“You like this guy?” Sam asked, surprised.

“I don’t like him. I just mean he had a certain animal cunning going for him. Which also means,” Willy added, “that I don’t think his screwing Melissa Monfet is the last rabbit he’s gonna pull out of his hat.”

“Well,” Joe said. “Rabbits are why we’re here. I sure wasn’t expecting the Shaws to pop up again like they have.”

“No,” Les agreed, taking another swig. “Us, neither.”

“What do you make of it?” Joe asked generally.

“Could be several things,” Sam suggested. “Or a combination of them. The obvious one is they had a fight that caused Don to steal Shaw’s car, probably out of spite, which then prompted him to burgle the Shaw house later. It was what he did, after all.”

“How did he know where Shaw lived?” Lester asked.

“Same reason he took his time before doing it,” Willy answered, asking, “What’s the one thing every stolen car has on board, regardless of age, rank, or serial number?”

“Its Twenty-Eight,” Sam replied, using ten-code to refer to a car’s registration.

“Usually kept in the glove compartment,” Willy said. “So while Don was rummaging around Shaw’s fancy ride, he found the reg and decided on the spur of the moment to find out what other toys the old man had. That would fit.”

“How ’bout he drove up there to blackmail Shaw?” Lester proposed.

“Over what?” Willy challenged him. “Shaw had already called his wife to pick him up.”

“Did Don know that?” Les came back. “For all he knew, Shaw hired a cab. It’s what I woulda done.”

Willy chuckled. “To have Sue meet you at the door with a shotgun.”

“What about the fight at the club?” Sam asked. “We keep pushing that around. First, it means they knew each other from before, then it was a setup so Don could justify storming off and stealing a stranger’s car. Are we missing something there?”

“Probably,” Willy muttered. “We usually do.” In a louder voice, he added, “Robin told me Don didn’t know Shaw before stealing the car.”

“I’m not necessarily saying he did,” Sam persisted. “All of it—the fight, the car theft, the later trip to Shaw’s house—could be connected somehow. It’s not that it’s smaller than we’re thinking; it might be way bigger.”

“What do we know about Lemuel Shaw?” Joe asked.

“We did the usual checks,” Willy replied. “But we didn’t hit up New Hampshire’s Information Analysis Center for one of their … what do they call their reports? It’s got a funny name.”

“Products,” Lester said.

“Right. And what about NESPIN?”

That was the more extensive New England database that the state police used. “Yes on Kalfus, not yet for Shaw,” Lester told them.

“Throw in Lucy Shaw while you’re at it,” Joe recommended. “I don’t want the Shaws becoming a distraction, but they are growing in importance.”

“Before we move on,” Sam cautioned, “let’s not forget that while they reported the car stolen, they did not report any break-in.”