“You’re in the phone book,” Stone said.
“The cabinet shop is; I’m not. I’m dug in here. I’ve got a wife and a kid and a fine business; I don’t need to steal from people or kill them for money. Go talk to my banker.”
“I believe you,” Stone said.
Dino looked at him as if he were crazy.
“I don’t think anybody who built that study for Dick Stone, who knew him, could kill him.”
“Thank you,” Rhinehart said.
“Let’s go, Dino,” Stone said, standing up.
“You really think we’re done here?” Dino asked. They were all on their feet now.
“What’s your interest in Dick Stone?” Rhinehart asked, as they moved back into the shop and toward the front door.
“He was my first cousin.”
“I see.”
Stone looked around the shop. “My father was a cabinet and furniture maker in New York.”
Rhinehart looked thoughtful. “Not Malon Barrington?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen some of his work. He was as good as they come.”
Stone wondered if he’d seen that work in people’s homes, after breaking in. “You said you liked Dick?”
“I did. He was easy to work with, and he paid on time. He understood what we were doing for him and how good the work was.”
“Would you like to do something for Dick?” Stone asked.
“What could I do for him now?” Rhinehart asked, as they reached the front door.
“You could break into his house,” Stone said.
“What?”
“I want to know how hard it is. You know the place.”
“I know he has an elaborate security system,” Rhinehart said. “A bunch of guys from out of the state were just beginning to install it when we were finishing the study.”
“Will you come and take a look?” Stone said. “I’d really like your opinion; it might help me learn who killed Dick.”
“Since you put it that way,” Rhinehart said.
Stone shook his hand. “After work?”
“Around six.”
“See you then.” Stone led Dino out of the place.
Chapter 22
DINO WAS FUMING as they drove away from the cabinet shop. “Jesus, I’m glad you’re not a cop anymore. You’ve gone all squishy soft. We might have gotten something out of him.”