“Not that I’m defending Peter, but he’s more right than wrong. If he thinks the library needs to be checked out, I’m not going to argue.”

“I know he’s trying to tie Moreau to something more than Tiffany windows, but I still can’t see her being a mover and a shaker in the nefarious world of looted art. Maybe her murder had nothing at all to do with the stolen panels. Her ex-boyfriend was pretty shaken when she dumped him. He followed her to Boston and even went by John Latham’s apartment. I know he had an alibi for both murders, but friends lie for one another all the time.”

“Was it just one person who alibied him?”

“No, it was several people who saw him. And he was in class like he said. But no one can perfectly account for every minute of his day. And people get the time wrong.”

Rina said, “Peter feels that some foreign entity is involved.”

“The Russian mafia.” McAdams rolled his eyes. “Even if I agreed with him on that end, what would that have to do with Chase Goddard and a few stolen prints?”

Rina went silent. Then she said, “Tyler, can you look up on your iPad to see if there are any rare Russian books that have an auction history?”

“That’s a thought.” He nodded. “Give me a minute.”

Schultz had returned and that made Rina feel a lot better. She said, “All’s quiet.”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

McAdams said, “There is a book by D. A. Rovinski—five books actually published in St. Petersburg, 1881. Russkie Narodnye Kartinki better known as Russian Folk Pictures. They sold for auction in 2013 for 11 million rubles. And that would convert to . . . wow, that’s surprising . . . 315,500 dollars.” He continued typing. “God, the prints are gorgeous. Want to take a look?”

“Love to.” She looked as he swished through the images. “They’re beautiful.”

“Yes, they are,” McAdams said. “I’m assuming that is a very, very rare book and not the kind of thing that would be sitting around Rayfield Library collecting dust.”

“Unless the library doesn’t know what they have.”

“That’s why you have a reference librarian. She should know her inventory.”

“It’s worth a shot to ask her,” Rina said. “What else goes for big money?”

“Books by Pushkin . . . Eugene Onegin . . . okay, this sounds interesting. A book commemorating three hundred years of Romanov rule, published during the diamond jubilee in 1913. This one went for . . . roughly 115,000 dollars. At least these books are in the vicinity of worth killing over.” A pause. “I don’t really see Chase Goddard dealing in them. Maybe Jason Merritt.”

“Does it say anything about who owned the books and who bought them?”

“Nope.” His eyes were still on his pad. “I don’t believe this! Son of a bitch!” He looked up. “Sorry.”

“What?”