“I think we’ve got all we need,” Tully O’Brien said, holding up a folder as he came back to the front of the gallery. “Miss Jensen confirmed what you said, Miss Archer, and she was also kind enough to print out the attendance lists of the auctions you bid on last night.”

“I’m glad she could be of help,” Bennett said, following the men to the front door.

“Thank you for answering our questions, Miss Archer,” Stan said, waiting while Bennett unlocked the door. “And if we have anymore, we’ll contact you.”

“Anytime, gentlemen. Anytime.”

The two detectives walked out into the crisp November night and made their way to their car. “So, what do you think?” Stan said as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.

“I think it’s bullshit,” Tully said, opening the driver’s door of the car. “You could have knocked me over with a feather when the captain told us we had to investigate these muggings. Whitey Flanagan is the biggest lowlife around. He’s got hookers on every corner and pushers in every alley, and I don’t know how he can fit his cojones into his pants because they gotta be huge for him to waltz into the station and not only report one crime but two.”

Both men climbed into the car, and as Tully slammed the door, he looked over at Stan. “As far as I’m concerned, we did our job. We investigated. We questioned, and we came up with bupkis. Bennett Archer is no more a mugger than you and I are Batman and Robin. Now, let’s get back to the station and wrap this shit up so we can both go home.”

***

“Can you handle the auction? The lot should come up soon,” Bennett said, coming into the office.

“Um…sure,” Lisa said, looking up from the desk. “You don’t have to go down to the station, do you?”

“What? No, of course not,” Bennett said, pulling her coat from the closet. “But I need to pay someone a visit, and I need to do it tonight.”

“Who are you going to see?”

“Napoleon.”

“Napoleon’s in Boston? Oh crap. Is he the one who killed those people in the park? The way they described it in the news, it did strike me as a little suspicious.”

It didn’t surprise Bennett that Lisa knew of Napoleon. A guardian’s knowledge was passed down from generation to generation, and just as Oskar’s father had taught him, he had taught his children. The only difference was that Oskar had met Napoleon, and Lisa, Finn, and Gunnar hadn’t had the displeasure, and Bennett intended to keep it that way.