord said it was a he.”

“Right, and what was it about that guy that told you to trust him?”

Gary sneered. “Okay, well, I’m not waiting.”

Before Morgan could stop him, he stomped toward the door and raised his foot, slamming his heel into the side of it. The lock buckled but didn’t bust. A quick second kick destroyed it completely, and the door swung open with a bang as it hit the wall, then groaned shut.

“What the hell?” Morgan said, grabbing him by the arm. As if they didn’t have enough trouble to contend with, renegade behavior wasn’t going to do them any favors. It got worse too; Morgan was angry at him for the first time in years. “You can’t do that.”

“I just did.”

“Well, congratulations, you just committed a crime.”

“It’s all right. If the captain says anything, I’ll just pin it all on you.” Gary straightened out his suit and gestured toward the door, his wry smile igniting Morgan’s anger further. “Are you coming in or not?”

What choice did he have?

The damage was done.