He retrieved Wasserman’s number from his pad and punched it. “Ms. Wasserman? Lieutenant Sturgis, again...I know you are but just one more question, okay? There’s a gentleman who shops at the outlet regularly, mid-forties, nice-looking, white hair— you do...oh...no, it’s more...maybe...okay, thanks...no, that’s it.”

He hung up. “ ‘That’s Brad, I see him all the time. Did he have something stolen, too?’ ”

“Seeing him as a victim, not a suspect,” I said, “because he’s well-off and stylish.”

“You got it. ‘Great guy, terrific taste, you should see the gorgeous cars he drives, Lieutenant, each time a different one.’ Turns out Angeline and ol’ Brad ask each other’s opinions about outfits all the time. He’s always honest but he does it with ‘sensitivity.’ ”

“Charming fellow.”

“You think his driving Nora’s wheels means Nora and Meserve are in on it with him? Or tough luck for them.”

“Don’t know, but either way Brad had something to do with the calls to Vasquez.”

“Setting up his own cousin.”

“The same cousin he put to work as a janitor and housed in a dump. Given Brad’s background, blood ties could twist all sorts of ways. If Vasquez was telling the truth about getting calls the previous week, the setup was extremely well thought out.”

“Priming a murder,” he said. “How could Brad be sure Vasquez would blow and shoot Peaty?”

“He couldn’t, but he knew both parties and Mrs. Stadlbraun, played the odds. He told me he had bad feelings about Vasquez but rented to him anyway because there was no legal out. That’s nonsense. A landlord, especially one with Brad’s experience, can always find a reason.”

“Game of chance,” he said.

“Brad lived in Vegas. One table doesn’t work out, move to the next one.”

“Okay, let’s assume he set Peaty up. Why?”

“With Peaty’s police record and pattern of creepy behavior, he’d be a perfect scapegoat for Michaela and Tori and any other missing girls who turned up. Look what happened after the shooting: You got to search Peaty’s van, discovered the rape-kit stashed conveniently in back— no real effort to conceal. And, lo and behold, there was a snow globe in the toolbox. Just like the one left on the seat of Meserve’s Toyota. Which you knew about in the first place because Brad called you in a panic after finding the car in one of his own parking spaces. If Meserve cut town with Nora, why would he leave his wheels where they were sure to be discovered? At the very least, he could’ve put the Toyota in Nora’s garage— which, by the way, is empty— and avoided ticking off Brad.”

“By the way,” he said.

“Crowbar.”

He shook his head, drank.