'Kenny didn't buy that gun on the street. He and Moogey were involved in the Braddock ammo rip-off. What was Kenny doing at Braddock? Where did he work?'
'He was a shipping clerk. He worked in the warehouse.'
'And the missing munitions were stored in the warehouse?'
'Actually they were stored in a compound adjacent to the warehouse, but Kenny had access to it.'
'Ah-ha!'
Morelli grinned. 'Don't get all wired over this. Kenny's working in the warehouse is hardly conclusive proof of guilt. Hundreds of soldiers have access to that warehouse. And as far as Kenny's affluence goes . . . he could be dealing drugs, betting on horses, or blackmailing Uncle Mario.'
'I think he was running guns.'
'I think so, too,' Morelli said.
'Do you know how he got the stuff out?'
'No. CID doesn't know either. It could all have gone out at once, or it could have trickled out over a period of time. No one checks inventory unless something is needed or, in this case, unless something turns up stolen. CID is conducting a background search on Kenny's army friends and coworkers in the warehouse. So far none of those people have been labeled suspects.'
'So where do we go from here?'
'Thought it might be helpful to talk to Ranger.'
I grabbed the phone off the kitchen counter and tapped out Ranger's number.
'Yo,' Ranger answered. 'This better be good.'
'It has potential,' I said. 'You free for lunch?'
'Big Jim's at twelve.'
'Going to be a threesome,' I told him. 'You and me and Morelli.'
'He there now?' Ranger wanted to know.
'Yeah.'
'You naked?'
'No.'
'Still early,' Ranger said.
I heard the disconnect, and I hung up.
When Morelli left I called Dillon Ruddick, the building superintendent, who was also an allaround good guy and friend. I explained my problem and about half an hour later, Dillon showed up with his trusty box of tools, a half gallon of paint, and assorted paint paraphernalia.
He went to work on the door, and I tackled the walls. It took three coats to cover the spray paint, but by eleven my apartment was threat free and had all new locks installed. I took a shower, scrubbed my teeth, dried my hair, and got dressed in jeans and black turtleneck.
I placed a call to my insurance company and reported the theft of my car. I was told my policy did not cover car rental and that payment would be made in thirty days if my car didn't turn up by then. I was doing some heavy sighing when my phone rang. Even before I touched the receiver the urge to scream told me it was my mother.
'Have you gotten your car back?' she asked.
'No.'
'Not to worry. We have it all figured out. You can use your uncle Sandor's car.' Uncle Sandor had gone into a
