"Like what kind of a bigger fish?"
Morelli shrugged. "Don't know. The two brain surgeons I'm working with think it's some new crime organization."
"What do you think?"
"Until you showed me the checks, I thought it was just some guy with a death wish trying to pay off his mortgage. Now I'm not sure what I think, but a new crime organization feels far out there. I don't see any other signs of a new organization."
"Maybe it's just coincidence."
"I don't think so. There are too many things adding up. Three companies involved so far. Three accounts-receivable clerks have died. Another is missing. Fred is missing. Someone set a bomb to your car."
"How about the bank? Were Vito's missing accounts processed through First Trenton?"
"Yes. It'd be helpful to pull some records, but we'd run the risk of alerting whoever is involved that there's an investigation going on.
"It turns out, RGC had also been flagged for possible tax evasion. The RGC stands for Ruben, Grizolli, and Cotell. I knew Grizolli was part owner, but I didn't know there'd been any irregularities. My Treasury contacts didn't tell me that part."
"You're working as a team, and they didn't tell you about RGC?"
"You don't know these guys. Real hot dogs. And they don't like being coupled with local law enforcement."
I smiled at him.
"Yeah, I know," he said. "Sounds like I'm describing myself. Anyway, Bronfman, the guy you know as Bunchy, was doing surveillance at RGC, looking to see who went in and out. He was sitting in the café across the street the Friday that Fred disappeared. I guess Fred had wanted to get an early start, but he got to RGC before the office opened, so he went across the street for coffee. Bronfman and Fred got to talking and Bronfman realized Fred was one of the nonrecorded accounts. The following Tuesday, Bronfman got to thinking it might be helpful to get a canceled check from Fred, one way or another, went to talk to Fred, and discovered Fred was missing.
"When Mabel told him you were on the case, Bronfman decided he could use you to front for him. You could poke around and ask questions, and it wasn't as likely anyone would run for the hills. Didn't turn out exactly as he'd planned, because he hadn't counted on your ornery, suspicious nature."
"I didn't tell him much."
"No. His efforts got him zero. That's the good part." Morelli locked eyes with me. "Now that you know what's going on, you're going to tell me what you have, though, right?"
"Sure." Maybe.
"Christ," Morelli said.
"Hey, I might tell you something."
"I'm sorry, I didn't have enough pieces to put this together sooner."
"Part my fault," I said.
"Yeah, part your fault. You're not talking to me enough. Part my fault, too."
"What's your role with Treasury?"
"Tito wouldn't talk to them directly. Said he'd only deal with someone he knew. And I guess he feels protected when information goes through a couple of sources. Makes it easier to deny. So Vito talks to Terry, and Terry talks to me, and I talk to Frick and Frack."
"Who are you watching?"
Morelli flipped the kitchen light off. "Vito's accounts-receivable person. Harvey Tipp."
"You better be watching him close. Harvey's life expectancy might not be too good."
* * * * *
MORELLI DROPPED ME off on his way to relieve Bronfman.
"Thanks for the ride," I told Morelli.
He snagged my collar as I turned to leave. "We have an agreement," he said. "And you owe me."
"Now?"
"Later."
"How much later?"
"To be determined," Morelli said. "I just don't want you to forget."
Not much chance of that.
Briggs was working when I got upstairs. "You keep long hours," I said.
"I've got to get this project done. I lost a lot of ground when my apartment got burglarized. I was lucky I had my laptop in the closet in the bedroom, and they missed it. I had most of my work backed up on the laptop, so it wasn't a total disaster."
* * * * *
I WOKE UP at four and couldn't get back to sleep. I lay there for an hour, listening for sounds on my fire escape, planning my escape should someone toss a fire bomb through my bedroom window. Finally I gave up and tiptoed into the kitchen for a snack. I had so many things to worry about I could barely sort through them. Fred was last on the list. Morelli collecting on what was owed was closer to the top.
Briggs padded in after me. "Spooked again?"
"Yeah. Too much on my mind. I can't sleep." I looked down at him. He was wearing Winnie-the-Pooh pajamas. "Nice jammies," I said.
"I have a hard time finding things that fit. When I want to really impress the ladies I wear Spider-Man."
"Is it hard being a little person?"
"Has its ups and downs. I get a lot of perks because people think I'm cute. And I try to take advantage of my minority status."
"I noticed."
"Hey," Briggs said, "you gotta use what God gave you."
"True."
"So, you want to do something? You want to play Monopoly?"
"Okay, but I want to be the shoe."
We were still playing at seven o'clock, when the phone rang.
"I'm in your parking lot," Ranger said. "Do you want to come down, or do you want me to come up?"
"Why are you calling? You always just break in."
"I didn't want to take a chance on scaring the hell out of you and getting shot."
"Good thinking. What's the occasion?"
"Wheels, Babe."
I went to the window, pulled the curtain aside, and looked down at Ranger. He was standing alongside a black BMW.
"I'll be right down," I said to Ranger. "Give me a minute to get dressed."
I pulled on a pair of jeans, shoved my feet into ratty sneakers, and covered my flannel nightshirt with an oversized gray sweatshirt. I grabbed my keys and took off for the stairs.
"Looking a little scary, Babe," Ranger said when he saw me.
"A friend of mine suggested this look could be a new concept in birth control."
"It's not that scary."
I smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from my sweatshirt and closely examined a speck of lint on my sleeve. I looked up and found Ranger smiling.
"The ball's in your court," Ranger said. "Let me know when you're ready."
"For the car?"
He smiled.
"Are you sure you want to give me another car?"
"This one's equipped with sensors on the undercarriage." He held a small remote. "Push the green button to set the sensors. If there's motion under the car the alarm sounds and the red light on the dash stays lit. Unfortunately, the car doesn't know the difference between a cat, a baseball, and a bomb, so if the light is flashing you have to do some investigating. Not perfect, but better than stepping on the accelerator and being turned into confetti. Probably it's not necessary. It's unlikely someone would try to blow you up twice." He handed the remote over to me and explained the rest of the security system.
"Just like James Bond," I said.
"You have plans for the day?"
"I need to call Morelli and see if the guy who delayed me at RGC, Mark Stemper, turned up. Then I suppose I'll do my rounds. Visit Mabel. Check in at the office. Harass the garbage people." Keep my eyes peeled for Ramirez. Have my head examined.
"Somebody out there's feeling real cranky because you're not dead. You might want to wear your vest."
I watched him drive away, and before I went into the building I armed the car. I finished up the game with Briggs, took a shower, shook my head with the hopes it would style my hair, and applied mascara so people would notice my eyes and not pay too close attention to the rest of me.
I scrambled an egg and ate it with a glass of orange juice and a multivitamin. A healthy breakfast to start the day off right—just in case I lived through the morning.
I decided Ranger might have a good idea about the vest. It made me sort of flat-chested, but then, what didn't? I was wearing jeans and boots and a T-shirt with the vest Velcroed tight to my body. I buttoned a navy flannel shirt over the vest and thought it didn't look too bad.