“What do you mean?”

“Parents, brothers, sisters, city of birth? For as much as you yap when we’re driving, I don’t know anything about you.”

“Nothing much to tell. I grew up in the city. By the city, that means Manhattan. My parents divorced when I was ten, and both of them were remarried by the time I was fourteen. A couple of half sibs, a couple of stepsibs, all of them younger and none of them as smart as I am. I don’t have much of a relationship with any of them.”

Talking about family was obviously painful for him so Decker didn’t ask any more questions. They walked the next ten minutes in silence until the local graveyard came into view. That was another thing about small towns. Cemeteries were right in your face, not like L.A. where they’re situated in no-man’s-land off the freeway. This one was several blocks of upright headstones with a secluded, gated portion for the mausoleums: domed structures with fluted columns. Since the captain had mentioned something being broken into, it had to be one of the crypts.

Decker said, “Do you want a hand or foot warmer package? My feet are ice at this point.”

“Yeah, sure.”

After handing him the packets, Decker took a couple for himself, broke them in half, and dropped them into his snow boots. “Ah . . . better. I’m not really cold—after eating that much meat you can’t be cold—but my hands and feet get numb.”

“Why did you insist on walking? Surely there’s some religious dispensation that allows you to drive the car when working.”

“Yeah, I could have taken the car. Probably would have been smarter. What can I say, McAdams? Without a Harvard B.A., I guess I’m just handicapped.”

THE WATCHMAN WAS a dead ringer for Ichabod Crane with a long face and extended skeletal frame and sunken eyes unsuitable for daylight. Any minute, Decker expected to see the headless horseman. His given name was Isaiah Pellman and his family had been living in Greenbury for two hundred years. The history was given by way of introduction to his good character. There were a lot of loquacious people in Greenbury as well as a lot of odd ducks. Eccentrics were everywhere in the world, but they were more noticeable in smaller populations.

They were chatting while standing between rows of headstones. Pellman said, “I check the Bergman crypt all the time, so I was really surprised when this happened.”

Decker pulled out a notebook. “What specifically happened?”

“My key doesn’t work the lock: that’s what happened.”

“Okay . . . so the lock wasn’t broken off?”

“No, it was broken off and exchanged for a different lock.”

“And your key always worked the lock before?”

“Yes, sir, it did.”

“Are you sure the lock just didn’t freeze?”