“Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as you thought.”

Spiro didn’t say anything for a couple beats, then he turned on his heel and walked back to the Lincoln. We kept quiet for the rest of the trip. When we reached Spiro’s parking lot I couldn’t resist another shot with the caskets.

“Kind of funny about you and Kenny and Moogey. Kenny thinks you’ve got something that belongs to him. And now we think maybe Moogey had something that belonged to you.”

Spiro slid into a space, put the car in park, and swiveled his body in my direction. He draped his left arm over the wheel, his top coat gaped, and I caught a glimpse of a gun butt and shoulder holster.

“What are you getting at?” Spiro asked.

“Nothing. Just thinking out loud. Thinking that you and Kenny have a lot in common.”

Our eyes held, and cold fear ran the length of my spine and crawled through my stomach. Morelli was right about Spiro. He’d eat his young, and he wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in my worthless brain. I hoped I hadn’t pushed too hard.

“Maybe you should stop thinking out loud. Maybe you should stop thinking altogether,” Spiro said.

“I’m going to raise my rates if you’re going to get cranky.”

“Christ,” Spiro said, “you’re already fucking overpaid. For a hundred dollars a night, the least you could do is throw in a blow job.”

What I was going to throw in was a nice long time behind bars. It was a comforting thought, and it kept me going while I did my bodyguard thing in his apartment, flipping on lights, scoping out closets, counting dustballs under his bed, and gagging at the soap scum behind his shower curtain.

I gave his place a green light, drove the Lincoln back to the funeral home, and exchanged it for my Buick.

I caught Morelli in my rearview mirror half a block from my parents’ house. He idled in front of the Smullenses’ until I parked the Buick. When I stepped out of the car, he crept forward and parked behind me. I suppose I couldn’t blame him for being cautious.

“What were you doing at Delio’s?” Morelli wanted to know. “I assume you were baiting Spiro about the truck.”

“You assume right.”

“Anything come of it?”

“He said he didn’t know anyone from Macko Furniture. And he discounted the possibility that Moogey might have taken the caskets. Apparently Moogey was the group idiot. I’m not even sure Moogey was involved.”

“Moogey drove the caskets to New Jersey.”

I leaned back against the Buick. “Maybe Kenny and Spiro didn’t include Moogey in the master plan, but somewhere along the line Moogey found out and decided to cut himself in.”

“And you think he borrowed the furniture truck to move the caskets.”

“It would be one theory.” I pushed off from the Buick and hitched my bag higher onto my shoulder. “I’m picking Spiro up at eight tomorrow to take him to work.”