“I’m sure. First thing I did was heat it and oil it. The key goes in, but the tumblers don’t move. Everything worked perfectly four days ago. I called up the family and explained the situation a few hours ago. They told me to cut the lock and make sure everything inside is okay. But I told them I was gonna call the police. So I called the police. And now you’re up to date.”

“Who does the crypt belong to again? Bergman?”

“Ye-ah. They’re all buried inside—Moses and Ruth and their three children, Leon, Helen, and Harold along with their spouses—Gladys, Earl, and Mary. Ken Sobel’s the one I deal with. He’s a grandson from Helen Bergman, who became a Sobel when she married Earl. Ken’s older cousin, Jack Sobel ,was buried here around six months ago. He was seventy-three.”

The man knew his local history. “How old is the crypt?”

“Erected in 1895.”

“And the family visited the crypt for a funeral about six months ago?”

“Ye-ah. Then Ken Sobel came back in the fall. Ken’s in his late sixties. He comes down four times a year as regular as clockwork. And he always makes sure the lock’s on tight.”

“So he has a key.”

“He does. Others as well but they don’t come down.”

“Could Ken have changed the lock?”

“No, sir, I asked when my key wouldn’t work. And he said no, he didn’t change the lock. And he’s the one who’s in charge.. He told me to break the lock and make sure everything’s okay inside. So that’s when I called you—the police.”

“Anything of value inside the crypt?”

“No. Unless the bodies were buried with jewelry.”

Decker said, “Jewish custom is not to bury bodies with anything material.”

“So there you have it!” Pellman exclaimed.

“Indeed,” Decker said although he really wasn’t sure what Pellman was talking about. “Has this ever happened before? That your key didn’t work the lock?”

“No, sir, not on my watch.”

During the interview, McAdams’s toe was constantly tapping. Finally, he said, “Why don’t we just go and see what’s going on? If everything looks fine, we can all go home.” He looked at Pellman. “Well, not you, but I’m not getting paid to freeze my ass off.”

Decker was annoyed, not just at the kid’s rudeness, but at the disruption of the interview. He always collected as much information as possible before he witnessed the crime scene . . . if there even was a crime scene. “Mr. Pellman, do you have anything else you want to tell me before we look around?”

“No.” The man was stunned. “Should I be telling you something?”

“It wasn’t a trick question,” McAdams said. “No is a perfectly acceptable answer.”

“Take your time, Mr. Pellman,” Decker said.

“No, nothing else.”