“You have any idea how Kenny got in?”

“Must have just walked in. When I leave at night I set the alarm. I shut it off when I open up in the morning. During the day the back door is always open for deliveries. Usually the front door’s open too.”

I’d watched the front door for a good part of the morning and no one had used it. A florist had pulled around back. That was about it. Of course, Kenny could have waltzed in before I got there.

“You didn’t hear anything?”

“Louie and I were working in the addition most of the morning. People know to use the intercom if they need us.”

“So who was in and out?”

“Clara does hair for us. She got here around nine-thirty to work on Mrs. Grasso. She left about an hour later. I guess you could talk to her. Just don’t tell her anything. Sal Munoz delivered some flowers. I was up here when he came and left, so I know he won’t be any help.”

“Maybe you should check around. Make sure you’re not missing anything else.”

“I don’t want to know what else I’m missing.”

“So what is it that you have and Kenny wants?”

Spiro grabbed his crotch and gave a hoist. “He was small. You know what I mean?”

I felt my upper lip curl back. “You’re kidding, right?”

“You never know what motivates people. Sometimes these things eat at them.”

“Yeah, well, if you come up with anything else let me know.”

I went back to the room and collected Grandma Mazur. Mrs. Mackey was on her feet, looking okay. Marjorie Boyer seemed a little green, but maybe it was just the lighting.

When we got to the lot I noticed an odd tilt to the Buick. Louie Moon was standing beside it, his expression serene, his eyes locked onto a large screwdriver sticking out of the whitewall. He could just as well have been watching grass grow.

Grandma squatted down to get a better look. “Don’t seem right that someone should do this to a Buick,” she said.

I hated to give in to paranoia, but I didn’t for a minute think this was an act of random vandalism.

“Did you see who did this?” I asked Louie.

He shook his head no. When he spoke his voice was soft and as flat as his eyes. “I just came out here to wait for the ERT.”

“And no one was in the lot? You didn’t see any cars driving away?”

“No.”

I allowed myself the luxury of a sigh and went back inside to call for road service. I used the pay phone in the hall, unhappy to find that my hand was shaking as I fumbled to find a quarter in the bottom of my pocketbook. It’s just a punctured tire, I told myself. It’s no big deal. It’s a car, for chrissake … an old car.

I had my father come to rescue Grandma Mazur, and while I waited for the tire to be replaced, I tried to imagine Kenny sneaking into the funeral home and leaving the note. It would have been fairly easy for Kenny to come in the back door and not be seen. Slicing off a finger would have been more difficult. It would have taken time.