Murder 101 (31 page)

“I guess if I had been paying attention to her, I could have seen what she was doing. But I wasn’t. Why are you asking all these questions?”

Decker said, “Her thesis was on textiles, not icons. Why would she want a book on iconography? Did you ask her about it?”

“No. I didn’t ask her about it. Why would I care?” Terry looked at McAdams. “You said the book was valuable. Did she take it? Is that why she was killed?”

McAdams looked at Decker who said, “The book is still in the library. But some of the original plates have been stolen and replaced with forgeries.”

“Just like the Tiffany windows,” Sobel said.

Decker nodded.

“She’s the connection, right?”

“Jury is still out.” Decker quickly scanned his notes and then he looked at Terry. The thefts of the art plates didn’t seem to come as a shock to him from the expression on his face. “Thanks for seeing us, Lance. I may have a few more questions later on.”

“If you do, call instead.”

“Some conversations are better in person.”

“You didn’t have to sneak up like you did. I would have told you about the book in the first place, but I didn’t remember. There was no reason to terrorize the doorman.”

“We didn’t terrorize anyone,” McAdams said. “Besides, this is the Upper East Side. He’s dealt with far worse than us.”

“I have a question.” Sobel pointed to McAdams. “I see what happened to you. Am I in danger?”

Terry looked up and down and didn’t say anything. Decker raised his eyebrows. “Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

“Me? No . . . I mean, yeah. Are we safe?” Terry’s voice grew loud. “This is just terrific. Another legacy that the bitch left behind.”

“Are you sure you don’t have anything to tell me?”

“No,” Terry said.

“You never answered my question,” Sobel said.

“I wish I had an answer,” Decker said. “I’m carrying a gun. So is Detective Oliver. My wife is carrying a gun and has a full-time armed bodyguard.”

Terry began to pace. “You know my fucking name is on that index card. Anyone can look at it and hunt me down.”

“It’s not available to the public,” McAdams said. “I had to arm twist to get the librarian to give it to me.”

“Why isn’t that comforting right now?”

“I’ll get it pulled, Lance,” Decker said.

“I want it destroyed!”

“I’ll get it pulled by one of the men and locked up in an evidence room,” Decker said. “I can’t destroy it just yet because it might be evidence.”

“The whole thing is fucking whack!” Sobel said. “I repeat. What should I do?”

“What should
we
do?” Terry asked. “Like get out of town or something?”

Decker said, “Small towns make it very easy to find people.”

“I can vouch for that one,” McAdams said.

“So we sit around waiting to be shot?” Sobel said.

“It wouldn’t hurt to take precautions,” Decker said.

“You mean hire a guard?” Terry said. “You just waltzed right in. And if this asshole tried to take out a cop, what chance do I have?”

“I’m way more involved in this case than you are, Lance; I really don’t think either of you is on the bad guy’s radar.”

“But you don’t know.”

“True. I don’t know. If it were my kid, I’d look into armed protection. It’s probably not necessary, but there’s no harm in being cautious. Maybe even overcautious.” Decker paused. “Overcautious is okay. It’s usually the daredevils who get tripped up.”

CHAPTER 31

T
HE STOPOVER FOR
the night was Nina McAdams’s ninth-floor apartment on Park Avenue. It was an august Beaux-Art building of stone and marble, staffed with uniformed doormen who were aghast to see Tyler in a wheelchair.

“What in the world happened to you, Mr. M?” asked the shorter of the two front doormen.

“Nina didn’t tell you?” No response. McAdams said, “Just a little accident, Jonah, but I’m fine. Is my grandmother upstairs?”

“She left for dinner.”

“At nine at night?”

“Yes, sir.”

“With whom?”

“A new one, Mr. M. I haven’t seen him before,” Jonah said. “But someone is still up there. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?”

“No, I’m fine, but thanks for asking.” McAdams wheeled over to the elevator. The taller of the two uniforms rushed over to push the button and everyone waited. Decker was perfectly able to ride the elevator up without help but the upper crust of New York City lived an infantilized life. There was a ding and everyone crowded inside the wood-paneled car.

“How are you this evening, Dicky?” McAdams asked.

“Just fine, Mr. McAdams. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m not perfect, but I’ll be fine. If anything, I’m lucky.”

“If you say so, Mr. McAdams.”

The elevator opened up onto a spacious marble landing with only one door: Nina McAdams owned a full floor apartment. Decker knocked before Tyler could get out his keys, and when Rina asked who it was, he said, “It’s your tired husband and friends.”

She opened the door and the three men came into a wide marble foyer. McAdams forged ahead, wheeling himself into a majestic living room filled with ornate furniture, a large fireplace, a grand piano, a carved staircase leading to a second story, and big French doors that opened to a terrace with an over-the-rooftops view to Central Park. The space was adorned with molding and patterned hardwood floors covered in part by expensive-looking oriental rugs.

“I’ve been drinking tea and reading a book and luxuriating in a cashmere blanket.” Rina smiled. “How aristocratic is that? Your grandmother is lovely, Tyler. It’s so nice of her to put us all up.”

“We’re doing her the favor.” McAdams looked around. “Where are Bonnie and Kate?”

“Bonnie went home about an hour ago. Kate is in the back doing the laundry. She didn’t want to leave me alone at first. I don’t know if she fully trusts me.”

“That’s just Kate.”

Decker looked around. “Where’s Greg Schultz?”

“He and Nina went out for a bite to eat.”

“He left you
alone
?”

“No, I have Kate.”

“She’s over sixty and has a limp,” McAdams said.

“You’re not helping me,” Rina said.

“I’ll kill him,” Decker muttered.

“Peter, I’m fine and I’m armed. Besides, this place has better security than Fort Knox. I insisted they go out.”

“He shouldn’t have listened to you. What’s the matter with him?”

“He’s a volunteer, remember? His brain needs to turn off. It’ll make him more alert in the long run.”

“She’s right,” Oliver said.

“Who asked you?” Decker was still standing.

McAdams looked at Rina. “Are you comfortable here?”

“Are you kidding me?” She tousled his hair. “Come on, guys. I’ll show you where Nina has stationed us.” She turned to McAdams. “Do you need help getting up to your room, Tyler?”

“Nope. The place has an elevator.”

Rina laughed. “Nina didn’t show me that.”

“And I bet she didn’t show you the secret passage that leads to a secret room. It’s where my grandfather entertained his mistresses when his wives were out, leaving no evidence of the deed. All that ended when Nina came along. She boarded up the space. Then she opened it back up after he died. Lord only knows what she uses it for.”

“Maybe if I behave, will she rent it out to me?” Oliver said.

“Maybe if you don’t behave, she’ll rent it out to you.”

Oliver laughed. Decker said, “Where should we meet to talk?”

“The breakfast room. We can spread out.”

Decker looked around. “Where is that?”

Rina said, “I’ll show you. I think I’ve got the lay of the land.”

McAdams opened a door and wheeled himself into an elevator cart. “See you in twenty.”

It was more like thirty before everyone came down. By that time, Greg and Nina had come back and the oversized apartment hummed with activity. Kate had fixed finger sandwiches and there were also preopened bottles of sparkling water and port with small, crystal glasses. Nina had gone upstairs to get comfortable—whatever that meant—and Greg Schultz, revitalized from his hour on the town, showed the group a map of the area complete with alleys and hiding places. He had done such a good job that Decker didn’t reprimand him.

Schultz said, “I also have the doormen looking out for anything strange. They know more about the area than I could ever hope to learn. Anyway, I hope you aren’t mad about me leaving Rina alone. She and the lady of the house ganged up on me.”

“I’m sure they did,” Decker said. “You’re off duty now, Greg. I’ve got it from here.”

“Thanks. See you all in the morning. ”

The boys replenished their fuel intake with the sandwiches while Rina sipped sparkling water and nibbled on fresh fruit.

Nina came down in sweats and flats. Her face was perfectly made up and her blond hair was still coiffed. “Anyone for coffee or tea?”

Tyler grinned. “You’re pouring?”

“No, I’m offering. Kate will do the actual pouring.”

“You were scaring me for a moment, Nina.”

She gave him a grandmotherly pat. “Silly boy.”

“I’ll take coffee, if you wouldn’t mind, ma’am,” Oliver said.

“It’s Nina,” she said. “And you are way too old to ma’am me.”

“I am old, Nina, but in dealing with such a beautiful and charming woman, it’s better for me to error on the side of respect.”

Nina stared at him. “You’re very good. Are you married?”

“Nina . . .” McAdams said.

“Hush up.” She smiled at Oliver. “Not that marriage has ever stopped anyone.”

“I’m not married.” Oliver grinned. “And I have a lot of war stories from my days at LAPD if you’re interested.”

Decker rolled his eyes. Nina caught it. “So the stories aren’t true?”

“No, they’re true,” Decker admitted. “He left the force because he was shot.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me all about it,” Nina said. The coffeepot beeped. “Kate, the coffee’s ready.”

“Coming.”

McAdams said, “I think we can take it from here, Nina.”

“You’re kicking me out?”

Tyler stood up with a cane. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Yes, I am. But thank you for everything. You’re a first-class woman.”

Nina was speechless. A tear trickled from her eye. “That was gracious—so unlike you.”

“It’s just because I’m weak, Nina. Very weak.”

She wiped her cheek “Good night to all.” A brief smile and then she left. After Kate poured coffee, she disappeared as well. The ensuing silence was awkward. Rina asked how it went with Lance Terry. Decker gave her a synopsis of the conversation with the two young men.

Rina said, “Interesting that Livingston just happened to be there.”

“It looked suspicious at first,” Decker said. “But I believed Terry when he said he called Livingston down.” A pause. “I still think he’s holding back.”

“Totally,” Oliver said. “I’m wondering why he
really
left the school. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d have a breakdown even if his ex-girlfriend was murdered. Furthermore, it was his final year of college.”

McAdams said, “Maybe someone threatened him?”

“Yeah,” Oliver concurred, “I think someone spooked him good.”

Decker said, “We know that Terry didn’t kill her. His alibi checked out. So did Sobel’s. But were they involved in the murder?”

“Don’t see it,” Oliver said.

“Why not?” McAdams said.

“Just a gut feeling based on experience. Do you disagree?”

“Not necessarily. I’m just trying to figure out your conclusions logically.”

“That’s a mistake,” Oliver said.

Decker said, “I believe Sobel when he says he hadn’t seen Angeline for a long time. For now he’s out of the picture. Terry’s another story. I think something scared him enough to drop out of school and come running to the safety of home.”

“At least they didn’t shoot him,” McAdams said.

“True. If someone had, he would have phoned the police.” Decker sipped coffee. “We have a recent link of Lance to Angeline. The Petroshkovich book. But did he know that she was razoring out the prints?”

“He seemed genuinely surprised,” Oliver said. “But the point is, even if Terry didn’t know what she was up to, maybe someone saw them go into the library together. Maybe that someone thought they were up to mischief.”

“So you think the murders had to do with the Petroshkovich book?” Rina said.

“No,” Decker said. “The murders had to do with something very big and I don’t see the Petroshkovich book as being that big. But it does point the finger at another forgery that Angeline was involved in.”

Oliver said, “How did she reproduce the pictures if she never checked out the book? She would have had to have seen the originals, right?”

“Of course,” Decker said. “The book was coowned by Pretoria College in Marylebone. If we checked out the reference library there, do you think we’d find John Latham’s name on a sign-up sheet?”

Oliver said, “He took the plates, gave them to her, and she put the phony ones back when Terry checked the book out for her.”

“I’ll call Pretoria in the morning,” McAdams said.

“Let’s roll with that for a moment,” Decker said. “Angeline and Latham now have some original Nikolai Petroshkovich plates. What’s their next step?”

“To find a dealer,” Oliver said. “What about that Goddard guy you were talking to in Boston? The shootings happened right after you two came up to visit Summer Village.”

“What do you think?” Decker asked McAdams.

“Don’t like Goddard for the fence,” McAdams said. “The plates are too valuable to be sold as pretty works on paper. You need someone who specializes in Russian art.”

“Jason Merritt?” Decker asked.

“Kind of small stuff for him,” McAdams said. “I called him to ask about some items on his website as a prospective buyer for a fictitious museum. Like everything else in art, not all icons are alike. Some very old icons sell in the thousands. His icons are in the hundred-thousand-dollar range because they are very old and in very good shape.”

Oliver said, “Do you know if he deals in rare books?”

“No, I don’t know,” McAdams said. “Nothing like that is on his website.”

“But if something came his way?”

“The Petroshkovich book is worth about a hundred thousand intact. A single plate would be worth much less. I don’t see him selling anything like that. He’d have to know the plate was stolen.”

“Not even once?” Rina asked.

McAdams thought a moment. “He prides himself on being a reputable art dealer. Why would he buy a single plate or even two or three? He’d be risking everything to make a few bucks.”

“I still want to talk to him,” Decker said.

Rina said, “Even if Merritt doesn’t sell individual art plates, maybe someone in his gallery has a side business.”

McAdams raised his eyebrows. “That’s a thought.”

“I get them every once in a while,” Rina said.

“What about the guy who works there? Victor Geronimo or something like that?”

“Victor Gerrard.” Decker turned to Rina. “Want to come with us tomorrow, darling? You can assess Gerrard while we talk to Merritt.”

“Sure. I’ve got nothing to do.” Rina shook her head. “Other than luxuriate in this fabulous place.”

Decker said, “Let’s keep Schultz at the apartment, guarding Mrs. McAdams. Unless Oliver would like the job?”

“It’s tempting but since you asked me out here to help, I might as well deliver.”

Rina said, “What specifically would you like me to do?”

“Just be a good distraction.”

McAdams smiled, “No offense to Rina’s beauty, but in this case, I think I may be a better distraction.”

“Already thought of that and that’s why you’re coming, too.” Decker shrugged. “You can’t tell with these art dealers so I might as well cover all bases.”