“I can look into adding that feature, but usually our clients would rather be phoning the police instead of yelling at intruders.”

“It could be a very good dog-training device,” Stone said, “and maybe even a good marketing pitch for wronged husbands.”

“Give me your iPhone,” she said, “and I’ll download the app and set it up for you.”

Stone gave her his phone and continued to fiddle with hers. “Uh-oh,” he said suddenly. “We have company.”

She took her phone and gazed at the image. A large man was wandering around his office, wearing gloves and a woolen cap and opening drawers. The shot was from above, and the cap shielded his face.

“How the hell did he get in?” Stone asked.

“The same way he did last time,” Hev said. “I’ll bet you didn’t arm the alarm system.”

Dino pressed a speed-dial button on his phone. “This is Bacchetti. I want a squad car in Turtle Bay immediately.” He gave his office the address. “The front door should be open.”

“Don’t rub it in,” Stone said. Hev handed him back his phone, fully operational. “The guy is going through every drawer and cabinet.”

“He’s quite neat,” Hev said. “I don’t think he wants you to know he’s been there. Hang on! He’s heard something, and he’s getting out.”

The culprit ran toward the back of the office and disappeared through a door.

“He’s headed for the kitchen,” Hev said, “and we haven’t got set up there yet.”

“No, he’s headed through the kitchen and out the back door into our common garden,” Stone said. “Dino, can you get a car to cover the exit from the garden to Second Avenue?”

Dino got out his phone and gave the order, checking his watch. “They’ll be there in two minutes.”

“Hev, I think covering my house is going to be a bigger order than you planned,” Stone said.

“Mike Freeman will love that,” she replied. “What else do you want done?”

“Certainly the kitchen and a view of the garden from upstairs. And you need to adjust your cameras so that an intruder’s face won’t be shielded by a hat or a hoodie.”

“Consider it done,” she said, tapping notes into her phone.

“And you still have to change the outer door locks,” he said. “That’s twice this guy has picked the lock.”

“We had to order the new Israeli locks. They’ll be in tomorrow.”

“Aw, shit!” Dino said, listening on his phone.

“What?”

“They missed the guy on Second Avenue. He’s flown the coop.”

“That’s bad news,” Stone said.

“The news isn’t all bad,” Dino said. “I recognize your intruder.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Marvin Jones, just out of the joint.”

“But we couldn’t see his face.”

“I still recognized him.”

“From where?”