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“We know everything. So it’s a good thing you told me the complete truth. We were beginning to question your loyalties.”
“Who exactly is ‘we’?”
“Us,” Rollo said. “Keep an eye on Mr. Knight. We want to know exactly where he goes. Exactly what he does.” He took out a red cellphone and placed it on the table in front of her. “Call us with a report.”
He rose and crossed to the door.
“What’s your number?” Riley asked.
“It doesn’t matter. Call any number. We’ll hear you.”
Riley cringed at the sight of a D.C. police car parked in front of Maxine’s townhouse. It was a reminder that the most terrible thing had happened to Maxine.
A uniformed cop was standing on the sidewalk by the cop car. He was back on his heels, hands on his gun belt, looking bored. Two men in rumpled suits were standing on the small front stoop. The front door to Maxine’s townhouse was open, and Emerson was in the doorway talking to the two guys in suits.
Riley parked the Mini, hung her purse on her shoulder, and joined Emerson.
“This is Lieutenant Lepofsky and Lieutenant Dannay,” Emerson said to Riley. “They’re old friends, and they’ve been kind enough to allow me access to Maxine’s apartment. Come inside. I have something interesting to show you.”
Lepofsky and Dannay stayed on the stoop, and Emerson led Riley into Maxine’s living room. He pulled the wooden box from the bookcase and opened it so Riley could look inside.
“Check the serial number,” Emerson said. “It’s different. For whatever reason, someone felt it necessary to substitute this bar for the original.”
“That’s weird. If they didn’t want the bar found, why didn’t they just take it?”
“Good question. Maybe they didn’t want the fake bar found. Or maybe they wanted a bar found with a different serial number.” Emerson closed the box and put it back on the shelf. He took a piece of paper from the desk and put it into his pocket.
“What’s that?” Riley asked.
Emerson removed the paper and read it aloud. “?‘Deliveries to 51. Plan 79.’?”
“That’s Günter’s handwriting,” Riley said, looking over Emerson’s shoulder. “What does it mean?”
“I don’t know. The crime scene unit has already been through the house and removed what they thought necessary. This was left as insignificant.”
“But you think it might be significant?”
“Günter wrote it, so it must mean something.”
Emerson returned the paper to his pocket and crossed the room to the door. “How did it go with Rollo? Did you tell him you were meeting me here?”
“No. He didn’t ask.”
“Did he give you a phone?”
“Yes. A red cellphone,” Riley said.
“Give him a call and tell him I’m leaving here. Tell him we’re going to the Uptown Theater.”
Emerson thanked the plainclothes guys on the way out, and looked across the street at Riley’s Mini.
“You’re still driving that little car,” he said.
Riley narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “And?”
“I suppose we’ll have to make do.”
Riley reminded herself that she was a professional, and stabbing Emerson with her nail file wouldn’t be appropriate. She opened Rollo’s phone and saw that there was only one number in the contact list. It had a 410 area code, which meant it was local. She tapped the number and Rollo answered on the second ring.
