Mooner stood and ambled down the stairs. Moments later, he strolled back into the kitchen and took a handful of chips. “Don't know him,” he said, finishing his sandwich, eating his chips.
I wasn't nearly so calm. I don't like dead people, and I especially hated that someone was killed in Morelli's house. It felt unclean and scary and like the house had been violated.
Mooner had taken a lawn chair from Morelli's backyard and set it on the sidewalk in front of Morelli's house, so he could watch the homicide show in comfort. He had a can of soda in one hand and the potato chip bag in the other, and he was kicked back. There were several squad cars parked at angles on the street, plus the medical examiners meat wagon and a couple other assorted cop cars. A clump of uniforms stood by the meat wagon, talking and laughing. Morelli was on his porch, the front door to his house open behind him. He was talking to Rich Spanner, another homicide cop. Spanner had obviously caught the case. I knew him on a superficial level. He was an okay guy. He was a couple years older than Morelli and built like a barrel.
Just minutes ago, they'd carried the victim out in a zippered bag and stuffed him into the ME's truck. The crime lab guy was still inside, working.
I was leaning against my car, not wanting to be in the middle of all the police activity inside the house. Rich Spanner and Morelli concluded their conversation. Spanner left, and Morelli walked over to me.
“This is a frigging nightmare,” Morelli said.
“Did you know the dead guy?”
He shook his head. “Not personally. His name is Allen Gratelli. The address on his license was Lawrenceville. Spanner ran him through the system, and he has no priors. He worked for the cable company.”
“So what's his connection to you?”
“Don't know. Was he the guy who ran out of the basement the other night?”
“Could have been. Seemed like the right size, but I couldn't be sure. I don't recognize the name. Did Spanner know him?”
“No. No one knows him. He's nobody”
“Well, somebody knows him, because they killed him in your basement.”
“Let's review my life,” Morelli said. “I have crazy Dom shooting at me because he thinks I stole this house out from under him. I have his nephew living with me. I'm not sure why, except that he looks a little like me, and the kid's mother is missing. And in the last three days, I've had my house broken into twice and a guy killed in my basement. Did I miss anything?”
“Does Mooner count?”
“No.”
“Do you suppose there's a connection between all those people?” I asked him.
“Yeah, I do. And I think it's all related to the bank job. We know that four men participated in the robbery. Dom took the fall and the other three men were never identified, and the money was never recovered. I'm guessing when we dig around a little, we'll find out Dom knew Allen Gratelli.”
“And maybe Gratelli was involved in the robbery.”
“It would explain the hole in his head,” Morelli said.
“And maybe the money is hidden in your house!”
“It was a lot of money. They hauled it off in a van. More likely, a key or a clue to the location is hidden in the house.”
“We need to comb through the house.”
“Little by little, I've been making this house my own, and I've gotten rid of a bunch of things that belonged to Rose. A lot of the clutter has been tossed.”
“Yes, but a lot of it is still here. You never throw a key away. You still have your locker key from high school. If you found a key, you'd put it in one of your junk drawers.” I looked at my
watch. “I have to get Zook. When I come back we'll start looking.”
Stephanie Plum 14 - Fearless Forteen
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ZOOK settled himself onto the passenger seat and stared down at his shoes.
“Problems in school?” I asked him.