“Hell,” I said. “I have no idea.”
And I turned and walked out of the office without closing the door. . . . That showed ’em.
7
Healy came into my office with two large coffees and a dozen doughnuts. He put one coffee on my desk and offered me a doughnut.
“A bribe?” I said.
“Authentic cop food,” Healy said.
“Oh, boy,” I said. “Two of these babies and I’ll run out and give somebody a ticket.”
“Thought I might come by this morning and compare notes,” Healy said.
“Which means you haven’t got much and you’re wondering if I do,” I said.
“You want the doughnuts or not,” Healy said.
“Okay,” I said. I took a significant bite. “I know nothing.”
“Lot of that going around,” Healy said.
“You talk to the museum people?” I said.
“Yep, Richards, the director, and his man Lloyd, the lawyer,” Healy said. “You?”
“Same two,” I said.
“And?”
“They wouldn’t tell me anything,” I said. “How’d you do.”
“No better,” Healy said. “And I’m a captain.”
“Did you tell them that?” I said.
“They seemed unimpressed.”
“You know who the insurance company is?”
“I did get that,” Healy said. “Shawmut.”
“Way to go, Captain.”
“Their home office is here,” Healy said. “Berkeley Street, corner of Columbus. Right up from you.”
“I know the building,” I said. “Got the name of an investigator or somebody?”
“They call them claim-resolution specialists.”
“Of course they do,” I said.
“Called over there,” Healy said. “They tell me the claims-resolution specialist has not yet been assigned.”
“Who’d you talk with,” I said.
“Head of claims resolution, woman named Winifred Minor.”
“How about Prince?” I said.
“Professor at Walford University,” Healy said. “Married, no kids, lived in Cambridge.”
“Cambridge,” I said. “There’s a surprise. You talk with the wife?”
“Distraught,” Healy said. “Doctor’s care. So no, we haven’t talked to her.”
“She use his name?” I said.
“She’s a poet,” Healy said.
“So she doesn’t use his name,” I said.
“No,” Healy said. “Her name is Rosalind Wellington.”
“Wow,” I said.
“You read a lot,” Healy said. “You ever heard of her?”
“No,” I said. “But maybe she doesn’t know who I am, either.”
“I’d bet on it,” Healy said.
“What about Prince?” I said. “Anything?”
“We interviewed some colleagues at Walford. Nobody seems to know much about him. Quiet guy, minded his own business.”
“Talk to students?”
“A few,” Healy said. “Ordinary teacher, easy grader, nothing remarkable.”
“How’d he end up consulting on the art theft?”
“I asked that question,” Healy said. “They were a little evasive, but it appears that Lawyer Lloyd recommended
