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“Was the president’s office locked?”
“The office door was locked, but it wasn’t a complicated lock, and the thief was able to open it. He didn’t bother to close the door or relock it when he left.”
“How much were the eggs worth?”
“There were three eggs. One was especially valuable. Collectively, he probably lost a quarter of a million.”
“Is this guy going to have a hard time fencing the eggs?”
“I imagine they’ll go out of country.”
I looked around. There was one uniform left in the building and one plainclothes guy from Trenton P.D. I didn’t know either of them. Ranger had four men on site. Two were at the front door, and two were at the elevator.
“How was this discovered?” I asked Ranger. “Is there a night watchman or something?”
“The company president likes to get an early start. He’s here at five every morning.”
Morelli was awake at five. Ranger was awake at five. And now here was another moron at work at five. As far as I was concerned, five was the middle of
the night.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked Ranger.
“Look around.”
I went to the back door and looked outside. From what I could see, there was an alley, a small blacktop parking lot with six designated spaces. No light. There should be a light. I stepped outside and looked up at the building. The light had been smashed. There were some glass shards on the ground under the light.
I went back inside and looked for the alarm pad. On the wall to my right. Exactly where I would have put it. I walked to the stairs, imagining the thief doing this in the dark. Probably had a penlight and knew exactly where he was going. And he was in a hurry, so he would take the stairs rather than the elevator.
I prowled through the second floor, peeking into offices, the kitchen, the storeroom. It all looked pretty normal. The president’s office was nice but not extravagant. Corner office with windows. Executive desk and fancy leather chair. Couple smaller chairs in front of the desk. Built-in bookcase behind the desk with an empty shelf. I guessed that was where the eggs used to be.
I sat in the fancy leather chair and swiveled a little, checking out the pictures on the desk. Balding, overweight guy with a cheesy mustache, posing with a preppy dark-haired woman and two little boys. The corporate family photo display placed next to the corporate pen-and-pencil set that some decorator probably requisitioned and the guy never used. Matching leather blotter. And alongside the desk was the matching corporate wastebasket. A single Snickers wrapper was in the wastebasket.
I called Ranger on my cell phone. “Where are you?” I asked.
“Downstairs with Gene Boran, the president of the company.”
“How did the thief know about the eggs?”
“The Trenton paper ran a feature on them two weeks ago.”
“Perfect.”
“Anything else?” Ranger asked.
“It looks like the cleaning crew came through here last night.”
“They left at eleven-thirty.”
“There’s a Snickers wrapper in the wastebasket.”
There was some discussion at the other end, and Ranger came back on. “Gene said he saw it on the floor, so he put it in the wastebasket.”
“It could be a clue,” I said to Ranger.
Ranger disconnected.
I ambled downstairs and slouched into a man-size chair in the lobby. The police had cleared out, and there were only two Rangeman employees left. Ranger spoke to the company president for another five minutes, they shook hands, and Ranger crossed the room to where I was sitting.
