'I want to look at those rooms.'
Spiro glanced at his watch. 'You're going to have to wait until hours are over. I can't leave these ghouls unsupervised. You get a big crowd like this, and people start walking off with souvenirs. You don't watch the door, and you could loose the shirt off your back.'
'I don't need a guide. Just give me the key.'
'Forget it. I'm liable when there's a stiff on the table. I'm not taking any chances after Loosey.'
'Where's Louie?'
'Has the day off.'
I went out onto the front porch and stared across the street. The windows in the surveillance apartment were dark. Roche was probably there, listening and looking. Maybe Morelli was there, too. I was worried about Grandma Mazur, but I wasn't ready to drag Morelli into it. Better to let him watch the exterior of the building, for now. I stepped off the porch and made my way to the side entrance. I scanned the parking lot and continued on to the garages at the rear, cupping my hands to see through the tinted hearse windows, examining the bed of the open- backed flower car, knocking on the trunk lid to Spiro's Lincoln.
The door to the cellar was locked, but the service door to the kitchen was open. I let myself in and did another run- through of the house, trying the door to the work-rooms and finding it sealed tight, as promised.
I slipped into Spiro's office and used his phone to call home.
'Is Grandma Mazur there?' I asked my mother.
'Oh my God,' my mother said. 'You've lost your grandmother. Where are you?'
'I'm at the funeral parlor. I'm sure Grandma is here somewhere. It's just that there's a crush of people, and I'm having a hard time finding her.'
'She isn't here.'
'If she shows up, call me at Stiva's.'
I dialed Ranger next and told him my problem, and that I might need help. I went back to Spiro and told him if he didn't give me a tour of the embalming room I'd zing some electricity into his worthless hide. He thought about it for a moment, whirled on his heel, and stalked past the viewing rooms. He threw the hal door open with a crash and snapped back at me to make it fast.
As if I'd want to dawdle over Fred Dagusto.
'She isn't here,' I said, returning to Spiro, who was straddling the doorjamb, keeping an eagle eye out for unusual bulges in overcoats that might indicate a mourner was absconding with a stolen roll of toilet paper.
'Yeah, right,' he said. 'Big surprise.'
'The only place I haven't looked is the basement.'
'She isn't in the basement. The door is locked. Just like this one was locked.'
'I want to see.'
'Listen,' Spiro said. 'She's probably gone off with some other old broad. She's probably at some diner, driving some poor waitress nuts.'
'Let me into the cellar, and I swear I won't bother you anymore.'
'That's a cheery thought.'
An old man clapped a hand on Spiro's shoulder. 'How's Con doing? He outta the hospital yet?'
'Yeah,' Spiro said, brushing past. 'He's out of the hospital. He'l be back to work next week. Monday.'
'Bet you'l be happy to see him come back.'
'Yeah, I'm jumping for joy just thinking about it.'
Spiro crossed to the other side of the lobby, slithering between knots of people, ignoring some, toadying up to
