the chain.”
“They didn’t drive either car there. The tapes show both cars parked there for the past forty-eight hours.”
“Maybe one or both of them went there to borrow a car?”
“That makes sense. On the other hand, the keys to both cars were probably kept in the bowl on the table in the foyer. They could have just looked for her jewelry or other valuables, then stolen both cars. One got greedy and offed the other.”
“Did you find Estelle’s jewelry?”
“We cracked the safe. It was all there, and about six thousand in cash, too.”
“Maybe they stole a piece of art, something very, very valuable.”
“A possibility. She had some good stuff.”
“There may be a copy in the house of an insurance list of valuables.”
“We haven’t found that yet,” Dino said.
“You got any hunches about this?”
“I told you, I hate hunches.” Dino was silent for a minute. “Okay, here’s my hunch: the Macan driver was Roberta Calder.”
37
Stone stared at Dino. “Doubtful,” he said. “Robbie is no killer. You were there when I asked her, remember? And you bought it.”
“There’s just the tiniest possibility that I could have been wrong,” Dino said. “Almost never happens, but I’m human.”
“Almost,” Stone replied.
“Just try to look at this objectively,” Dino said. “Pretend, for a moment, that you’re not fucking Robbie and loving it. I know that will be tough, but try.”
“All right,” Stone said, “I’m trying.”
“Our Randy was fucking both Robbie and Estelle, right?”
“At one time or another,” Stone admitted. “We’ve no reason to believe it was simultaneously.”
“So, we’ve got jealousy as a possible motive. Maybe they were having a threesome. Maybe Robbie was jealous of Estelle—so much so that she was, simultaneously, very angry with Randy.”
“Even though she hadn’t fucked Randy for a year or more?”
“By her own account, anyway. You think the hots can’t last that long? Haven’t you noticed that women—all right, people—sometimes take a proprietary attitude toward their former lovers?”
“I believe Randy may have had that attitude toward Robbie, but not vice versa.”
“Maybe she was sick enough of him that she’d put a bullet in his head to make him go away.”
“She had just filed for divorce from him. That’s enough to make him go away. And she said she’d never fired a handgun.”
“She said, she said,” Dino said, scornfully. “Maybe she’s lying. Anyway, it ain’t hard science. You point the thing and pull the trigger. Small children do it, when their parents stupidly leave guns lying around.”
“All right, I’ll give you that,” Stone admitted.
“Look, I’m not saying I’ve nailed this, but it deserves a closer look, doesn’t it?”
“Well, that’s what we’ve got a police department for, isn’t it, Dino? You keep working on it.”
“While you keep fucking Robbie?”
“I don’t see a negative connection between the two,” Stone protested, “as long as your guys knock before entering.”
“Do it at your house, all right? I want to get a search warrant for Robbie’s place.”
“Yeah, but there’s that nagging little probable cause thing to deal with, isn’t there?”
“You could have a look around her place, between sessions,” Dino pointed out.
“You just told me to do it at my house!”
“Okay, make an exception. Is she a sound sleeper?”
“I haven’t researched it, since I’m a pretty sound sleeper myself.”
“Find a way to nose around. You can do that, can’t you?”
“Maybe. What am I looking for?”
“Gosh, maybe the murder weapon, for a start.”
“You think she kills two people, then tucks the weapon into her bedside drawer?”
“I’ve known murderers to carry a dirty weapon around in their pockets for months!”
“What kind of weapon was it?”
“Our ballistics guy says a short-barreled .38 revolver.”
“Snub-nosed?”
“Could be. Maybe a three-inch. I expect you can find a reason to frisk her.”
“Hey, wait a minute: Estelle took a beating with something, didn’t she?”
“Oh, right. I forgot to mention that there was a small bronze sculpture on the living room mantelpiece that was determined to be the murder weapon. The murderer rinsed it off in the powder room sink, near the front door, then put it back. He missed a teensy spot of blood, but our crime tech didn’t.”
“Have you searched Randy’s apartment yet?”
“For what?”
“I don’t know, evidence?”
“It’s being done as we speak,” Dino said.
Dino’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Yeah? That’s very interesting,” he said. “Keep looking.” He hung up.
“What’s very interesting?” Stone said.
“Something they didn’t find.”
“Didn’t find?”
“Randy had a carry license for a snub-nosed .38,” Dino said. “My guys couldn’t find the gun.”
“Well, that is interesting, I guess,” Stone said. “Maybe somebody borrowed it from him, then shot him with it.”
“Roberta Calder, maybe?”
“That’s