Now it was my turn to grind the wheels. Stuck-up, with a british accent. An upper east ender? In the back of my mind I knew I had dealt with that kind of person before. But how? Where? I couldn’t let this clue slip away. I needed more.
I stepped toward the super. ‘Name. Give me a name.’
He backed away. If anybody had been there it probably would have looked weird. Here I was, the top of my head barely at the middle of his chest and he was the one intimidated. Again, an echo in my mind hinted that this wasn’t the first time I had used this tactic.
‘I don’t know her name. Honest, lady. She just had some chick that was wit’ her hand over the money and told me to clear out for a few days.’
‘A chick? There was another woman with her?’
‘Yeah. Nice looking gal. Nervous though. And... Well, I
