Stephanie, lay out an extra plate.'
Morelli and I left the house at seven-thirty. He trailed after me in a tan panel van and parked in Stiva's lot when I pulled into the driveway.
I locked the Buick and walked over to Morelli. 'You have anything to tell me?'
'I went through invoices from the garage. The truck was in for an oil change at the end of the month. Bucky brought it in around seven in the morning and picked it up the next day.'
'Let me guess. Cubby Delio was gone that day. Moogey and Sandeman were working.'
'Yeah. Sandeman signed off on the job. His name was on the invoice.'
'Have you talked to Sandeman?'
'No. I got to the garage right after he left for the night. I checked his room and some bars, but I couldn't find him. Thought I'd make the rounds again later.'
'Did you find anything interesting in his room?'
'His door was locked.'
'You didn't look in through the window?'
'Thought I'd save that little adventure for you. I know how much you like to do that sort of thing.'
In other words, Morelli didn't want to get caught on the fire escape. 'You going to be here when I close up with Spiro?'
'Wild horses couldn't drag me away.'
I crossed the lot and entered the funeral home through the side door. Word of Kenny Mancuso's bizarre behavior was obviously spreading because Joe Loosey, minus his penis, was laid out in the V.I.P. room and the crowd packed into the room rivaled the record-breaking viewing held for Silvestor Bergen, who died in the middle of his term as grand poo-bah of the VFW.
Spiro was holding court on the far side of the lobby, cradling the arm injured in the line of duty, making the most of his role as undertaker celebre. People were clustered around him, listening intently as he told them God knows what.
A few people looked in my direction and whispered behind their memorial programs. Spiro bowed out on his audience and signaled me to follow him into the kitchen. He grabbed the big silver cookie plate on his way, ignoring Roche, who was once again positioned at the tea table.
'Do you believe this bunch of losers?' Spiro said, emptying a bag of bulk-bought supermarket cookies onto the plate. 'They're eating me out of house and home. I should be charging after-hours admission to see Loosey's Stump.'
'Anything new from Kenny?'
'Nothing. I think he's shot his wad. Which brings me to business at hand. I don't need you anymore.'
'Why the sudden change of heart?'
'Things have quieted down.'
'That's it?'
'Yeah. That's it.' He swung out the kitchen door with the cookies and slapped them down on the table. 'How're you doing?' he asked Roche. 'I see your brother's getting some overflow from Loosey. Probably a bunch of people going in there wondering about your brother's state of affairs, if you know what I mean. You notice I gave him a half- casket viewing tonight so no one could try copping a feel.'
Roche looked like he might choke. 'Thanks,' he said. 'Glad you're thinking ahead.' I went back to Morelli and gave him the news.
Morelli was lost in the shadows of the dark van. 'Sudden.'
'I think Kenny's got the guns. I think we gave Spiro a place to start looking, he passed it on to Kenny, and Kenny lucked out. And now the heat's off Spiro.'
