The Dollhouse by Fiona Davis Page B

condo, loitering was discouraged, so they withdrew to the fourth floor.”
    â€œWhat about Darby McLaughlin; did you know her back then?”
    Stella paused for a moment, then seemed to choose her words carefully. “She was an odd duck at first. We had an uneasy beginning, but we eventually reached a kind of detente. Darby went to Gibbs, then worked as a secretary for the same company for years and years until she retired.” The radiator began to clank. “Oh, dear God, I keep telling the super to come up and turn the damn thing off already, but he’s too busy kowtowing to the rich tenants. Don’t be offended.”
    â€œNo, not at all. What kind of company did Miss McLaughlin work for?”
    â€œSome button shop on West Thirty-Eighth Street. Only retired five or six years ago, old goose.”
    The clanking continued. “Do you want me to turn the heat off?”
    â€œNo, it involves taking all the plants off the windowsill and lifting up that shelf they sit on. It’s the least he can do, for the little I ask of him.”
    â€œIt must be strange to see the building change so drastically.”
    â€œEverything changes. I couldn’t care less. I have my little slice of New York City and that’s enough for me.”
    â€œYou said you were good friends with Miss McLaughlin?”
    â€œI didn’t say that. But we help each other out, now and again. I’m taking care of Bird while she’s away.”
    The news surprised Rose. “Where did she go?”
    â€œGod knows. This morning she seemed upset, asked me to watch Bird while she’s gone for a while, and that was that. Said she had some business to take care of. Whatever that means. What kind of business can an eighty-one-year-old woman have? Said she’d be back in three weeks.”
    Rose’s hopes fell. Tyler wouldn’t be happy. “Does she often go on trips?”
    â€œRarely. Can’t think of the last time she left town. Like I said, she was in a hurry. You said you talked to her?”
    â€œYes, we were going to set up a time to speak further. Were you here when she had the accident?”
    â€œHow did you hear about that?”
    â€œOne of the doormen. He was very respectful,” she added quickly.
    â€œPatrick. Biggest gossip in the building.” Her voice became quiet, eerie. “I can’t help you out there. Darby’s private. She doesn’t talk much about it.”
    â€œDo you remember the name of the maid who died?”
    Stella let out a low whistle. “Can’t forget her. She was a wiseass. Esme. Esme Castillo was her full name. After it happened, it was all the girls could talk about for weeks. The hotel kept the scandal quiet, never even hit the papers.” She stared at Rose through narrowed eyelids. “Is that what you want to write about?”
    â€œNo, not if she’s uncomfortable. I would like to talk to her, though, about other things. Do you think you might explain what I’m doing the next time you see her?”
    â€œYou seem like a nice enough gal. I’ll see what I can do, but you shouldn’t hold your breath. Darby’s probably the last of the old-timers you’ll get to open up. After the accident, she closed herself off. Like a curtain coming down at the end of a play.”
    Rose left her business card with Stella and took the stairs up one flight. On one hand, Miss McLaughlin’s sudden exodus put her story into a tailspin. On the other, Stella’s story would make an epic profile and might keep Tyler at bay until she returned.
    Exhausted, she passed out on the couch until the ringing of her cell phone woke her up out of a heavy, black sleep. She hurried to it, hoping maybe it was Griff. Instead, Stella’s voice crackled across the line.
    â€œI need your help.”
    â€œSure, Stella, what can I do for you?”
    â€œGet my apartment key from Patrick and take Darby’s