“What can I do for you, sir?”

Lucero’s deep voice asked.

“It’s about the cases you’re investigating. The eiderdown clothes and things that are supposedly hot with thieves. There was this article about it in the paper this morning. It said you’re the detective.”

“Right”

“Well, it really pisses me off that the cops are so stupid.”

He got louder. “It said in the paper that since Thanksgiving this and that have been stolen from stores, cars, and homes in the greater Richmond metropolitan area. You know, comforters, a sleeping bag, three ski jackets, blah, blah, blah. And the reporter quoted several people.”

“What is your point, Mr. Sullivan?”

“Well, obviously the reporter got the victims’ names from the cops. In other words, from you.”

“It’s public information.”

“I don’t really give a shit about that. I just want to know how come you didn’t mention this victim, yours truly? You don’t even remember my name, do you?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t say that I do.”

“Figures. Some fucking asshole breaks into my condo and wipes me out, and other than smearing black powder everywhere - on a day when I was dressed in white cashmere, I might add - the cops don’t do a thing. I’m one of your fucking cases.”

“When was your condo broken into?”

“Don’t you remember? I’m the one who raised such a stink about my down vest. If it wasn’t for me, you guys would never have even heard of eiderdown! When I told the cop that among other things my vest had been taken and it had cost me five hundred bucks on sale, you know what he said?”

“I have no idea, sir.”

“He said, What’s it stuffed with, cocaine?’

And I said, ‘No, Sherlock. Eider duck down.’

And he looked around nervous as hell and dropped his hand close to his nine-mil. The dumb-shit really thought there was some other person in my place named Eider and I’d just yelled at this person to duck down, like I was going to pull a gun or something. At that point I just left and-“

Wesley switched off the tape recorder.

We sat in my kitchen. Lucy was working out at my club again.

“The B-and- E this Hilton Sullivan’s talking about was in fact reported by him on Saturday, December eleventh. Apparently, he’d been out of town, and when he returned to his condo that Saturday afternoon, he discovered that he’d been burglarized,” Wesley explained.

“Where is his condo located?”

I asked.

“Downtown on West Franklin, an old brick building with condos that start at a hundred grand. Sullivan lives on the first floor. The perpetrator got in through an unsecured window.”

“No alarm system?”

“No.”

“What was stolen?”