“Do you have any ideas about Dom's partners?” Morelli asked Mooch.
“There's been some talk lately about Stanley Zero. The fourth partner is a big mystery.”
The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't place him. “Who's Stanley Zero?”
“Football player,” Morelli said. “He was a couple years ahead of us. Probably in Dom's class. Not good enough to make pro and too dumb to get into college.”
“He's in construction,” Mooch said. “He does framing for Premier Homes. He's been working for them for years.”
“Why is he suddenly linked to the robbery?” I asked.
“I don't know,” Mooch said. “Hard to say how these things start going around. A guy shoots his mouth off in a bar, or talks to a girl, and next thing it's public.”
I looked at the cellar door. “Is Gary still down there?”
“No. He went home,” Morelli said.
“Kentucky?”
“No. Home here in Trenton. I'm not sure where that is. He said he had a headache. I imagine it was from listening to the jackhammer.”
“I got a headache, too,” Tiny said.
Morelli took the SUV keys from me. “I'm going to take Mooch and Tiny home. They can come back for the truck tomorrow. We need to finish carting the concrete chunks out anyway.”
Tiny was about a thousand pounds. I had no idea how Morelli was going to get him into the SUV, and if he did succeed, I had a mental image of the tires going flat.
“We're out of food,” I said to Morelli. “You need to stop on the way home and get something for supper.”
“This is getting expensive,” Morelli said. “I'm paying protection money to three guys so they don't destroy my home, and I'm feeding them. Plus, I've now got Mooch and Tiny on the payroll.”
“I had Connie run a check on Jelly,” I told Morelli. “He's driving an orange Corolla. I have the plate number, but I don't think you need it. How many orange Corollas are there in Trenton?”
“I'll watch for it,” Morelli said, herding Mooch and Tiny through the house and out the door.
Miraculously, Morelli got Tiny into the SUV and the tires didn't buckle. I watched them drive away, and I called Ranger. I wanted information on Stanley Zero, and Connie only worked a half day on Saturday.
“Babe,” Ranger said.
“I need information on Stanley Zero. Place of residence, car, anything personal... like friends, wife, whatever.”
“How do you want it? Can I e-mail it to you?”
“No. I'm at Morelli's house. I don't have my computer.”
“I can send it to Morelli.”
“That would work. How's Tank doing?”
“He's distracted.”
“Why doesn't he just break it off?”
“The man is confused,” Ranger said. “Sometimes it's difficult to tell what you want to do with a woman.”
“Are you speaking about yourself?”
“No. I know exactly what I want to do.”