“It depends what you want it to do. If you want it to keep criminals out, then no. Look at it. You could pick it in, what? Fifteen seconds?”
“Really? You think it was picked? Is that how the thieves got in?”
Normally the suggestion that my house was so insecure would have horrified me, but at that moment it filled me with hope. Because if the lock had been picked, it meant the thieves hadn’t used Carolyn’s keys.
“It’s possible.” McKenna knelt and examined the keyhole. “But I doubt it.”
“Why? How can you tell?”
“We’d need to have the forensic guys check it out to be sure.” He took a pen from his pocket and pointed to the metal bezel with its tip. “But you see this part? It looks pristine. If it had been picked, I’d expect a deep scratch here, and a smaller one here. I’m guessing someone got hold of a key. And since yours is missing, you’d be dumb to take any chances.”
“Well, OK.” I opened the door and tried to hide my disappointment. “Thanks for the advice. As soon as you’ve seen what you need to see, I’ll call a locksmith.”
McKenna headed down my hallway with the other two guys trailing in his wake. Each of them glanced into every room they passed, but it was my study that held their interest.
“Is that real?” McKenna was staring at the Lichtenstein.
“It is.”
“Interesting.”
“Very. It’s one of his less well-known works, but there are a couple of features that—”
“It’s interesting because it tells us the people who broke in were professionals. They had discipline. They came here with a specific target in mind, and that’s all they took. Amateurs would have stolen the painting. They wouldn’t have been able to resist. The question is, how did these guys know you had what they wanted? Did the police have any theories?”
I hesitated, reluctant to throw Carolyn under the bus. But when I saw the look in McKenna’s eye I knew I couldn’t risk lying to him.
“The detectives thought my wife might have tipped someone off.”
“Hence your reaction when you saw that photograph. But what do you think? Do you agree with them? That your wife is involved?”
“I didn’t at the time. I assumed I’d been hit with some kind of spyware.”
“Either way’s possible, I guess.” McKenna’s words carried less conviction than I’d have liked. “Mind if we look around and see if we can throw any light on it? What about the computer itself? Where have you got it hidden?”
“Oh, the computer? Didn’t I tell you? The police took it.”
“No, you didn’t mention that. Why did they take it? Did they say?”
“To look for the spyware. They figured it must have been something pretty advanced, given my virus protection hadn’t picked it up. They wanted to see if their lab could identify it.”
“Smart move. We’ll check in with them, see if they’re making any headway.” McKenna shot a glance at one of his guys, who immediately left the room. “Our labs have more experience with malware, so it could be they’d rather kick it over to us. In the meantime, let’s take a look at the usual suspects. Have you got a landline phone?”
“A cordless one, on top of there.” I pointed toward a wooden filing cabinet in the corner of the room.
The guy with the aluminum case covered the distance in a couple of strides and picked up the handset. He slid the cover off the rear compartment, pulled out the battery, and started to root around inside the body of the phone with short stubby fingers that looked extremely unsuitable for the job.
“Looks like an old one.” McKenna grimaced. “Does it work OK? Or has it ever had to go for repair?”
“It is pretty old, I guess. I couldn’t tell you when I bought it. But it works fine. Never had a minute’s trouble with it.”
“And it begins.” McKenna directed my attention back to the guy with the phone. A tiny silver disc, about the size of a hearing-aid battery, was nestling in the palm of his hand with a pair of skinny red wires with neatly soldered ends poking out between his fingers.
“Wait. What is it? A—”
McKenna cut me off with an urgent waggle of his index finger. Then he nodded to his guy, who tossed the disc on the floor. It landed near my feet, and McKenna mimed a stomping gesture to me. I hesitated, then stepped forward and crushed it under my heel.
“Seriously?” I felt a shiver dance down my vertebrae. “A bug? In my phone? How long had it been there?”
“Impossible to be sure.” McKenna shrugged. “It’s old technology. Been around for years, but people keep using it because it works. It’s pretty basic. It only gives you audio, and it has a limited range. But it gets the job done.”
McKenna’s guy opened his case and took out a shiny black box about the size of an iPhone. He flicked a switch on its side, then brought it over to the bookcase.
“We call it a sniffer. It picks up radio waves.” McKenna spread his arms wide. “If anything else is transmitting, this will find it.”
The guy reached the end of the top shelf, pausing next to each book in turn. He moved down a shelf and started in the opposite direction. This time he made it less than halfway along before I heard a high-pitched squeal. The guy switched the machine off with his thumb and started to gently ease the nearest book away from its neighbors.
“Are those all about computers?” McKenna looked incredulous. “You could fill a technical library with them.”
“Nearly all of them are.” I was on the defensive. “It’s my job, remember.”
“Have you read them all?”
“Of course. Some of them several times.”
“Really? Because a couple look a little dusty. Oh, hang on—I think we have another winner.”
The second guy had unearthed something from between the books. Another device. It was made of white plastic, about the size of a box of matches, and a narrow wire about eight inches long with a sliver of glass at the end was sticking out from one of its narrow sides. As I watched, the guy snapped the wire and slipped the remains into his pocket.
“This one you can’t just buy at RadioShack.” McKenna made a circle with his thumb and forefinger, held it to his eye, and peered at me. “It’s video. And did you see how small the lens was? It’s a lot more sophisticated. We’re going to take it with us. If we catch a break we might be able to trace where it came from.”
“Someone was watching me? In my own office?” For the first time I was glad Carolyn wasn’t here. She’d have freaked.
Unless Carolyn was the one who’d planted the camera.
“I’m afraid so. But I’m not surprised. Video increases the value of the intel tenfold. And it would be very sloppy to rely on a single device. If it were me, I’d have placed at least four in a room like this. In particular, I’d want one covering the desk. I presume that’s where your computer usually is?”
“Yes. But there’s no other furniture anywhere near the desk. Where would you plant it?”
“Maybe in the light?” McKenna suggested.
McKenna’s guy held the sniffer up, but it remained silent.
“What about the desk lamp?” McKenna asked.
The guy tested it, but again came up dry.
“There isn’t anywhere else,” I said.
“There is one place,” McKenna countered.
“Where?”
“How long has that been there?”
“What?”
“The painting. Do you ever take it down? Store it when you’re away? Have it cleaned?”
“No. Never. It hasn’t been moved since I bought it. And no one ever touches it besides me.”
Unless … Carolyn had always hated that picture. And if Weimann had revealed the role she’d played in me buying it …
“It’s in the perfect position.” McKenna pointed to the painting, and then my desk. “We have to check it.”
“No.” I stepped forward, as if I could somehow protect it from something that might have already happened. “No way. Please.”