High Rhymes and Misdemeanors Page 16

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  They did not expect to find anything, Peter thought, and that was all that saved him.

  They did not like anonymous phone calls, but they were conscientious and thorough. He watched them opening cupboard doors and checking in cabinets, even looking down the neck of a man-sized Satsuma vase. When the constable lifted the lid of a fan-shaped Yixing teapot, Peter could not restrain himself.

  “Are you searching for bodies or bargains? Because I’ve a business to run here, and it seems only fair to let the other shoppers in.”

  The youthful constable blushed.

  “What’s in this room, Mr. Fox?” asked Chief Constable Heron.

  “It’s the stockroom. I store all my murder victims there.”

  “No need for sarcasm, sir.”

  Peter followed them into the stockroom, watching them poke around. His nerves tightened as the constable glanced over the shelf in front of the passageway, nearly knocking over an art deco figurine. Peter had learned the hard way how to conceal his feelings. He swallowed over the rock in his throat and remarked, “You break it, you buy it.”

  The constable and his chief exchanged looks, having seen some of the price tags in Rogue’s Gallery.

  Some more poking and prying, and then at last Chief Constable Heron said, “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Fox.”

  “Satisfied?”

  The older man eyed him levelly. “No sir. That I am not. Not by a long shot.”