“If Lance never met Angeline’s Boston contact, we don’t have a link.”

“Back to Boston?”

“Maybe. First things first. How do you fold up this chair?”

“There should be a latch near the footrest.”

“Ah. Right.” Decker and Rina managed to squash the chair down to a flat rectangle of metal and wheels. “Even if there was a link between Goddard and Angeline, a marble statue isn’t worth killing over.”

Rina said, “Maybe the statue turned out to be priceless, like that Degas that was just sitting outside the French embassy for years.”

Decker smiled. “I don’t think so.”

Rina smiled back. “Well, neither do I.”

“Where are we off to in the immediate?” McAdams asked. “Victor Gerrard’s apartment?”

“Yes, and that reminds me . . .” Decker pulled out his phone and punched in Cindy’s number, got her machine, and left a message. He turned to his wife. “How are you doing?”

Rina checked her watch. “Rachel’s home by now. I’d love to go see our granddaughter.”

“Not without Schultz.”

“He can come along.”

“How about we drop you off at Nina’s? And then you and Greg can take a cab to Brooklyn. We’ll meet you there later.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

“Be careful.”

“Of course.”

Finally Oliver inched over to the sidewalk with the car. Traffic, as usual, was terrible. It took a few minutes to load everyone up, to buckle everyone up, and to pull out into the cacophony of horns.

“We’ll drop Rina off at Nina’s and then we’ll head out to Gerrard’s New York address.”

“I pulled up several images of Gerrard,” McAdams said. “We can pass those around to the neighbors.”

Oliver slammed on the brakes and the car skidded. “I hate this city.”

“It’s meant for carriages, not cars,” McAdams said. “If you walk, there’s nothing like it . . . in good weather . . . without a cane.”

“You’re doing pretty well with the walking stick, Tyler,” Rina said.

“Yes, I am. Take the wheelchair back. I’d really prefer to walk.”

“It’s slippery out there,” Oliver said.

“I’ll manage. I hate feeling like a cripple.” He sighed. “This whole thing has been truly humbling.”

“You’ve handled it all very well,” Decker said.

“I’ll miss it . . . the job. I was finally feeling like I was contributing something.”

Rina said, “You’re leaving Greenbury?”

“He’s going back to law school.”

“Good decision,” Rina said.

“That’s what Jack McAdams says.”

“You know law is one of those fields that you can do anything with,” Rina said. “With what you’ve been doing, you can specialize in stolen art.”

“When do you start?” Oliver asked.

“August.” McAdams stared out the window.

Rina said, “It’s a ways off. Who knows what could happen?”

“That’s the good part about a future,” Decker said. “It’s always open.”