“Have we sold anything?” Charles asked, walking through the door.
“A Dostoevsky.”
“ Crime and Punishment?”
“Yes, sir.” Alice’s smile was stretched at its ends. “And you had a call. Mr. Abercrombie.”
“The man who bought Moby-Dick?”
“Yes, sir. I think he has a complaint about Angelo.”
“Is Angelo here?”
“Up in his room.”
“Thank you.”
“Alice said Mr. Abercrombie called?”
“He did,” Dorothy said. “I talked with him briefly, but he wanted you.”
“Was there a problem?”
“He said Angelo was touching things in his house.”
“I’ll talk to Angelo.”
“Angelo?”
“Hey, boss.” He was already back in his un-business clothes.
“How did it go?”
“That delivery? It was okay.”
“Any problems?”
“Does that man say there was problems?”
“I haven’t talked with him,” Charles said.
“There was no problems, boss.”
Charles looked into Angelo’s face for any reaction. There was none.
“Mrs. Beale talked to him-he called here. He told her you were touching things in his house.”
Silence.
“What kind of things did he have?”
“I didn’t touch anything, boss.”
“Did he have things by the door? How far in did you go?”
“I went in the door two steps. I did what you said to be nice.”
“Were there things close by?”
Angelo shrugged. “He had those little statue things and glass and metal.”
“Antiques. Or we could call them Art Objects.”
“Yeah, he had those.”
“Did you touch them?”
“I don’t touch nothing ever, boss.”
“Did he think you touched them?” Charles asked.
“Hey, boss, I don’t know what people think.”
“You really do know, though, don’t you? You could tell he was looking at you and you knew what was going through his mind, because you see it all the time. I’m sorry, Angelo, that Mr. Abercrombie was suspicious of you. If you say you didn’t touch anything, then I believe you.”
“You think what you want.”
“Maybe we could teach you to smile.”
Angelo scowled.
“What did he say?” Dorothy asked.
“He said he didn’t, and I believe him.”
“What about Mr. Abercrombie?”
“I suppose he saw what he thought he would see.”
“I hope Angelo isn’t scaring everyone.”
“At least he didn’t actually grab any of Mr. Abercrombie’s objets d’art and run them down to Mario the Fence in the back of the Italian restaurant. Or he could have just taken Moby-Dick to Mario in the first place.”
“He wouldn’t have.”
“No, he wouldn’t, since Mario only does jewelry and iPods. He’d have to know someone like Norman Highberg instead. All right, let me find Mr. Abercrombie’s telephone number.”
“I have it,” Dorothy said.
“I’ll call him and smooth the ruffled feathers. Oh, Dorothy, I actually got an expression on Angelo’s face.”
“What?”
“I suggested he learn to smile.”
Dorothy brightened. “And did he smile?”
“Not exactly.”
And did you have an interesting morning with Mr. Kelly?”
“It might be worth another croustade de veau braise.”