We rounded the corner and reached a three-story brick building with a row of police cars parked in front. Zeke drove around the block until we found a place to park under the shade of an oak tree. He rolled up his window and took the keys from the ignition.
‘I’m here to fix the business I left unfinished three-and-a-half years ago. After that, we are going to leave and – with luck – never come back.’
We were interrupted by an obnoxious rapping on the driver’s side window. Zeke opened the door and got out of the car. The girl who stood outside moved in to hug him, but he managed to turn his back on her as he opened the back door and took his cane out of the back seat. I got out myself, even though I knew that Zeke would have preferred to come around to open the door for me. We moved toward each other and met by the trunk, the woman following at Zeke’s heels.
‘Hello, Sophie,’ Zeke said. ‘I’d like you to meet my wife, Sarah. Sarah, Sophie Winslow.’ Sophie Winslow reminded me of an elf – a mean elf, but an elf nonetheless. She had a pointed nose and big brown eyes which gazed at me with a fair measure of malice. She wore trousers with sturdy walking shoes. Above the waist, she was dressed in a blouse with a collar made of fine lace. A strand of good pearls encircled her long neck.
‘Hello.’ She all but ignored me and spoke to Zeke. ‘The cane makes you distinguished, darling,’ she said.
Zeke moved next to me and enfolded me in the arm that wasn’t holding the cane.
‘So is this the new wife?’ Sophie smiled as she said this, aware of my discomfort and taking pleasure in it. ‘She’s had her name in all the papers, I hear.’
‘Sophie, when are you going to grow up?’
‘I am grown up, darling, and if you stick around long enough, you might discover that for yourself.’ She changed the subject. ‘Daphne’s planned a little reception for you tomorrow night. Mother expects you to come to the house at some point for cocktails and gossip. She’ll want to get a look at Sarah, of course. They all will.’ She faced me. ‘You’ve brought proper clothes?’ She didn’t give me a chance to answer. ‘Never mind. Daphne will help you. She always helps the underdog. God knows, she has a closet full of clothes that she will never wear.’
Sophie didn’t give either one of us room to get a word in.
‘Okay, darlings. Got to run. Kiss, kiss.’ She hurried off, spry and quick, leaving a vacuum of silence in her wake.
‘That is Daphne’s little sister,’ Zeke said, as we walked through the blazing heat. ‘Don’t mind her. She’s a little fool.’
More like a cunning fox. I forced a smile. Zeke held the door for me, and we walked into the police station.
* * *
A dark-haired man with a haggard face and tired eyes waited for us in the lobby. He didn’t have a drop of sweat on him, despite the long-sleeved shirt. I didn’t notice his missing arm until he pushed away from the wall. The desk sergeant, an older man whose face resembled a bulldog, looked on as Wade Connor’s brother and Zeke’s childhood friend, Joe, greeted us.
‘Welcome, Sarah. I’m so glad to meet you.’ Joe Connor had a warm smile and an easygoing way about him.
‘How are you holding up?’ Zeke asked, as he and Joe shook hands.
‘No more boxing for me, but I’m managing. I tell myself to be grateful that I only lost an arm. Others fared much worse, believe me. What happened to the leg?’
‘No more boxing for me either. One of your brother’s operations went awry.’
‘You should get one of those canes with a sword on the inside,’ Joe smiled. ‘Come on. Let’s go to my office so we can talk.’
We followed Joe down a corridor of smoked glass doors with the names etched in gold letters on the outside. We stopped before one that said ‘Detective Joseph Connor’.
‘Impressive.’ Zeke ran his fingers over the gold lettering.
‘I’m glad you’ve come back, Zeke. I’m sorry about Hendrik Shrader and that you and Sarah are in danger, but something’s happened …’ Joe hesitated.
‘Out with it, Joe. What’s he done?’
We followed Joe into his office.
‘There have been a series of jewel heists in Millport. The thief – or thieves if you believe some people – targets the Millport elite. Initially the robberies occurred when no one was home. That, among other things, has led us to believe that whoever is doing these robberies is on familiar terms with the victims.’
A large map took up almost an entire wall, complete with pins with red flags, which were stuck in random places.
Joe opened a file cabinet and took out a stack of files. He reached inside one of them and handed Zeke a bunch of photos in various shapes and sizes.
‘Things have escalated lately. The burglar is taking more risks and has been entering the houses while people are there, usually while they are sleeping. He climbed up the Donaldsons’ drainpipe and stole Mrs Donaldson’s jewelry box, right out from under her nose.’
We thumbed through a stack of photographs, all depicting jewelry – diamond necklaces, earrings, bracelets, pearls – and a large quantity of sterling. The burglar had hit the motherload.
I moved over to the map on the wall.
‘I’ve put pins where the robberies have taken place. I was desperate to try something. As you can see, the victims are all concentrated in that eight-mile circumference. This guy is physically fit. He’s nimble, which also leads me to believe that he doesn’t live here. All the usual suspects enlisted and are no longer in Millport. So we’re looking for an outsider, which should help.’
‘Are you saying that Millport has a cat burglar?’ Zeke said.
‘Yes,’ Joe said.
‘Press?’ Zeke asked.
‘Haven’t gotten a hold of it yet,’ Joe said. ‘But it’s just a matter of time. The victims don’t want their names made public, and the various insurance companies are eager to recover the jewels so they don’t have to pay the claims. It’s a nightmare and of course, no one is happy with my efforts.’
‘Surely you don’t think my brother has been climbing into people’s homes and stealing their valuables?’
‘He’s recently paid off a large gambling debt. Where did he get the money? He won’t tell me. I’ve asked him repeatedly. There are some who believe that I am not objective because of my connection to your family. You know as well as I do that Simon has been headed for trouble.’
‘That doesn’t mean he has the emeralds, or that he had anything to do with Rachel’s death.’
‘I realize that. But an emerald turns up and all of a sudden Simon has the money to pay off his sizable gambling debts. The newspapers haven’t yet discovered that one of the emeralds has turned up. But they will. Everyone in town knows. Conclusions have been drawn. I will keep you informed as to what’s going on. You’re home now. We’ll sort this out. As for the other thing, I’ve spoken to Wade. A few of us in the department know what’s going on. If anyone comes after you, we’ll soon know about it.’
‘Who discovered the emerald in Portland?’
‘My father. Since he retired, he’s been obsessed with Rachel’s case. He claims that he will solve her murder before he dies, and if he doesn’t, he’ll come back from the grave to see justice done.’
‘Do you