seemed fine. Also, there’s a cousin who mostly does the jewelry buying. Her name is Katy Mendel. Jill says she’s lovely.”
“Any strife between any of the relatives? Or you probably didn’t ask.”
“No, I didn’t ask.” Rina picked up a pickle that was bigger than the burger. “Jill didn’t give off any vibes of conflict. She’s been working there fifteen years. Are you still considering Max a suspect?”
“I can’t see him stealing four small Tiffany panels, ruining his name, and committing a crime, when he has such a vast inventory to steal from. And he could probably alter the books without anyone noticing for a while. So for the moment, he’s near the bottom.”
Rina said, “So what’s your plan now?”
“I’ll go down the list of family members and people who knew about the panels and see what I can dig up. What’s the jewelry woman’s name again? Katy what?”
“Mendel.”
“Thanks.” Decker wrote the name on his notepad. “I did find out from Tyler that stealing from graveyards isn’t unusual. The most likely culprits are the caretakers and people who live around the cemeteries.”
“What do they take when they’re not stealing Tiffany?”
“Planters, urns, statues, architectural decorative elements, lawn mowers, shovels, even gravestones.”
“So maybe your thief is closer to home.”
“Whoever did this put time and money into replacing the panels so no one would notice. He probably had a buyer lined up before he stole the first panel.” Decker regarded his empty plate. His hand made a beeline for the breadbasket.
Rina stopped him. “You want to split another hamburger.”
“Not at these prices. And plus we’re taking the family out tonight. I’d like to go home with some money in the bank.”
“We can afford another hamburger.” Without asking, Rina summoned a waiter and ordered another burger. She gave him a wide smile. “Tell them to be a little more generous on the beef. You’re not feeding supermodels, okay?”
Decker laughed as the waiter huffed away. “Before we leave Manhattan, I’d like to check out the Met. They have Tiffany glass panels that I’d like to see. Also there’s a place . . . Emanu-El? Do you know it?”
“Sure. It’s been around since the mid-1800s. It’s reform.” She began playing with her phone. “Started by German Jews. Prime example of Moorish Revival . . . ah, there’s a Tiffany window there. That’s why you want to see it.”
“Not that I need to see it, but as long as I’m here I figure I should educate myself.” He looked up. “Want to come with me?”
“I’d love to.” She stowed her phone back in her purse. “So are you going to tell me how you suddenly became an expert on Byzantine mosaics?”
Decker smiled. “McAdams gave me a history lesson about fifteen minutes before we met to go to the gallery.”
“Why?”
“It had to do with an art theft that happened thirty years ago. Four mosaic icons from a Russian Orthodox church in Rhode Island made by an artist named Nikolai Petroshkovich. What was stolen was done in the style of the mosaics at Ravenna. The timing couldn’t have been more advantageous.”
“You sounded casual but very impressive. What does an old art theft have to do with your case?”
“Probably nothing. I asked McAdams to look up all major art thefts around our town and I’m not about to punish him for being thorough.”
“For once.”
“Yeah, for once. Mostly he just clocks in the hours. Why he signed up for Greenbury Police is still a mystery. He seems to hate everything about his life there.”
“I’m sure there’s a backstory.”
“My opinion? I think he’s secretly writing a screenplay and that’s why he joined any police force that would take him. The guy is pure Hollywood to me.”
“I’m sure it’ll all come out one day.”
A pause. Decker said, “I’d like to talk to the detectives who worked that Rhode Island case if they’re alive. Find out the
“Any strife between any of the relatives? Or you probably didn’t ask.”
“No, I didn’t ask.” Rina picked up a pickle that was bigger than the burger. “Jill didn’t give off any vibes of conflict. She’s been working there fifteen years. Are you still considering Max a suspect?”
“I can’t see him stealing four small Tiffany panels, ruining his name, and committing a crime, when he has such a vast inventory to steal from. And he could probably alter the books without anyone noticing for a while. So for the moment, he’s near the bottom.”
Rina said, “So what’s your plan now?”
“I’ll go down the list of family members and people who knew about the panels and see what I can dig up. What’s the jewelry woman’s name again? Katy what?”
“Mendel.”
“Thanks.” Decker wrote the name on his notepad. “I did find out from Tyler that stealing from graveyards isn’t unusual. The most likely culprits are the caretakers and people who live around the cemeteries.”
“What do they take when they’re not stealing Tiffany?”
“Planters, urns, statues, architectural decorative elements, lawn mowers, shovels, even gravestones.”
“So maybe your thief is closer to home.”
“Whoever did this put time and money into replacing the panels so no one would notice. He probably had a buyer lined up before he stole the first panel.” Decker regarded his empty plate. His hand made a beeline for the breadbasket.
Rina stopped him. “You want to split another hamburger.”
“Not at these prices. And plus we’re taking the family out tonight. I’d like to go home with some money in the bank.”
“We can afford another hamburger.” Without asking, Rina summoned a waiter and ordered another burger. She gave him a wide smile. “Tell them to be a little more generous on the beef. You’re not feeding supermodels, okay?”
Decker laughed as the waiter huffed away. “Before we leave Manhattan, I’d like to check out the Met. They have Tiffany glass panels that I’d like to see. Also there’s a place . . . Emanu-El? Do you know it?”
“Sure. It’s been around since the mid-1800s. It’s reform.” She began playing with her phone. “Started by German Jews. Prime example of Moorish Revival . . . ah, there’s a Tiffany window there. That’s why you want to see it.”
“Not that I need to see it, but as long as I’m here I figure I should educate myself.” He looked up. “Want to come with me?”
“I’d love to.” She stowed her phone back in her purse. “So are you going to tell me how you suddenly became an expert on Byzantine mosaics?”
Decker smiled. “McAdams gave me a history lesson about fifteen minutes before we met to go to the gallery.”
“Why?”
“It had to do with an art theft that happened thirty years ago. Four mosaic icons from a Russian Orthodox church in Rhode Island made by an artist named Nikolai Petroshkovich. What was stolen was done in the style of the mosaics at Ravenna. The timing couldn’t have been more advantageous.”
“You sounded casual but very impressive. What does an old art theft have to do with your case?”
“Probably nothing. I asked McAdams to look up all major art thefts around our town and I’m not about to punish him for being thorough.”
“For once.”
“Yeah, for once. Mostly he just clocks in the hours. Why he signed up for Greenbury Police is still a mystery. He seems to hate everything about his life there.”
“I’m sure there’s a backstory.”
“My opinion? I think he’s secretly writing a screenplay and that’s why he joined any police force that would take him. The guy is pure Hollywood to me.”
“I’m sure it’ll all come out one day.”
A pause. Decker said, “I’d like to talk to the detectives who worked that Rhode Island case if they’re alive. Find out the
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