Murder 101. Faye Kellerman

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СКАЧАТЬ were darker than the frame and looked flat when compared to the rest of the metal. Decker saw a raised chip of what he thought was a metal shard poking up, but when he touched it, dark paint flicked off and fell onto the back of his hand. Carefully, he climbed down the ladder and folded it up. “Uh, with the family’s permission, I’d like to get an art expert down here to look at all four windows.”

      McAdams said, “Why? What did you find?”

      “I’m not sure, but I’d like someone to take a closer look.”

      Pellman shuffled his feet. “I suppose I can call up the family.” He hemmed. “Maybe it would sound better if it came from the police.”

      “I’d be happy to call them up and tell them my thoughts.” Even in the dark shadows, Decker could tell that Pellman was relieved. The watchman gave Decker Ken Sobel’s telephone number. “Do you have something to secure the door with?”

      “No, not on me.”

      “I don’t suppose there’s a hardware store open at this time of night?”

      Pellman said, “Just call up Glenn Dutch. I’m sure he has something around his house. If not, he’ll open the store for you.”

      McAdams said, “Dutch’s Hardware is on Gable Street.”

      “Do you have the number?” Decker asked Pellman.

      “I don’t have it, but Roy might have it. Roy’s a friend of Glenn’s and I have Roy’s number.”

      “Could you get Glenn’s number from Roy, then?”

      “Surely, I can.” He checked his contact list on his phone. “I must have it at home … Roy’s number. I’ll call up my wife and she can get me Roy’s number who can get you Glenn’s number.” Pellman walked a few feet away to make his calls.

      McAdams said, “You want to tell me what you found or are you going to make me play twenty questions?”

      Decker said, “I found paint.”

      “Paint?”

      “Paint flicked off on one of the loops soldered onto the frame. It was painted to make the solder joints look old. And, come to think of it, whoever put those loops on the frames did a sloppy job of soldering. Now it could have been a recent repair. I’m just saying it wasn’t in keeping with the original work.”

      McAdams said, “What did the glass look like? The individual pieces, I mean.”

      “The glass was beautiful … really iridescent.”

      “Did you find any cracks?”

      Decker regarded him in the shadows. “Interesting you should ask. I remember thinking that the glass was in really good shape. Why?”

      “This may not be true for window panels, but my mom always said that the lamps have been around for a while. It’s nearly impossible to find something in pristine shape—without any cracks—that hasn’t been forged.”

      “Good to know,” Decker said. “On the other hand, the panels have been hanging in the same place for over a hundred years untouched.” A pause. “On the third hand, the works are hanging in a noncontrolled environment. With all the weather fluctuations, you might expect a few cracks. On the fourth hand, I only looked at one panel so maybe the others have cracks in the glass.”

      “So that’s the way you do it. You just keep talking to yourself until you hit on something.”

      “Sure, I talk to myself if no one else is around. When I was head of the detectives’ division, I used to talk to my other detectives. We’d bounce stuff off one another and we were right more than we were wrong.”

      “You know, I am standing right here, freezing my ass off. You could bounce shit off me.”

      “McAdams, I’ve been trying to bounce shit off you for the last six months and all I’ve had to show for it was a face full of crap. S’right. I know I’m a terrific detective. If you want to learn, I’ll be happy to share what I know. And if there’s something that I don’t know but you do know, well, that’s fine with me also. A great detective starts by being a great listener.”

       CHAPTER THREE

      With the Bergman crypt once again secured by a padlock courtesy of Glenn Dutch’s Hardware, they left the crypt at 11:30. It was late to be making calls, but if it had been Decker’s crypt, he would have wanted to know right away. He handed a slip of paper to McAdams. “This is Ken Sobel’s number—the one who was up here most recently and seems to be in charge. You can do the honors.”

      “Me?”

      “You’re my superior.”

      “So I’m assigning you to the task of making the call.”

      “It’s my Sabbath. Can you do me the favor?”

      “It’s late.”

      “I know. But I still think we should call him.”

      “Why?”

      “Because it’s the proper procedure. Pellman has already told him that there was something wrong with the lock. He’s probably waiting to hear from him.” A pause. “Look, if you don’t feel comfortable—”

      “Don’t be ridiculous.” McAdams took out his phone. “I’ll do it.”

      But he didn’t do it. Decker said, “Start by introducing yourself.”

      “I know how to handle this, okay.” Decker didn’t answer and McAdams regarded his phone. “How much should I tell him? I mean, what if he ripped the panels off himself? Aren’t we giving him a heads-up that we’re suspicious?”

      “Let’s just stick to what we know, okay.”

      “We don’t know anything for certain so why are we even calling him?”

      “We’re calling him to let him know that everything looks fine, but we’d like for completeness sake to have him authenticate the panels. But you’ve got to lead into that conversation. First tell him that everything looks okay. Then compliment the panels, then ask if they’re real Tiffany—”

      “I get it!” Abruptly, McAdams shoved the phone into Decker’s hand. “You’ve obviously got some script in your head. Just do it and get it over with, okay. I’m freezing … beyond freezing. I’m numb everywhere.”

      “I’ll make the call but could you at least punch in the numbers for me?”

      “I don’t think I can move my fingers.”

      “Give it to me.”

      “I’m kidding, Old Man.”

      Decker said, “Put it on speaker so I won’t have to repeat the conversation.” McAdams was СКАЧАТЬ