Эд Макбейн - Jigsaw

“How much later was this?”

“A week or so. As soon as Alice Bonamico’s will was filed in Surrogate’s Court. It was a very interesting will. Aside from leaving her entire estate to her sister Lucia, it also left her, and I quote, ‘Certain mementos, documents, photographs, and photographic segments considered to be of value by the deceased.’ I immediately got on my horse and went to visit Lucia Feroglio in Calm’s Point.”

“This was two months ago?”

“Right. The third day of April. A Friday. Lucia Feroglio is an old lady in her seventies, memory failing, barely speaking English, partially deaf. You ever try to talk to a deaf woman?”

Carella said nothing.

“Anyway, I talked to her. I convinced her that her brother-inlaw had taken out a very small policy on his wife’s life, naming Lucia Feroglio as beneficiary, and that a check for one thousand dollars would be issued to her as soon as the conditions of the policy were met. I invented the conditions, of course.”

“What were they?”

“That she satisfy my company that she was indeed in possession of the ‘Certain mementos, documents, photographs, and photographic segments considered to be of value by the deceased.’ Even deaf old ladies who hardly speak English can understand a thousand dollars. She patiently went through all the crap her sister had left her — family pictures, birth certificates, even the caul Alice had been born with, carefully wrapped in a square of pink satin; that’s supposed to be good luck, you know, if you’re born with a caul. And in the midst of all this crap was exactly what I hoped would be there.”

“Which was?”

“A list of names. Or at least a partial list of names. And a piece of a photograph.” Krutch paused. “Would you like to see them?”

“Yes,” Carella said.

Krutch opened his dispatch case. Resting on top of a sheaf of Trans-American claim forms was a legal-sized white envelope. Krutch opened the envelope and took out a scrap of paper. He put it on the desktop, and both detectives looked at it.

“Those names are in Carmine Bonamico’s handwriting,” Krutch said. “I’m quite familiar with it.”

“Seven of them,” Carella said.

“Or maybe more,” Krutch answered. “As you can see, the list is torn.”

“How’d it get torn?”

“I don’t know. That’s the way Lucia turned it over to me. It may have been accidentally damaged, or another piece of it may be in someone else’s hands. Considering what Bonamico did with the photograph, that’s a likely possibility.”

“Let’s see the picture,” Carella said.

Krutch dipped into the envelope again. He took out a piece of a glossy photograph and put it on the desktop, alongside the scrap they had found clutched in Ehrbach’s hand.

“How do we know these are pieces of the same photograph?” Carella asked.

“They’re both cut like a jigsaw puzzle,” Krutch said. “That can’t be accidental. Nor can it be accidental that you found your piece in the hand of one of the men listed here in Bonamico’s handwriting. Or that the other dead man is also on the list.” Krutch paused. “Ehrbach’s a better burglar than I am. I’ve been in and out of Renninger’s place a dozen times in the past two months, and I never found a thing.”

“You’re admitting to breaking and entry, Mr. Krutch?”

“Shall I send for my lawyer?” Krutch asked, and grinned.

“Did you shake down Ehrbach’s place as well?”

“I did. And found nothing. His piece is probably as carefully hidden as Renninger’s was.”

Carella looked at the list again. “Who’s Albert Weinberg?”

“One of Stein’s close buddies. Jerry Stein, the kid who drove the getaway car. Beginning to make sense?”

“Not much.”

“Weinberg’s a hood in his own right. So are the other two, in case you don’t already know.”

“Which other two?”

“Renninger and Ehrbach. Renninger was busted eight years ago for pushing junk. He was in Caramoor at the time of the holdup, got out of prison only two years ago. Ehrbach was busted twice for burglary, one more time and they’d have thrown away the key. Makes the risk he took seem even more meaningful, doesn’t it? He was taking the chance of a third fall, and for what? Unless that picture means something, he was a goddamn fool to break into Renninger’s place.”

“You’re better than the IB,” Brown said. “Assuming this is straight goods.”

“As I told you,” Krutch said, smiling, “my facts are always correct.”

“What about the other names on this list?”

“I’ve been through the telephone book a hundred times. You know how many Geraldines there are? Don’t ask. As for Dorothy, she could be Dorothy Anybody. And the R-o-b? That could be Robert, or Roberta, or Robin, or even Robespierre, who knows? It was easy to fill in the ‘Renninger’ because the name was almost complete. And I doped out the ‘Ehrbach’ because of the ‘Eugene E.’ They’re both listed in the Isola directory. Alice is Alice Bonamico, of course. But I have no idea who the others are, and no idea whether there are more than seven. I hope not. Seven pieces of a puzzle are more than enough.”

“And when you assemble this puzzle, Mr. Krutch, what then?”

“When I assemble this puzzle,” Krutch said, “I will have the exact location of the seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars stolen from NSLA six years ago.”

“How do you know that?”

“Lucia Feroglio told me. Oh, it took some time to get it out of her, believe me. As I told you, her memory is failing, and she’s partially deaf, and her English is of the Mama mia variety. But she finally remembered that her sister had told her the photograph showed where the treasure was. That was the exact word she used. Treasure.”

“She said that in English?” Carella asked. “She said ‘treasure’?”

“No. She said tesoro. In Italian.”

“Maybe she was only calling you ‘darling,’ “ Carella said.

“I doubt it.”

“You speak Italian, do you?”

“A girlfriend of mine told me what it meant. Tesoro. Treasure.”

“So now there are two pieces,” Brown said. “What do you want from us?”

“I want you to help me find the other five pieces. Or however many more there are.” Krutch smiled. “I’m getting too well known, you see. Toward the end there, both Renninger and Ehrbach knew I was on to them. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ehrbach got to Renninger merely by tailing me.”

“You make it sound very complicated, Mr. Krutch.”

“It is complicated. I’m sure that Weinberg knows I’ve been watching him, too. And frankly, I can’t risk getting busted on a burglary rap. Which might happen if I keep breaking into places.” He smiled again. The smile had lost none of its dazzle.

“So you want us to break into places for you, huh?”

“It’s been done before.”

“It’s against the law, even for cops.”

“Lots of things are against the law. There’s seven hundred and fifty G’s involved here. I’m sure the 87th wouldn’t mind locating it. Be quite a feather in your cap, after all these years.”

“Yes, it might be,” Carella said.

“So do it,” Krutch said simply.

“Do what ?” Brown asked.

“First of all, go over Ehrbach’s place with a fine comb. You can do that legally. He’s the victim of a homicide, and you’re conducting an investigation.”