“Alleged is fine, Harvard.”

“Yeah, okay. I’m not saying our alleged buyer of stolen art is the same guy who arranged the hit on the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. But maybe he arranged some lesser thefts. Like the icons by Nikolai Petroshkovich.”

“I agree. Did you ever find out the names of the original detectives on the case?”

“I . . . uh.” He sighed. “I thought it was a dead end and I didn’t bother. I know, I know. I should stop thinking for myself. My initial reaction is always to bristle at orders. I fucked up. My apologies.”

“Just get it done.”

“I’d call Marylebone right now, but I’m not getting a signal on my phone.”

“Do it as soon as we get back. That way if they tell you something, you can write it down. Then go home and go to sleep.”

“Why bother? All I’ll have is nightmares.”

“Believe me, you’ll sleep. And yes, I think it’s a good idea to start investigating more local art thefts. If Latham and Moreau were stealing things, they were probably small-timers who maybe hit on something big time.”

“Makes sense.”

“So we’re now working on a possible assumption that the thefts are related to the murders and that the burglaries were done maybe at the behest of a third person who’s calling the shots. That theory can change at any time. Don’t get too wedded to it.”

“Open mind.”

“Right,” Decker said. “With that theory in mind, we both think that the murders involve more than just the theft of Tiffany panels. We suspect that Angeline was doing the stained-glass forgeries. She was talented in more than one artistic field. Perhaps she was doing other forgeries as well.”

“Like actual art painting forgeries?” McAdams said. “She’s probably not that good.”

“I agree. So maybe she was doing something that was easier to copy: like antique maps or old nature prints.”

“She couldn’t forge an Audubon, that’s for certain,” McAdams said. “He was a master at watercolors.”

“But she could be stealing . . . taking old prints and maps out of books by razoring them at the binding.”

“Again, not Audubon. Ever see a copy of his original book? I think his plates were like two feet by four feet.”

“So not Audubon. Maybe someone not as valuable or big.”

“Possibly.”

“Or,” Decker said, “maybe she was stealing outright: rare manuscripts or books. After you’re rested, I want you to check out the local libraries at the Upstate colleges and see if some of their old atlases have been messed with or see if any rare books are missing.”

“I should start writing this down.” He took out his tablet. “Find the names of original detectives in the Nikolai Petroshkovich theft, talk to the Upstate colleges’ librarians and see if any rare books are missing, check out antique reference material and see if maps or prints are missing . . . what else did you ask me to do? I’m a little fried right now.”

“Expand your search for other smaller local art thefts.”

“Right.”

“Now for the crucial question. How do we link the murders to the Tiffany theft? Just blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, Tyler.”

“I’m not a good blurter outer, Decker. I’m more the well-placed zinger type.”

Decker sighed and didn’t respond.

“Right, just shut up and answer the question. Okay. I’m gonna say that since you made copies of the keys that you found at Latham’s apartment, you’re going to valiantly attempt to open some storage locker with the faint hope that it holds the stolen Tiffany panels or other objets d’art.”

“That is an avenue of exploration, yes. But unless Summer Village PD turns up a bill to a specific storage facility, that’s a long shot. Let’s go back to the beginning. If we assume a connection—murders and thefts—how did Angeline and Latham find out about the Tiffany panels in the first place?”

“Maybe they’re professional grave robbers and they hit upon the panels by luck.”

“Are those items or any items in a cemetery worth butchering two people?”

“Is anything in cemeteries worth butchering two people like that?” The kid thought a moment. “Perhaps. Just look at King Tut.”

Decker couldn’t help it. He laughed. “How about we stick to American cemeteries?”

McAdams smiled. “No, it is not likely that Angeline and Latham were murdered for items they pilfered from local cemeteries.”

“Right now, we’re working on the theory that someone hired them to rob the mausoleum. So how did Angeline and Latham discover the panels in the first place?”

“They were told by the person who hired them to steal them?”

“And how did the person find out?”

“That’s actually a very good question,” McAdams said. “Because according to my research, they haven’t been featured in an art book or loaned out for any museum exhibit.”

“Were they mentioned in the local papers?” Decker asked.

“I checked the Greenbury Tattler from the 1970s to present day and found nothing. I’ll go back further if you want.”

“Occam’s razor,” Decker said. “What’s the most expedient way to find out about the panels?”

“Somebody who knew about them blabbed.”

“And who knew about their existence?”

“This is very Socratic. Great preparation for law school.”

“I’m this close to throwing you out of the car.”

The kid smiled. “Who knew about the panels? Uh, the caretakers of the cemetery, maybe a few locals, and of course, the family.”

“Bingo. The theft was either ordered by a family member or someone in the family yakked to the wrong person. We need to go back to New York.”

“When?”

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after tomorrow. I’m going to tell my wife to stay put. Let her enjoy the kids a little longer.” A pause. “The murders have just given us ammunition to start asking the family very serious questions.”

“You keep using first person plural. Is annoying little me tagging along?”

“You’re not tagging along, McAdams. You’re discharging your duties as a sworn officer of Greenbury Police.”

“Between you and me, I never swore any kind of an oath.”

“You can take notes on your iPad.”

“That I can do.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”

McAdams laughed. “I have several places to stay, all on the Upper East Side, FYI.”

“Hence, my reason for taking you to the Big Apple. Your upper-crust upbringing and connections will come in handy. Unless you have loyalties to your East Side homies.”

“No loyalties whatsoever.” When Decker laughed, he said, “Blunt but true.”

“Then I could use your insider perspective.”

“I can certainly talk the talk.”

“Tyler, all you need to do is walk the walk.” Decker smiled. “Let me handle the talking.”

CHAPTER 16

FOUR FIFTY-THREE IN the afternoon and a mile away from the station, Decker said, “Go home and get some rest, McAdams. If all goes as planned, I’d like to leave for Manhattan by seven tomorrow morning. That should put us into the city by ten.”

“Are you going home?” McAdams asked.

“Not yet. I’ve got to talk to Angeline’s parents and catch up on forensics.”

“How long will that last?”

“I suppose it depends on what the parents have to say and if CSI came up with anything significant.”

“Drop me off at the colleges and I’ll start looking up antique books.”

“You’re not tired?”

“I’m beyond tired and into delirious. I probably won’t get much out of anything, but I’ll be damned if I quit before you do.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

“With me, it’s always a competition. How about if we meet up for dinner when you’re done and we can swap notes?”

Decker studied the kid. “I don’t know, McAdams. I just get a feeling that you’re up to something.”

“Because I’m trying to be conscientious?” The kid got huffy. “Can’t win for losing.”

“You’re right. I should be applauding your work ethic. Okay, let’s meet up for dinner. It might be late. What time do the libraries close?”