“Could be seven months, eight, five, I don’t know. What I do recall is he was still in bed, the place was a mess, as usual. There was a woman. I asked her to leave for a moment. So he could sign the tax form. The safe’s in a closet in his bedroom. The closet door was open, there were also loose guns. On shelves. And big ones—rifles—propped up on the floor of the closet. I got out of there.”

“Has he ever threatened you with a firearm?”

“Not yet.”

“You think he might.”

“At this point, Lieutenant, I don’t know what to think.”

I said, “About the meerschaums …”

Milo’s eyebrows rose.

Prema said, “Yes, of course. The meerschaums. The lovely meerschaums … when you collect them, the big deal is to get them to color gradually as you smoke them. From white to amber. For that to happen, the pipes are coated after they’re carved. Then the owner recoats them from time to time.”

Her hands clenched. “What’s used for the coating, Lieutenant, is beeswax.”

Milo’s lips pursed. “Really.”

“Specifically, confectioner’s beeswax, Lieutenant. With all those pipes, Donny Rader must go through the stuff like crazy because he buys pots of confectioner’s beeswax. Back when we were living together, I saw it in his workshop. He builds things. Birdhouses, ashtrays. Not very well.”

“You’ve seen him work with beeswax.”

Nod. “One time he called me in to watch him work on a pipe. Showing off. He heated up the beeswax, brushed it on, waited for it to cool, then buffed it shiny. About a month ago, he ordered six fresh pots of beeswax. I know that because instead of going through his purchasing assistant—a gopher at Apex, our management firm, we each have one—he ordered it online himself. Using my personal credit card, the package ended up on my desk. It came from a baking supplies outfit, my first thought was the cook had bought it, someone had screwed up and used my personal card instead of one of the household cards. Then I opened it and realized what was inside and called him to take it. We met at the gate to his place. I asked him why he’d bought it using my name. He didn’t really have an answer, was pretty much loaded on weed or whatever. As usual.”

“He say anything at all?”