Murder 101. Faye Kellerman

you, Isaiah. Just saying out loud what the police are thinking.”

      McAdams snapped his fingers. “What about anyone at the colleges? Maybe an art professor knew about them from your parents’ time? Littleton has been around for a while and back in my dad’s time, it was noted for bringing in local experts on regional painters and craftsmen from the area. Tiffany’s studio wasn’t all that far from here.”

      The boy had a brain. Decker said, “That’s a good thought.”

      “I never had any dealing with the colleges,” Sobel said.

      “We can find out,” Decker said. “Would you know if the panels had ever been loaned out to a museum exhibition or recorded in a book on Tiffany?”

      “Or any other art glass book?” McAdams asked.

      “I don’t know,” Sobel grumped. “You don’t know how depressing this is for me.”

      Stewart put his arm around his father-in-law’s shoulders. “The good news is we know the panels weren’t destroyed, Ken. They were taken by someone who wanted them because he knew what they were. And the panels can’t be sold in a reputable auction house, because there’s no provenance of ownership. So if the thief is going to sell them, he’d have to use the black market. We’ll find them. If not, you’ve got insurance.”

      “I don’t want insurance. I want the works.” The man teared up. “They were my grandparents’ legacy. My grandmother commissioned them from Tiffany Studios.”

      “I know.” Max kissed his cheek. “At least, we salvaged two of them. And if we need to do a facsimile of the others, I’ve got artisans who are just as talented as those at Tiffany Studios although almost anyone could do much better than those pieces of dreck.”

      Sobel nodded. “Thanks for coming down, Max.”

      “Oh please, Ken. You know I’d be insulted if you asked anyone else.” Stewart looked at Decker and McAdams. “We’ll get that list for you. I’m sure we won’t think of everyone, but as names pop up, we’ll send them off to you.”

      “Thanks,” Decker said. “And I don’t care how long it is. A long list isn’t as big a problem as no list at all.”

      Sobel nodded and slid into the driver’s seat. Stewart sat in the backseat, with an arm placed skillfully over his glass charges. They drove off in a wisp of exhaust, tooled up for the long ride back to civilization.

      Pellman said, “I’m gonna put the ladders away.”

      “That’s fine,” Decker said. “Thanks for all your help.”

      “Do you think that Mr. Sobel suspects me?”

      “No, he’s just upset.” Decker patted his shoulder. “We’ll talk to you later.”

      The men walked back to the car. McAdams put the key into the ignition, turned on the motor, and headed back to the station house less than five minutes away. “What now? I’m sure you have many ideas bouncing around in that predementia brain of yours.”

      “A few. I’d love to hear what you’re thinking.”

      “Age before beauty.”

      Decker said, “This is the drill. We bounce ideas off each other. I say something, you say something. There is no right or wrong. So it’s okay to say stupid things.”

      “That’s never been my problem, Old Man.”

      Decker smiled. “No thief would go through all that rigmarole to keep the panels for himself. He had a fence or he was hired for a buyer. If it was a buyer, he probably wants all four panels before he shells out money. I’m sure our thief is going to return and try to steal the other panels. So that means surveillance.”

      “You mean like monitor cameras on the crypt’s door?”

      “No, I mean like a guy sitting in a hidden place waiting from the thief to return and arresting him.”

      “It’s an open area. Where could we park a car so it wouldn’t be noticed?”

      “He’s going to come at night so that gives us some cover,” Decker said.

      “We’re going to sit here all night, every night until we catch a thief that may or may not show up, take one look at the lone car, and hightail it out of here?”

      The kid had a point. “Maybe we could do it with cameras linked up to a surveillance van parked elsewhere. Or I’m only a mile away. I could actually just do this from home.”

      “And where do you propose we’d find the technology in rural little Greenbury?”

      “You’re the techno guy. You tell me.”

      McAdams frowned. “I suppose we can stick a camera in a strategic place and link it up to a tablet or smartphone, Eagle Eye or some system like that.”

      “That would work for me. We could rotate the watches of the laptop at night between the five of us detectives.”

      McAdams said, “Do you really think the thief would return to the crypt knowing that the cops are onto him?”

      “Why would he think we’re onto him?”

      “What if the thief saw all the commotion that went on this afternoon?”

      “Did you spot anyone nosing around?”

      “Not really, but I wasn’t looking. What about you?”

      “I checked around several times. I didn’t notice anyone watching.”

      “Maybe no one was watching us on the streets. But I’m betting that a few of the neighbors pulled back their curtains to see what was going on.”

      “Yeah, you’re probably right about that. And that leads me to another thought. If we start asking questions locally, eventually the local paper will find out. So will everyone else, including the thief—if he’s local. This is a very small town.”

      “So I repeat. What’s next?”

      “Not doing surveillance would be negligent. Let’s do something before the case blows wide open. Could you help me hook up a camera?”

      “Who’s gonna pay for this?”

      “I’ll ask Mike. It’s something that’s handy to have.”

      “And if Mike says no?”

      “I’ll pay. These things aren’t that expensive even for an old retiree like myself. Of course, if some rich kid with gold watches wants to pitch in, I won’t object.”

      Despite himself, McAdams smiled. “Maybe that can be arranged.” He pulled into the station’s parking lot. “Okay. Happy hunting. And what do I do while you’re out there making suspect lists and checking them twice? Practice shooting jelly beans out my nose?”

      “Can you really do that?” McAdams rolled his eyes and Decker said, “Think about it, McAdams. You tell me. What useful things could you do?”

      “Quit this job and do something that will exploit my many talents?”

      “Does that include law school?”

      A pause. “Eventually.”

      “How about if you look up past crimes of cemetery theft? If nothing shows up nearby, branch out using Greenbury as the center of the circle. Lots of fancy mausoleums in the area. I’m sure this has happened before.”

      McAdams sighed. “Fine.”

      “Too exhausting for you, Harvard?”

      “I just think it’s stupid.”

      “Why’s that?”

      “Because we both think it’s a professional theft, especially because the original panels were replaced with forgeries. The