“We think they used a couple big duffel bags to bring him in. Hockey bags, maybe. Now that you've gotten over the gruesome part, the rest of the story is actually ingenious. Two guys, dressed in costume, carrying duffel bags and balloons, were seen entering the lobby and using the elevator. There were two tenants in the lobby at the tune. They said they assumed someone was getting one of those singing birthday presents. Mr. Kleinschmidt had turned eighty the week before, and someone sent him two strippers.”
“What sort of costume were these guys wearing?”
“One was a bear, and the other was a rabbit. No faces showing. About six foot tall, but hard to tell with the costume. We found the balloons in your closet. They took the bags back with them.”
“Did anyone see them leave?”
“No one in your building. We're still canvassing the neighborhood. We're checking on costume rentals, too. So far we haven't come up with anything.”
“It was Abruzzi. He was the one who left the snakes and the spiders. He was the one who put the cardboard cutout on my fire escape.”
“Can you prove it?”
“No.”
“That's the problem,” Morelli said. “And probably Abruzzi didn't personally dirty his hands.”
“There's a connection between Abruzzi and Soder. Abruzzi was the partner who took over the bar, right?”
“Soder lost his bar to Abruzzi because of a card game. Soder was playing some high stakes guys, and he needed money. He borrowed the money from Ziggy Zimmerli. And Zimmerli is owned by Abruzzi. Soder lost big time at the card game, couldn't repay the money he borrowed from Zimmerli, and Abruzzi took the bar.”
“So what's the deal with the bar burning down, and Soder getting shot?”
“I'm not sure. Probably the bar and Soder moved from the asset column to the liability column and were liquidated.”
“Did you pick up any prints in my apartment?”
“None that didn't belong there. With the exception of Ranger.”
“I work with him.”
“Yeah,” Morelli said. “I know.”
“I'm assuming Evelyn isn't a suspect,” I said.
“Anyone can hire a rabbit and a bear to chop a guy up,” Morelli said. “We aren't ruling anyone out yet.”
I picked at my croissant. Morelli had his cop face on, and it didn't give much away. Still, I had a feeling there was more. “Is there something you're not telling me?”
“There was a detail we're not releasing to the press,” Morelli said.
“A gruesome detail?”
“Yeah.”
“Let me make a guess. Soder's heart was ripped out.”
Morelli looked at me for a couple beats. “This guy is about as crazy as they come,” he finally said. “I'd like to protect you, but I don't know how. I could chain you to my wrist. Or I could lock you up in a closet in my house. Or you could pack off for an extended vacation. Unfortunately, I don't think you're going to agree to any of those things.”
Actually, I thought all of those options sounded kind of appealing. But Morelli was right, I couldn't agree to any of them.
Stephanie Plum 8 - Hard Eight
10
I TOOK ANOTHER sip of coffee and looked around the cafe. It had been nicely decorated with new black-and-white tile on the floor and round, wrought-iron soda fountain-style tables and chairs. Morelli and I were the only ones there. It took the Burg a while to warm up to new things.
“Thanks for being so nice to me last night,” I said to Morelli.