I was falling asleep on the couch watching Castle when I said, “That’s it. I’m putting myself to bed.” Mr. Darcy joined me a few minutes later, tuckered out himself from staying up late the night before working on one of his contract gigs. We’re laying there in the muggy night, the fan blowing, restlessly shifting under covers trying to get comfortable, having an idle, sleepy conversation when the front door buzzer goes off. Once, then again, insistently. I get up and go to the phone in the hall, lifting the receiver, “Hello?” I’m thinking it’s a tenant who has locked themselves out so I am prematurely irritated.
“This is the Seattle Police. Please let us in.”
“Uh, ok. Is there something I can help you with officer?”
“No. This concerns a different apartment.”
I buzz them in and turn to tell Mr. Darcy what’s happening. We both throw on clothes and make our way down the stairs. Before we hit the bottom floor we can hear the officers talking and a tenant, The Music Man, is frantically explaining he has a dog, he is sick, etc. There is panic in his voice and we hear handcuffs as the officer says, “Just turn around. Calm down.”
That’s when I looked at Mr. Darcy and said, “I don’t want any part in this. Let’s go.” And we booked it back up to our apartment. I felt embarrassed for the Music Man and also a little scared. The officers clearly didn’t need the managers butting in or they would have asked to speak with us when they rang our buzzer.
From our living room windows we could see not one but three cop cars parked on the corner. We sat in a dark apartment keeping watch on them, waiting to see if they were in fact hauling off The Music Man. A total of 20 minutes had passed since they rang the buzzer when we saw three officers walk out the side of the building with The Music Man, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and what looked like no shoes, a suit blazer hung from his gaunt shoulders, his arms not in the sleeves because they were handcuffed behind his back. One officer held him by the arm and in the other hand held a plastic grocery bag filled with what looked like clothes. They put him in the back seat of one of the cruisers and then two officers had a casual conversation beside it while the one who hauled Music Man used a sanitary wipe to clean his hands.
I have no idea what he did, why he was arrested, or where his dog is since he lives alone and there wasn’t enough time for someone to show up to take the dog. We stayed up even longer talking about what could have happened to get him arrested. It could be anything really. I don’t know how much I should know though a tenant living in my building who can get arrested? Is not really a tenant I want. That’s not the kind of building we run. I feel bad for him as he is very sick, paranoid, and mentally unstable. I’ve alerted the landlords and will wait to see what happens.