STONE WOKE SLOWLY the following morning. Holly was lying naked next to him on her belly, and his hand rested on her ass. He found it companionable to wake up with her next to him, warm and bare.

He ran a finger up her ass, between the cheeks.

“Hmmmmm,” she muttered. “More.”

“More what?”

“Just more.”

He rolled over and lay on top of her.

“You’re nicely heavy,” she said.

He was growing in size, and in response she opened her legs wider. “More,” she said.

“Where?”

“Anywhere you like.”

She was wet, and he slipped inside her.

“Good choice,” she said.

Stone moved slowly in and out.

“That’s so good,” she breathed, pushing back against his belly.

“It’s better than that,” Stone said, close to her ear. “You’re in wonderful shape.”

Holly continued pushing rhythmically against him. “They toned us up at the Farm.”

“Thank you, Farm.”

Holly rolled over. “I want to be able to get my hands on you,” she said, taking him in her hand and reinserting him. She pulled her knees up and rested her ankles on his shoulders. “There,” she said. “Now.”

Within a minute they had come noisily and lay sweating and panting in each other’s arms.

“What a wonderful way to start the day,” Holly said.

“It makes me want to go right back to sleep,” Stone said.

“Sex renders men unconscious,” she laughed. “I’m quoting you.”

THEY WERE AT BREAKFAST, eating without much conversation. Holly spoke up. “I want to meet this burglar of yours,” she said.

“What, you want a date?”

“Thanks, but I’m all booked up,” she said, kicking him under the table. “No, I’m just surprised you aren’t paying more attention to him.”

“Dino and I eliminated him as a suspect.”

“On what grounds?”

“Since his father’s death and his own release from prison, he’s become a valued member of the community; he’s married with a child; he earns a very good living making very expensive cabinets; and he’s too smart to foul his own nest, especially such a small nest. He also has nothing in his record to indicate that he’s interested in committing crimes of a sexual nature, raping and murdering teenaged girls.”

“Still, he has a lot of skills that make him a suspect.”

“I actually had him go over this house and give me his opinion on the security features. He was impressed.”

“Let me get this straight,” Holly said. “You gave a high-class burglar a tour of your home, pointing out all the security features?”

“Yes, and actually he pointed them out to me, not the other way around.”

“God, you’re naive, Stone.”

“I am not.”

“Don’t you know anything about burglars?”

“Of course I do; I worked burglary for a year on the NYPD.”

“How many did you catch?”

Stone hesitated. “Not as many as I would have liked.”

“There you go,” Holly said. “A smart burglar is notoriously hard to nail. If he doesn’t get caught or seen on the property or leave fingerprints or DNA, and if he has a fence unknown to the police, he’s damn near bulletproof. These guys know this. Even the ones who get caught learn from their mistakes and go right back to work as soon as they’re out of the joint. Very high recidivism rate among burglars. There’s also a significant sexual component to these crimes; burglars are often rapists. They get caught for that rather than for the burglaries.”

“All right,” Stone said. “I’ll introduce you to the guy.”

Mabel Hotchkiss bustled into the kitchen. “Oh, you’re already eating,” she said. “I wanted to make breakfast for you.”

“We fixed our own,” Stone said. “How was your evening on the mainland?”

“We enjoyed it very much,” Mabel said, starting to clean up the pots and pans they’d used.

“You should have stayed longer.”

“No, one night there is enough. I like to get home.”

“Mabel,” Stone said, “can you ever remember anyone getting into this house who shouldn’t have been here? Anyone outside the family?”

Mabel shook her head. “Mr. Stone said that could never happen, because of steps he’d taken.”

“Has either you or Seth ever lost a key?”

“No, we each have one; mine’s in my purse, and Seth’s is in his pocket. Why do you ask?”

“I’m still trying to figure out everything.”

They finished their breakfast, then Stone got out the MG and they drove north on the island.

“I don’t know what our excuse is going to be for this visit,” Stone said.

“Why do we need an excuse?”

“I don’t want to appear to be harassing the man,” he said.

“Leave it to me.”

They turned into Hal Rhinehart’s drive and stopped next to the shop. Rhinehart was at his drawing table in his office, working on a set of plans. “Good morning,” he said.

“Morning, Hal. I want you to meet Holly Barker, a friend of mine.”

Rhinehart shook Holly’s hand. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.

“I wanted to ask you about something,” Holly said.

“Go ahead.”

“You know the Stone house has Assa locks.”

“Yes, and they’re the best.”

“If you wanted to get past one of them, how would you do it?”

“I’d find another way in,” he replied. “I wouldn’t waste my time working on an Assa.”

“I’m talking about the Stone house, specifically,” she said.

“That’s a very tight house,” he replied. “If I really wanted to get in, I’d try and steal a key from somebody. Otherwise, I’d pass it up for something easier.”

“Could you get a duplicate key made?” Holly asked.

Rhinehart shrugged. “I’d try and bribe the locksmith who installed it. He’d have to order a key or a blank from Assa, in Sweden. The trouble is, there’s no locksmith on the island; Dick Stone would have to have found one in a larger city to come and do the work, and there’s no way to know which one.“

“Suppose the bribery didn’t work. How would you get a key?”

“If I were in New York, I’d follow the maid to the subway and steal her handbag. As you can see, getting past an Assa would be a major pain in the ass.”

“Could you pick it?”

“I tried that once for two bloody hours and got nowhere. When you put the key into an Assa and turn it, something like ninety-two things have to happen inside the lock before it will open.”

“Could you make a copy of a key?”

“Sure, if I could get a wax impression. Then it could be cut from a solid piece of metal. That’s also a major pain. There are simpler ways to make a living as a burglar.”

A young woman carrying an infant came into the office. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were busy,” she said.

“This is my wife, Helene,” Rhinehart said, “and our baby, Dede. She’s nine months old.”

Holly made the appropriate noises with the baby. “Thanks for your help,” she said. “We’d better be going.” They said their goodbyes and went back to the car.

“Well?” Stone said.

“All right,” she said, “Rhinehart sold me. He’s a reformed character.”

“Good questions about the locks,” Stone said.

“Yeah, but no good answers. I’m stumped.”

“So am I.”

“I guess we’ll have to pursue other leads.”

“What other leads?” Stone asked.

“Well, there is that,” she said.