Decker said, “I take it that the panels are valuable on their own.”

“Of course,” Max said. “But as a set, the value goes up exponentially.”

Decker said, “You should take the real panels out of the crypt and put them in a more secure place.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Stewart said.

“How involved is it to remove them?”

“Not too hard normally. The chains just hook into the loops in the frame but it looks like the links were tightened around the loop, which isn’t the original design. It would help to have two people up there. One to detach the panel from the frame and another one to hold the tools.”

Sobel was still swearing. McAdams turned to Pellman. “Do you have another ladder?”

“Let me check.” He came back with a shorter ladder. “This is all I had.”

“That’ll work.” Decker turned to Stewart. “Shall we?”

“Let’s.”

IT TOOK LESS than an hour to remove all four panels, another hour to remove the chains and the ceiling pieces. At straight-up twelve, the two original panels and chains were bubble wrapped and then blanket wrapped and sat in the backseat of the Mercedes. The two forgeries would be entered as evidence of a crime. Sobel jangled his keys as he turned to Decker. “Now what?”

“I’m going to need the names of everyone who has a key to the crypt or even knows that the panels exist.”

“That’s a long list,” Sobel said. “A long, long list.”

Stewart leaned over to McAdams’s ear and whispered something. When McAdams smiled, Sobel said, “Can you tell me what could be even remotely funny?”

“Just two Harvard guys shooting the shit, Ken.”

“Well, shoot the shit some other time, okay.” Sobel was irritated. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Start with your relatives,” Decker said. “Any of them have money problems?”

“That would be my sister-in-law,” Stewart said.

“Cut it out, Max,” Sobel told him. “She doesn’t have money problems.”

“My brother-in-law is a good guy. Why he married Melanie is the family mystery. Well, I know why he married her. She’s beautiful. But she’s also unpleasant and a shopaholic. And don’t look at me that way, Ken. They’re going to ask their questions anyway, right?”

“Right,” McAdams said.

Sobel was angry. “I guarantee you that none of our relatives stole the panels.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Mr. Sobel,” Decker said. “But I have to start somewhere. Anyone innocent won’t mind talking to me.”

“Sure, talk to Melanie, talk to whoever you want, I don’t care.” Sobel turned to his son-in-law. “You don’t really think that Melanie stole the panels.”

Stewart put his arm around his father-in-law. “Honestly, no. That would be a new low even for her.”

“Make us a list and we’ll take it from there,” Decker said. “Also, what about locally? Anyone in town know about the panels?”

“Just Pellman here and the other watchmen.”

“We put all the mausoleum keys in a lockbox, Mr. Sobel.”

“That doesn’t mean one of you didn’t use it.” When the caretaker blanched, Sobel said, “I’m not accusing 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.”