“Spiro said it was Kenny Mancuso that shot Moogey Bues.”
“You know what Kenny looks like? He ever come around here?”
“I know what he looks like, but I haven't seen him in a while. I hear people say how you're a bounty hunter, and that you're looking for Kenny.”
“He failed to appear in court.”
“If I see him I'll tell you.”
I gave him a card. “Here are some numbers where I can be reached.”
The back door banged open and was slammed closed. A moment later Spiro stalked into the room. His black dress shoes and the cuffs of his slacks were powdered with ash. His cheeks were an unhealthy red, and his little rodent eyes were dilated black.
“Well?” I asked.
His eyes fixed over my shoulder. I turned and saw Morelli cross the lobby.
“You looking for someone?” Spiro said to Morelli. “Radiewski's in the addition.”
Morelli flashed his badge.
“I know who you are,” Spiro said. “There a problem here? I leave for a half-hour, and I come back to a problem.”
“Not a problem,” Morelli told him. “Just trying to find the owner of some caskets that burned.”
“You found him. And I didn't set the fire. The caskets were stolen from me.”
“Did you report the theft to the police?”
“I didn't want the publicity. I hired Ms. Marvel here to find the damn things.”
“The one casket that was left looked a little plain for a burg casket,” Morelli said.
“I got them on sale from the army. Surplus. I was thinking maybe I'd franchise out into other neighborhoods. Maybe take them down to Philly. Lot of poor people in Philly.”
“I'm curious about this army surplus stuff,” Morelli said. “How does this work?”
“You submit a bid to the DRMO. If the bid gets picked up, you've got a week to haul your shit off the base.”
“Which base are we talking about?”
“Braddock.”
Morelli was a study of calm. “Wasn't Kenny Mancuso stationed at Braddock?”
“Yeah. A lot of people are stationed at Braddock.”
“Okay,” Morelli said, “so they accept your bid. How do you get the caskets back here?”
“Me and Moogey went down with a U-Haul.”
“One last question,” Morelli said. “You have any idea why someone would steal your caskets and then set a match to them?”
“Yeah. They were stolen by a nut. I've got things to do,” Spiro said. “You're done here, right?”
“For now.”
They locked eyes, a muscle worked in Spiro's jaw, and he wheeled off to his office.