It was Gabriel’s decision not to question Richard before the funeral. As a result, his only contact with the police since the vomit incident was when he told Gabriel over the phone that he didn’t know his wife’s iPhone passcode. I didn’t voice any objection to giving Richard some time to mourn. I understand the strategy behind it—allow the suspect to relax a bit. Maybe he’ll get a false sense of security, infer that our lack of interest in him means that he’s not a suspect.

Of course, I have my own reasons for not wanting to question Richard until he’s good and ready to talk. Not the least of which is to avoid being on the receiving end of his last meal.

Gabriel called ahead to set up the appointment. I half expected Richard to tell us that he’d lawyered up, but he said he was available at our convenience.

As soon as Gabriel and I enter the building, a second white-gloved doorman, this one with a mustache to match, asks who we’re here to see.

“Richard Trofino,” I say.

“And who may I say is visiting?” the doorman asks.

“You may say it’s Dana Goodwin and Gabriel Velasquez,” Gabriel says, flashing his badge. “But before you do, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

The doorman looks like he’s just smelled something foul. I suspect he’s under strict instructions by the co-op board not to speak to law enforcement or the press.

Gabriel doesn’t give him the chance to decline. “How many other exits and entrances to the building?”

“We’re going to get the building plans,” I add quickly, “so it’s not like you’re giving us information we won’t have by the end of the day. But we’d rather hear it from you. If you’re wrong, no worries. No one will know you were the source of the information.”

That does the trick. He says, “Four. The service entrance is manned from six a.m. to eleven p.m. The others are always locked. There’s a door out to the garage, and then two fire exits, one on the north and one on the south.”

“The ones that are locked . . . does anyone other than staff have keys?” Gabriel follows up.

“Everyone in the building.”

“What about security cameras?”

“Yeah, but the north one is busted. We’re waiting on a part.”

“Who knows about the busted camera?” I ask.

“The board.”

“Is Mr. Trofino on the board?” Gabriel asks.

“Yes. He’s the chairman.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel says. “Why don’t you tell Mr. Trofino that he has visitors now.”