From a reader:

Jonah,
As I was reading your posts about Trotsky connections, it reminded me of a story my great grandmother told me. My family is from Mexico City, and my great grandmother lived several blocks from where Trotsky lived (actually, she still lives there). On the day Trotsky was killed, she and a friend had seen the sirens and heard all the commotion, so they decided to take a walk to see what was going on. After talking to a police officer for a little while when the got there, they convinced him to let them go in and look around. So I am one degree removed from being in Trotsky’s room on the day that he was killed.