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“So who has the money? Hannibal?”
“Hannibal set Ranger up to take the fall for the murder, but it's hard to believe he intended to cheat Stolle. He wanted Stolle pacified, not pissed off.” Morelli helped himself to another piece of pizza. “I think it sounds like a stunt Homer would pull. He probably switched bags in the car on the way to the office.”
Oh boy. “I don't suppose you know what kind of car he was driving?”
“Silver Porsche. Cynthia Lotte's car.”
I guess that could explain Cynthia's death.
“What was that face you just made?” Morelli asked.
“It was a guilt grimace. I sort of helped Cynthia steal that car back from Homer.”
I told Morelli about Cynthia walking in on Lula and me, and how Cynthia wanted her car back, and how that entailed getting the dead guy out of it. When I was done Morelli just sat there, looking dazed.
“You know, when you're a cop you get to a point where you think you've heard it all,” he finally said. “You think there's nothing left that could surprise you. And then you come along, and it's a whole new ball game.”
I selected another piece of pizza and thought the conversation was probably going to deteriorate now.
“Probably I don't have to point out that you destroyed a crime scene,” Morelli said.
Yep. I was right. It was definitely deteriorating.
“And probably I don't have to point out that you withheld evidence in a homicide investigation.”
I nodded affirmative.
“Jesus Christ on a crutch, what the hell were you thinking?” he yelled.
Everyone turned and looked at us.
“It wasn't like I could stop her,” I said. “So it seemed like the expedient thing to do was to help her.”
“You could have left. You could have walked away. You didn't have to help! I thought you just picked him up off the cement floor. I didn't know you dragged him out of a car, for crissake!”
People were staring again.
“They're going to find your prints all over that car,” Morelli said.
“Lula and I wore gloves.” Lucy and Ethel get clever.
“It used to be I didn't want to get married because I didn't want you sitting home worrying about me. Now I don't want to get married because I don't know if I can handle the stress of being married to you.”
“This would never have happened if you or Ranger had confided in me. First I get asked to help in the investigation, and then I get shoved aside. This is all your fault.”
Morelli narrowed his eyes.
“Well, maybe not all your fault.”
“I have to get back to work,” Morelli said, calling for the check. “Promise me you'll go home and stay there. Promise me you'll go home and lock your door and not leave until this gets settled. Alexander is scheduled to fly back to Greece tomorrow. We think that means Homer is leaving tonight, and we think we know how he's going to do it.”
“By boat.”
“Yeah. There's a container ship sailing out of Newark, headed for Greece. And Homer is a weak link. If we can bring him in on a homicide there's a chance he'll plea-bargain and give us Alexander and Stolle.”
“Gee, I kind of like Alexander.”
Now Morelli grimaced.
