RANSVE

Transvestia

"Oh, surely," Mrs. Koslowski continued as eagerly as before. "At about 12:30, I heard Mrs. Motta coming in. She's a nurse, you know. She tries to be so quiet but you can always tell it's her by her walk. I think I dozed a bit then, but my leg was real sore, so I got up. I looked at the clock by the bed. Matt was sound asleep as usual: well, you'd expect that, wouldn't you, and I heard a car door slam in front of the building. Then I looked and saw it was five after one. So I went to the front window to see who it was."

“Why?” Ellis' question was curt and broke across the torrent of Mrs. Koslowski's recollections.

“I-I don't know,” she was confused and flustered.

“You live on the bottom floor, facing the front, don't you?” Hamilton's tone was soothing, seeking to re-establish the setting for Mrs. Koslowski to pick up where she had left off.

"Yes, we do," Mrs. Koslowski turned back to Hamilton's en- couraging smile. “There's a light, too, over the porch. I could see Mrs. Vane quite clearly and the other lady. They got out of the taxi and came in.”

Hamilton opened the envelope Dunn had given him, selected a photograph showing the full, beautiful face of the murder victim. "Is this Mrs. Vane?" he asked.

Mrs. Koslowski took a quick look. "No, Mrs. Vane's a much older woman. Oh!“ her hand flew up to her cheek. “She's the girl who was murdered, heh?" She looked back at the picture. "She's sure very beautiful, isn't she?”

"Could she have been the other lady who entered with Mrs. Vane last night?" asked Hamilton.

“Could be,” Mrs. Koslowski shrugged. “The other lady was wear- ing green, and I think was a redhead, but I didn't really look too close at her. When I saw it was Mrs. Vane. I just went and made a cup of coffee."

Apart from the fact that the cab was white, Mrs. Koslowski could offer little more to the detectives. Hamilton went through the usual

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