Becca didn’t answer. She unlocked the unit as Lila and Mrs. Murphy exited, too. Lila’s face was solemn, her arms folded. Judging from Mrs. Murphy’s red face and the way she clutched a tissue, things had not gone well.

Lila said, “Turned out they knew exactly what they were missing.”

Becca stood, the padlock in her hand. “And they had a pretty good idea who’d taken them.”

“They had our picture,” Mrs. Murphy said, “like a pair of common criminals on a WANTED poster, pinned to a bulletin board in their work area.” She dabbed at her eyes.

“They were happy to get back some of what they lost,” Becca said. “But they gave us a list of more items that went missing at around the same time as the Goulds.” She threw open the door to the storage unit, then came over to Emily and handed her a printout. Under her breath, she said, “Mr. Murphy dropped an X-Acto blade the last time he was in there. That’s why they started looking for losses. A little over a year ago they alerted other libraries to what the pair was up to and had an attorney contact Mr. Murphy.”

A little over a year ago. That was when Charles Murphy died. Emily wondered if that was what had pushed him over the edge.

Emily scanned the list of missing items. More bird prints. Maps. And three carved birds. Emily groaned, remembering the entire shelf of carved wooden birds in Mr. Murphy’s study. Which meant his stolen cache wasn’t confined to the storage unit.

“Believe me when I tell you,” Mrs. Murphy said, “I had no idea what he was up to.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I know I should have realized. I mean, he kept wanting to go back. He wasn’t a bad man. Really he wasn’t. He was just”—she blew her nose—“weak.”

Emily could tell from Lila’s expression that she wasn’t buying it.

Emily approached the open storage unit. Cool air oozed out. Emily went inside and motioned for Becca to follow. She tried to avoid looking under the worktable where the body had been stashed.

“I said we’d help her inventory the rest of what’s in here,” Becca said quietly. “Lila’s putting together a list of institutions and people for her to contact. But after that—” Becca sliced the air with the side of her hand.

Emily got it. They’d be cutting their losses and hoping to keep their reputation intact. She remembered what Frank had told her: knowing about stolen goods wasn’t a crime, but helping to dispose of them could be a felony. But the line between the two wasn’t all that bright, and Emily didn’t trust Mrs. Murphy to accurately explain to the police what kind of “help” she and Becca had provided.