Decker switched his cell to the other ear. “That’s amazing!” It was eight in the morning and he only knew it was Tuesday because of his watch. The days seemed endless and he needed something external to keep him grounded. He was finishing his continental breakfast of orange juice, tea, and a croissant and jam when he got the call. The table was set with fine china. He was balancing a scalloped coffee cup with one hand and the phone with the other. He tried not to drop anything. “What’s inside?” “That’s the bad part. The place had been cleaned out except for one lone key.” “A key?” “Yes, a key.” Decker sighed. “I already know the answer but any idea what it’s for?” “I wish. No identification other than the lock is a Schlage. But it wasn’t randomly left behind. It was jammed into a corner and taped to the wall. If Latham was dealing in stolen art, I’m thinking he took his hot merchandise elsewhere.”
