“The house for sure, but more to the point, the entrance to the goddamn development. Why they even bother with a gate is beyond me, the people they hire have no experience and anyone can walk through, which is obviously what happened. Probably after dark. Asshole with a picnic basket, he could just carry it in. On foot.”

I said, “He’d need to get into the house. Was the alarm set?”

“Marissa doesn’t remember, which probably means it wasn’t. And no signs of break-in, so for all we know, a door was left unlocked. Safe neighborhood and all that.”

“For someone to be aware of lax security, he’d have to be familiar with the area and/or the property. There’s a guard out there, now. When did he come on duty?”

“Eight a.m., and no one was in the booth between eight p.m. and then. Logical, huh? I had Sean and Moe canvass the neighbors about intruders, unusual vehicles, anyone walking on the road. Nada.”

I said, “With properties set this far back and with darkness, you’d have to be looking to spot anyone. Any indication the food was cooked in the house?”

“Just like Hennepin, the place was left spotless, though he did use plates and cutlery from the house. So he either pre-prepared his munchies or cleaned up compulsively.”

He swore under his breath. “I came, I saw, I catered.”

I said, “Marissa said Richard didn’t have a key but Ballou contradicted that. Be good to find out how Richard got hold of it.”

“As a matter of fact, lad, I can supply that data, because after I got Marissa’s call, I phoned Richard. His story is that when he decided to sell the house, he came over and retrieved one from a secret hiding place he and Ursula had, in case they ever got locked out.” He pointed. “Over there, in the barn. But before you get too excited, Richard’s been in San Diego for two days. And I didn’t just take his word for it, I confirmed with the Manchester Grand Hyatt. His card-key record has him out of his room between seven thirty and ten p.m. last night but his bar and restaurant tabs confirm drinks paid for at eight thirty and dinner at nine fifty.”

“Dinner with who?”

“Clients. I called the hotel restaurant and they back him up. Richard and several Asian gentlemen.”

“Stay-at-home loner traveling on business,” I said. “That’s a switch.”

“A hundred twenty miles to San Diego ain’t Phnom Penh, but yeah, it’s different and Corey talked about it, he needs to get out more and schmooze now that he doesn’t have Ursula. I’m not saying I can’t be fooled but, Alex, he did not sound overjoyed. More like overwhelmed. Out of his element.”

“He have any opinion about what happened here?”