“I don’t suppose you know where Percy might be found,” Singh said.
“I told you already that I don’t. He said he’d flown in from Scotland recently. That’s all I know.”
“But you saw him in the shop before, the day you went to look at the desk I believe you said.”
“Yes. Is he a suspect?”
“We have only your word that he exists,” Singh said. “But on the assumption your story is true, he would of course be of interest to us. You did say he was there when you got there?”
“Yes.” I was certain Percy hadn’t killed Trevor. He was such a timid-looking man. Furthermore, killing Trevor wasn’t going to get his Granny’s writing cabinet back. I hadn’t seen him at the party either, so how would he have known about the axe business, and how would he get the axe? I said none of this to Singh.
“Did you see Wylie socially?” Singh asked.
“There’s a bunch of shop owners in the neighborhood who get together for drinks from time to time, maybe once a month. We talk about issues affecting the area and whine about business and stuff. Both Trevor and I are, were, part of it. Trevor liked The Dwarfie Stane. It’s a bar named for some tomb in Scotland. Maybe you know it. It’s the place that has a hundred different single malt scotches, or something like that. We often get together there. Trevor was working his way through all one hundred. Other than that, I’d see him every now and then at parties. We had some clients in common.”
“Did you like Wylie?”
“He was very charming,” I said. “And I liked him well enough up until that cabinet turned out to be a fake.”
“About this friendly little note Trevor left for you,” Singh said. “What did you think the note meant?”
“I have no idea. I thought he was just being a jerk.”
“Wylie could be a jerk, could he?”
“I thought so.”
“But you spent a lot of time with him.”
“No, I didn’t. I told you already that I saw him only occasionally.”
“Your fingerprints are on every piece of furniture in the place.”
“I was looking for him.”
“In the furniture?”
“Yes, in the furniture. I thought he was hiding from me.”
“You didn’t by any chance receive a—what shall we call it?—a commission on the sale of this desk?”
“I did not!” I said.
“Would you not perhaps have felt entitled to a… um… commission? It was on your say so that Baldwin bought the desk.”
“I did not bring Baldwin to Trevor. Trevor called him all by himself. If there were to be a finder’s fee, it would only be paid if I brought Baldwin to Trevor. Even then, I would not have asked for a commission. Baldwin was a good client. He asked for my help from time to time, and I gave it, free.”
“I guess it was worth what he paid for it,” Singh said. I took that to be payback for my remark about the lack of arrests, and I suppose I deserved it. “So no discreet palming of an envelope filled with cash? A little undeclared and therefore tax-free income?” he said. “If so, I’d report it now if I were you.”
“There was absolutely no commission, tax-free or otherwise,” I said. “Nor was it expected.”
“You have received nothing of any sort from Wylie?”
“I have not.”
“Assuming what you say is true, you must have been just a little annoyed with Wylie yourself.”
“I was,” I said. “But I don’t axe people, if that is what you are implying. Do I need my lawyer?”
“Up to you.”
“You know what?” I said, rising from my chair. “I don’t believe you can keep me here, and I’m tired of all these questions that imply I am a murderer, a liar, or a thief. So let’s just say this discussion is over.”
“Please sit down,” he said. “Nobody is accusing you of anything. Did anyone else see this Percy?”
“There was just the two of us there. Blair might remember him because he was there when Blair and I first went to look at the cabinet. Just a minute: there was another person there, too, that first time, a rather unlikely-looking person to be interested in antiques. He had a big dog, a Doberman.”
“A Doberman? Was this strange-looking person about the same height as the dog and maybe as wide?”
“Yes,” I said. “You know him?”
“I might,” Singh said. “You do meet the most unusual people.” He made a note on the pad in front of him. “If this man with the dog is who I think it is, then you really keep bad company, Ms. McClintoch.”
“I wasn’t the one keeping company with this person,” I said.
“I suppose,” he said.
“I’m leaving now,” I said rising from my chair and heading for the door.
“I require some of that free advice of yours,” he said to my back.
“I guess whatever advice I’d give you will be worth what you pay for it then,” I retorted, but I stopped my retreat.
“There is no record of a transaction between Baldwin and Wylie,” Singh continued.
“What are you saying?” I said.
“I’m saying it’s not just Percy that’s missing. No check has cleared Baldwin’s bank accounts, at least not the bank accounts we know about, nor has there been a significant deposit in the order of magnitude we’re talking about here, in Wylie’s. There isn’t a credit card transaction on any of the cards we can find for Baldwin either. Wylie had about eighty dollars on him when he died. We’ve searched his house and the shop. No cash.”
“So if Baldwin hadn’t yet paid for it, why did he get so annoyed about the fake?” I asked. “Or are you saying he had other accounts, offshore or something?”
“I need you to go with one of my forensics people to look at Wylie’s records,” he said. I said nothing. There was obviously no point in asking a question, because Singh had already demonstrated he wasn’t for answering any of them. “Forensic accountant, that is,” he added.
“Baldwin couldn’t have paid cash, could he?” I said. “That’s what you were getting at when you asked how Blair paid for merchandise. It would be way too much.”
“We need you to identify the records pertaining to this desk thing. We can’t find any record for it, either.”
“It’s probably not called a desk,” I said.
“That would be why we need your help,” Singh said. “You cannot be compelled to assist, but perhaps you might like to do so.”
“I might not,” I said.
“My mistake,” he said. “I assumed given your relationship with a fellow law enforcement professional…”
“What has my relationship with Rob Luczka have to do with it?” But he had me. I could hear Rob’s speech now, something along the lines of how honest citizens needed to come forward to assist police in their investigations or we would all go to hell in a hand basket or something. “Okay,” I said. “When?”
“How about right now?” Singh said.
About thirty minutes later I found myself sitting once again at Trevor’s desk, going through his papers. This time I wasn’t snooping, or rather I was now snooping officially, in the company of a policewoman by the name of Anna Chan. Chan was an accountant as well as a police officer, and she struck me as rather good at both.
“I can’t find any reference to a desk in these documents,” she said.
“That’s because it’s a writing cabinet,” I said. “Or rather it was a writing cabinet. A desk, well, we all know what a desk is. A writing cabinet has doors that you open to reveal the work surface and the drawers. This one had beautiful inlaid work, leaded glass. It was really lovely. So we’d be looking for a different listing.”
“So can you find it?” she asked.
The office looked pretty much the way it had when I’d left it to find the elusive Percy upstairs. I handed Anna the relevant files right away. I had, after all, been looking at them before.