Chapters (45)
- Dedication
- Contents
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- About the Author
- Also by Faye Kellerman
- Credits
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
“No, I did not! And it would be absurd to think that Tiffany Studios would paint something to make it look like old patina. Because when they did it, it wasn’t old. Furthermore, the glass is held in place by copper channels, not lead. It was a very expensive way of doing stained glass. Tiffany invented it as far as I know. So when it was new, it would have been shiny.”
“Tell him about the perfect glass,” McAdams whispered.
Decker nodded. “Also the stained glass in the panel was in perfect shape. My partner says that with authentic Tiffany, it’s more usual than not to find a crack or two somewhere.”
“I don’t fucking believe this!” Sobel said. Decker heard a female voice in the background. Sobel was talking to it in an angry muffled voice. “Someone may have ripped off our Tiffany panels . . . yes, in the crypt!” Back to Decker. “Are you sure about this?”
“Not at all. It’s up to you on how you want to proceed.”
Sobel was still muttering curse words under his breath. “I’ll bring someone down . . . I can’t do it tomorrow. Is the crypt secured?”
“Yes, we put a new padlock on it.”
“I’ll see if my appraiser—better known as my son-in-law—can come down with me on Sunday. His place is closed so he’ll do me the favor for gratis. Well, not quite gratis. I’ve spent a fortune at his gallery . . . figure it benefits my grandchildren. Does Sunday work for you?”
“Sunday would be fine. I’ll give you my phone number and my partner’s phone number.” After he gave Sobel the digits, Decker said, “Feel free to call either one of us. In the meantime, I’ll make sure that the watchmen check the crypt lock during their work hours.”
“What did you say your name was again?”
“Peter Decker.”
“Are you new? I don’t know you.”
“I came on the force about six months ago. Before that, I worked for LAPD.”
“LAPD.” A pause. “Have you ever worked an art case before or should I send in an expert in the field?”
“I was a lieutenant when I left LAPD. I ran a squad room of detectives so I’m familiar with every kind of crime imaginable, including art theft and forgery. But you can hire your own person as long as we communicate. I don’t have turf issues especially with something so specialized. You’re in Manhattan?”
“Yes.”
“So there are probably a lot of specialists in your parts. How about if we take it one step at a time?”
“I suppose that makes sense. What was your specialty?”
“As a lieutenant, I mostly supervised my detectives. I only worked the field if it was a very big and puzzling case. Before I was promoted, I was a homicide cop for twenty years.”
“Homicide! Let’s hope there’s no need for that!”