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If Benny was down in the alley below the apartment and was dead, one of two things had happened: Somehow, she’d died outside
in that alley, or she’d fallen out her window. That back area was hard to reach—it only seemed accessible from the basement
door, which had an alarm, and a series of locked gates.
There was also no noise of a bird coming from inside Benny’s. Murph was not in there. And the police seemed interested in
Benny’s apartment.
Conclusion: Benny had gone out the window.
Stevie felt her nervous system fire up, sending a bolt of clarity and a surge of nausea. Benny. The filthy and funny animal
lover, owner of the party clown door, was dead. And if her theory was correct, Murph was not in that apartment. It was a place
to start. She walked down the hall toward the officers who were conferring in Benny’s doorway. As Stevie got closer, they
blocked her progress.
“Can I ask what happened?” Stevie said, keeping her voice as meek as possible.
“One of your neighbors has had an accident,” he said. “Just go back to your apartment, okay? We’re going to be coming around.”
“Is there a bird in there? A big white one? A cockatoo? I can’t hear him. He’s really loud. If you were in there with him,
he’d be screaming. Is he okay?”
This information interested them. One of the officers called to someone inside the apartment. A man in a blue suit with a
head like a bullet came to the door.
“Why are you asking about the bird?” he said.
“Because he’s not making any noise,” Stevie said. “And you’re in Benny’s apartment, and someone said Benny’s outside . . .”
Lance and Mitzi opened their door to join the conversation.
“It’s not her bird,” Mitzi said. “It was Helen’s bird. Helen had a heart attack a week ago and died and Bernadette took the
bird.”
They went around a few times, the police asking in different ways about Helen and her heart attack and how Murphy came to
be in Benny’s apartment.
“So she wasn’t used to having this bird in here?”
“No,” Mitzi said. “She got him last week. She must have left the window open and the bird flew out. My God. I’d almost say I was thankful, for the bird.”
“How do you know the window is open?” the man asked.
“I can feel the air coming through,” Mitzi said sharply.
She was correct. Even though the door was only partially open, there was an arctic breeze coming through the open passage
between the window and the hall.
“Someone on the fourth floor says there’s a strange bird outside their window,” the man said. “A big white one.”
“I know how to get him inside,” Stevie said quickly. “I just need to go into Helen’s and get his carrier.”
This was decided to be an acceptable course of action. One of the officers had been given the master keys, so Helen’s door
was easily opened. Stevie went to the spare room and got the pet carrier, then found a can of pineapple chunks in the cabinet
and put some on a plate.
She followed the officer down to the fourth floor on the elevator. They went to 4E, where a younger couple, dressed in sweats
and T-shirts, looked fresh from waking up on the first day of the new year to a bright, normal day—their Christmas tree and
opened boxes compacted into the corner of the living room, which was strewn with toys. There was a little boy in pajamas at
the window excitedly calling to Murph, who was now perched on a fire escape rail on the building opposite this one in the
alley. On the windowsill, there was a colorful bird feeder made of glued-together pieces of balsa wood, covered in hearts.
“Orion made it at school,” the woman explained. “He likes birds. He learned the name of every bird playing a game. He’s obsessed
with them. Just now he yelled to tell us there was a cockatoo on the feeder.”
“Cockatoos are pets,” Orion said. “They live a long time. It’s cold. Look. It’s cold.”
Murph did look cold. His wings were tight against his body and he had fluffed himself up a bit. He wasn’t making any noise. Stevie moved to the window and extended the plate.
“Come on, Murph! Pineapple! Come on!”
She decided to try a few familiar words.
“Asshole! Love you!”
The two parents cocked their heads. Then came a quiet reply.
asshole
love you
Murph sounded forlorn. He flew up a level, fluttered his wings, made some chittering noises, then flew over to the top of
the bird feeder. Stevie lifted the plate up gently so he could get a good look at the pineapple, then drew it slowly inward.
Murph hopped down to the sill, then bopped inside.
“Can we have him?” Orion asked.
“He has a home,” his mother said.
Did he? It was a good question. Murph didn’t really have a home now. He ate the pineapple in nervous bursts. Stevie guided
the plate over to the carrier, and Murph got in. He looked exhausted and frightened.
Now that she had Murph, she wasn’t exactly sure what to do with him.
His cage was in Benny’s apartment, and there was no way they were letting her go in there.
And it wasn’t like she could bring him to their apartment and say to Nate, “I know you have to finish your book or you will die, and Vi’s sick and two people are dead, so I brought you this really loud bird. ”
No. There was a better place to go.
Margo opened the door, wide-eyed with shock, wearing a coordinated workout outfit in forest green.
Stevie. The angel of death. Carrying a bird.
“He needs somewhere to go,” Stevie said. “I know Luna likes him.”
“Can you take him to your apartment?” Margo asked quietly. “It’s just . . . it’s very loud and I have to make content.”
“My friend is . . . allergic to birds. Really allergic. It’s just for a few hours while they figure things out. There’s also
a snake . . .”
“Let me,” Luna said, emerging from her room with red-rimmed eyes. “Let me take care of Murph.”
She was wearing a stretched-out gray T-shirt and shorts. Without makeup, she looked so much younger. She had clearly been
crying for some time and had run out of tears for the moment, leaving her eyes swollen.
Andy, who watched this from the sofa as he worked on his laptop, tilted his head, indicating they should let this happen.
“We should let her take care of the bird,” he said quietly.
Margo wavered for a moment, fingering her bracelet and looking at her ring light setup with concern, then she nodded.
“You can take care of the bird,” she said. “Just for a little while, okay? Until he gets a new home. Not forever, all right?”
“And someone needs to take care of Cleo,” Luna added.
“Cleo?”
“Her snake.”
“No snake!” Margo said.
“She’s harmless,” Luna replied. “She lives in a tank.”
Andy and Margo conferred. Cleo would stay where she was and they could make arrangements to feed her. Murph was a different
story. They discussed procuring a birdcage, the cost, whether or not they should get one because the bird wasn’t staying.
Luna took Murphy into her room, holding his carrier like it was a lantern in the darkness.
“I’m just going to talk to her,” Stevie said in a low voice. “Make sure she’s okay.”
Andy nodded and Margo mouthed thank you.
Once they were in her room, Luna closed the door, closed the window even though it was only open a few inches, and opened
the carrier. Murph didn’t move for a moment. He finally perched on the edge of the carrier, looking out at his new surroundings.
Ass, he said, sounding confused.
“I know you’re upset,” Stevie said, “but I need to know something. It’s important. How did you know there was a gurney in
the lobby? How have you known when people have been coming or going?”
“I saw from the window,” Luna said, not very convincingly.
“I was here the other day, with you, in this room. You never looked out the window, but you knew Benny was coming up. And
you kept looking at your laptop. How do you know?”
Luna sighed and reached for her computer.
“Okay, so, a few months ago I kind of thought my dad was cheating on my mom . . .”
She said it very casually as she clicked.
“. . . I don’t think he was, but one time I was stuck waiting in the lobby while my parents pulled the car around, and I asked
for the Wi-Fi password to download, then I saw all these things connected to it, like the security system. So I watched some
videos on how to access that stuff.”
She turned her computer around. There, on the screen, were folders marked OUTSIDE DOOR, OUTSIDE ALLEY, LOBBY , LOBBY , ELEVATOR,
BASEMENT, BACK ALLEY . . . It went on, listing the fire stairs for every floor. Luna clicked LOBBY and a long list of dates
appeared, along with an icon for LIVE FEED.
“This place is so bad at this,” Luna said. “My mom says they’re cheap. Nothing was secure. All I needed was the router password.
I got it by asking if I could go in the office for a minute to change my shirt instead of going back upstairs. It was taped
to the wall.”
Stevie watched the silent feed as a cop stood by the desk speaking on his phone.
“If Al was down there, he’d tell us what was going on,” Luna said. “But that’s Maria.”
“I need access to this. Message me the passwords and how to get on.”
“She fell,” Luna said. “Because of Murph? Was this . . .”
“I just need to see for myself who was coming in and out, okay?”
Luna messaged her the information. It was time for Stevie to go.
“Thanks for coming to talk to Luna,” Margo said as Stevie left. “She needs friends like you. It’s so nice of you. I hope you
didn’t mind.”
She said it in a way that clearly suggested that she regarded people being nice to Luna as a kind of charity.
Thank you for talking to my weird kid who likes watching funeral directors.
Stevie knew the tone and that look. Her parents used it.
This is our creepy daughter who only talks about murder.
We’re trying to get her into clothes and aggressive heterosexuality
so thank you for your patience. She felt instantly defensive of Luna.
“She’s great,” Stevie said. “It’s not a problem. I like her.”
Margo cocked her head and gave a pleasant do you? smile.