He made a left onto Skinner Street. “Can't. The guy I borrowed the van from has my truck.”
“The undercover pig car?”
“Being fixed.” He hooked onto Greenwood. “We'll use the Buick.”
Suddenly I had a new appreciation for the Buick.
Morelli pulled up behind Big Blue, and I had the door open and my foot to the pavement while the van was still rolling. I stood outside in the crisp air, breathing deep, flapping my arms and shaking my head to rid myself of any residual stench.
We got into the Buick together and sat there for a moment appreciating the lack of odor.
I rolled the engine over. “It's eleven o'clock. You want to go straight to Spiro's apartment, or do you want to try the funeral home?”
“Funeral home. I spoke to Roche just before you got out of the shower, and Spiro was still in his office.”
The lot was empty when I got to Stiva's. There were several cars on the street. None looked occupied. “Where's Roche?”
“Apartment across the street. Over the deli.”
“He can't see the back entrance from there.”
“True, but the exterior lights work on motion sensors. If someone approaches the back door the lights will go on.”
“I imagine Spiro can disengage that.”
Morelli slouched in his seat. “There's no good vantage point for watching the back door. If Roche was sitting in the parking lot, he still couldn't see the back door.”
Spiro's Lincoln was parked in the drive-through. The light was on in Spiro's office.
I eased the Buick to the curb and cut the engine. “He's working late. Usually he's out of here by now.”
“You have your cell phone with you?”
I gave him the phone, and he tapped in a number.
Someone responded on the other end, and Morelli asked if anyone was home. I didn't hear the response. Morelli ended the call and returned the phone.
“Spiro's still there. Roche hasn't seen anyone go in since the doors closed at ten.”
We were parked on a side street, beyond the reach of the streetlight. The side street was lined with modest row houses. Most were dark. The burg was an early-to-bed, early-to-rise community.
Morelli and I sat there in comfortable silence for half an hour, watching the funeral home. Just a couple of old law enforcement partners doing their job.
Twelve o'clock rolled around. Nothing had changed, and I was feeling antsy. “There's something wrong with this,” I said. “Spiro never stays this late. He likes money when it comes easy. He's not the conscientious type.”
“Maybe he's waiting for someone.”
I had my hand on the door handle. “I'm going to snoop around.”
“NO!”
“I want to see if the back sensors are working.”
“You'll screw everything up. You'll spook Kenny if he's out there.”
“Maybe Spiro shut the sensors off, and Kenny's already in the house.”
“He's not.”