“I’m just saying that somebody has to take responsibility!”

“That would be me,” Decker said. “I’m responsible for this investigation right now. So if you want to yell at someone, yell at me.”

“Why would I yell at you? You’re trying to help.”

“I am,” Decker said. “So you knew nothing about an apartment off-campus?”

“Not a thing,” Jim said. “We weren’t paying for it, that’s for certain.”

“Okay. Going back to the apartment, we found glass shards in it. We also have the forged panels. Our next step is to see if the glass that we found in the apartment matches the glass in the forgeries.”

“Even if it does match, it doesn’t mean that Angeline did the forgeries,” Jim said. “There could be dozens of people owning that glass—”

“Jim, just listen to what the man has to say, okay.” Karen wiped her eyes. “You think she forged the panels.”

“I have to consider it, yes.”

“And she was murdered because of the forgeries?” Karen’s eyes shed new tears.

“Maybe.”

“How valuable are these panels?” Jim said. “Are they priceless or something?”

“Pricey but certainly not priceless.”

“How much? Like thousands?”

“Probably.”

“If she was carrying around expensive bags, you’re thinking that she has done some other types of forgeries before and that’s how she got the spending money,” Karen said.

“Yes, that’s what I’m thinking.” He paused. “Could there be other illegal activities that she’s done in the past?”

“Like what?”

“Drugs maybe?”

“No, not Angeline,” Karen insisted. “Yes, I can see her . . . possibly . . . copying some art pieces, but not drugs.”

“Why can you see her copying other art pieces, Mrs. Bronson?”

“Karen.”

“Okay, sure. Karen. Tell me why you said that.”

The woman sighed. “Angeline was every bit the typical college student, idealistic and a bit . . . radical. She often spoke about art, saying it should be available to the masses. In museums and public places, not holed up in big mansions. Her goal was always nonprofit . . . getting major pieces back to public places from private places. So . . . maybe she got carried away, imagined herself to be a modern-day Robin Hood.”

Stealing from the rich and buying designer handbags. Decker said, “Anything else you’d like to tell me about her?”

“No.” Karen wiped her eyes. “And I’m not saying she did anything illegal. I’m just trying to give you background on my baby.”

“I appreciate it.”

“What’s with this Latham guy? How does he fit in?”

“I’m working on that. It’s not my case—it happened in Summer Village, which is a suburb of the Boston area—so I can’t just charge in and demand answers. But when I find out, I’ll certainly let you know.”

“So he’s not a student anywhere here?”