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“So far as I know, Sparks didn’t even have a bicycle.”
“Just as well,” Lula said. “Sir Lancelot would look like an idiot on a bicycle.”
I dropped Lula off at the bail bonds office, and I drove to my apartment. I said hello to Rex, gave him a cracker, and took a Diet Pepsi out of the fridge for myself. I went to my dining room table and opened my laptop. I wanted to know more aboutGowaKnights Templar coins.
After a couple hours of searching, I knew that the game wascreated by a man named Randy Gowa. He’d owned a factory that produced a bunch of board games, but his big-ticket item was the Treasure of Gowa. He had two sons and a daughter. None of them wanted anything to do with running a factory. When Randy turned eighty, he sold the factory but kept the rights to the Treasure of Gowa game. He died a year later. None of my research showed that there was one special coin, and I couldn’t find any evidence that a coin could bring more than $30 on today’s market.
I had a peanut butter and banana sandwich for dinner, changed into my viewing clothes, and headed for my parents’ house.
Morelli called. “Are you going to the viewing tonight?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m on my way to get Grandma. Are you going?”
“No. It’s poker night at Mooch’s house. Schmidt is going to the viewing. He’s the primary on the Mori case. Bella is supposed to be confined to the house but that doesn’t mean much with Bella. Give me a call if she shows up and I’ll come get her.”
“Are you having any luck finding Connie?”
“Nothing worth mentioning, but I wouldn’t mind knowing about the signs in the bonds office window.”
I’d known this was coming and I’d decided to partially confide in Morelli.
“Connie’s been kidnapped and the kidnapper has been in touch with the office,” I said. “We’re working with him.”
“Without police involvement?”
“I decided to go with Ranger.”
Silence for a beat. “Good decision,” Morelli said. “That would have been my choice. He has all the technology, and he canoperate outside the law. Let me know if you change your mind and you need my help.”
“I assume we never had this conversation.”
“What conversation?” Morelli said. “I don’t remember a conversation.”
“Good luck with the poker game.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it. By the end of the night, I’ll be the only one who’s halfway sober and I’ll cash in. Works every time.”
“And the other guys haven’t figured this out?”
“I’m playing with Mooch, Anthony, Little Dick, Big Dick, and Bugsy. They’re good guys, but collectively they couldn’t figure out how to unscrew a lightbulb.”
This was a real dilemma for me. I was withholding information on a murder. Schmidt was the primary on the Mori case and as far as I knew, he had no clue that the murder was attached to a mysterious coin and a kidnapping. It was one thing for Morelli to close his eyes to the kidnapping. It would be impossible for him to walk away from information on the Mori murder. So, I was hanging out alone because I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize Connie’s rescue.
Grandma was standing at the curb waiting for me. That meant she’d slipped out of the house early, before my mom had a chance to confiscate her .45.
“This is going to be a good viewing,” Grandma said, getting into the car. “I hear they filled in all the bullet holes and Mori looks real lifelike, considering he’s dead. It’s even an open casket.He didn’t have a lot of relatives but supposedly a sister is here from Detroit.”
This was way too much information for me. I was already counting the minutes to the end of the viewing. I dropped Grandma off and went in search of parking. All the on-street parking was already taken and there was one spot left in the lot. It was at the back and almost swallowed up by bushes, but I was happy to have it. This was going to be a monster viewing.
By the time I parked and made my way to the funeral home the doors were open, and the mourners had already rushed in. I assumed Grandma was in line to pass in front of the deceased. I had no desire to do this. I stayed in the lobby and scanned the crowd.
I saw Schmidt at parade rest on the other side of the room. Ranger and Tank were also there. They were all in casual black. Black jeans, black blazers, black collared shirts, black track shoes. Ranger looked like a badass movie star. Tank looked like the Hulk in a blazer, minus the green.
We knew the drill. We’d all attended viewings and funerals before with the hope that the murderer would be drawn to the drama of the event. This was different because this time we didn’t know what the murderer looked like beyond a shadowy figure in a hoodie.
I wandered around the room, looking for a stocky, middle-aged man who might have killed Mori. I found a lot of men who fit that description. Some were probably sorry they hadn’t gotten to Mori first.
I went to Ranger and stood beside him for a moment. He was the only person in the room who smelled wonderful. Ella, his housekeeper, stocked his shower with Bulgari Green shower gel and the scent stayed with him like magic.
