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“The fire was mostly limited to Lula’s apartment. Her apartmentis trashed. The rest of the house has water and smoke damage. Jeremy said it was arson.”
“Did you bring anyone back with you?”
“I left Duncan Dugan in Maine, but I brought Nutsy back with me. It was his choice. He’s currently camped out at my place, along with Lula.”
“Have you informed Plover that Nutsy is in town?”
“No.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Are you smiling?” I asked him.
“Maybe a little,” he said.
Lula went to get her car out of the building’s parking area, and I drove to the office. It’s always weird for me to open the office. It’s Connie’s job. She’s supposed to be there when I arrive. The coffee is supposed to be waiting for me. The doughnuts are supposed to be waiting for me. The lights are supposed to be on.
Lula arrived a few minutes after I unlocked the door and switched the lights on.
“This is weird,” she said. “This isn’t right. Connie is supposed to be here. This feels wrong.”
My phone buzzed. It was Connie.
“I just heard about the fire at Lula’s apartment building,” she said. “Are you in Maine? Did you hear about the fire? Are you in Trenton?”
“We’re in Trenton. We rolled in late last night. The fire trucks were getting ready to leave when we got there. It was a real punch in the gut for Lula.”
“Was she able to get in to see the damage?”
“The building was crime taped, so Lula spent the night withme. We went through it this morning. Her apartment is a mess. The structure is still there but everything is charred.”
“What about the rest of the building?”
“Water and smoke damage. We’re at the office. She needs to call her insurance company.”
“That’s horrible. I know she loved her apartment. I’m coming to the office. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”
“Connie is coming in,” I said to Lula.
“That’s real nice of her,” Lula said. “She makes better coffee than you.”
Ten minutes later Connie arrived.
“I got a lot to do,” Lula said to Connie. “Stephanie has a list for me, but I’m all flummoxed and I can’t remember anything.”
“Pull a chair up to my desk,” Connie said. “I’ll help you.”
God bless Connie.
“I’m heading out,” I said. “Let me know if you hear from Grendel.”
I drove by the Manley house. Nothing happening there. No Yamaha parked in the driveway. The next drive-by was Duncan’s house on Faucet Street. No sign of life at number 72. Two blocks away I stopped in front of Sissy’s house. I sat for a couple minutes and drove around the block to the alley entrance. I took the alley and paused in front of Sissy’s garage. The garage door was open, and the garage was empty. Sissy was probably out with the Kia Rio. Nutsy’s Yamaha wasn’t parked in Sissy’s yard.
Curiosity took me to Plover’s Jewelry next. I cruised down King Street and parked a block from Plover’s store. Bob and I got out and walked down the street. Even on a Sunday, it was a fairly busy section of town. Four blocks of office buildings interspersedwith stores and restaurants. A middle school was one block over. Panhandlers hung out on corners, but I didn’t see any hard-core drug users or dealers. At least none who were lying on the ground in an overdose or peddling heroin by shouting out sale prices.
I paused in front of Plover’s and looked at the window displays. I caught a glimpse of the security guard through the front door. He was armed and in uniform, looking very official. A narrow alley ran down one side of Plover’s and connected with the service alley behind the store. Bob and I turned at the corner and walked down the service alley. It was standard fare. Employee parking, dumpsters, and loading zones. Not attractive, but I didn’t have to kick rats out of my way either. We returned to King Street, and I tried to imagine the robbery. According to the police report, Duncan ran out of the store, ran half a block, and jumped into his car and sped away. When the police finally stopped him, he didn’t have the bag of jewelry. He said he dropped it as soon as he got out of the store, but the bag was never found. There were people on the sidewalk when Duncan ran out. One of them could have taken the bag, but there were problems with that theory. The police were immediately on the scene. People were detained and questioned. No one saw anyone make off with the big black garbage bag full of jewelry.
“What do you think?” I asked Bob. “Who has the jewelry?”
