Reception referred Theo and Dorland to a room three doors down the hall, an office with three desks and a large boardroom table in the middle. Two men, who stood over the oval table in the middle of the room, stared at Theo and Dorland as they entered.

Theo approached a man with long black hair that was tied back with a thick yellow elastic.

“Do you work with Sharon Yoder?”

“Yes, but she hasn’t arrived yet. I’m Mackenzie, Ralph Mackenzie, and this is Eduardo Demas. We have just come back from an overseas trip to Ohio. Is there something I can help you with?”

Eduardo, who had two pencils sticking out from behind his ears, came forward and shook their hands.

Dorland took out his warrant card and showed the two men. Mr. Demas took the card from Dorland and looked closely at it. “I have never seen one of these before, not in real life that is. Why are you looking for Sharon?”

“We have some sad news,” replied Theo. “Ms. Yoder was stabbed to death last Saturday in her flat.”

“What? No, that’s insane. That’s not possible. Who did it?”

“We’re still investigating. We were hoping the two of you would have more information.”

The two men looked at each other but didn’t say anything. Mr. Mackenzie sat down.

“What does Ms. Yoder do here?” asked Theo.

“She managed our insurance bonds policies. It is much more complicated than that but it was nothing dangerous. She never even dealt with the clients. In fact, as far as I knew, she really liked her job, worked here six days a week, including some Sundays; she liked to get a jump start on her week.”

“But she didn’t work here this past Saturday?” asked Theo.

“No, because we were traveling. She had to put in some long hours before we left so I think she was looking forward to the few days off.”

“So, in general, she got on with her co-workers?”

“Yes,” replied Mackenzie.

“Could she have discovered something that could have put her life in jeopardy?”

“No, there is nothing of that here. Everything has to be above board for our shareholders. I mean, of course she could have stumbled upon something. Maybe she caught two co-workers in some sort of extracurricular activity, if you know what I mean. But really she came to work, did work, and went home.”

“That being said,” Theo remarked, “There must be a reason why someone would stab her at her door.”

“Do you expect me to know this? What makes you think that it had anything to do with this company? She could have had problems with a boyfriend or lover or spouse, whomever she chose for company. I have seen her in the hall; she never seems to be unhappy about work. If you think that you will find the answer here, in this company, I think you are mistaken.”

“You don’t mind if we take surveillance camera footage of the last two or three days before her death?”

They took the footage, three days’ worth, and Dorland dropped Theo at his house so he could shower and change clothes. While he did this, Dorland sat down in front of Theo’s television and started watching the movements of hallway one.

When Theo finished, Dorland showed him Sharon’s first appearance on screen—Wednesday at 8:30—and she smiled at two men who passed her. As he sped through day one, he caught sight of her in her short skirt and tight top entering and exiting her office repeatedly. Three times with a coffee cup, twice with her mobile, once empty handed, and with her briefcase at the end of the day.

If she had an enemy at work, it wasn’t apparent from the footage.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Theo ran his hand over his tie as he looked in the mirror. He was getting thinner and his wide tie made him look like a toothpick. For the life of him, he didn’t know why he was attending. An auction? He didn’t know the first thing about auctions.

“Why are you so dressed up?” his wife said behind him.

“The auction, remember I told you about it?” He looked at her through the mirror. He had invited her but she turned him down. She thought it would be boring.

“Are you angry I didn’t want to go?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“Are you going to be buying one of those weird . . .” she searched for the word.

“No, dear, I don’t think my mother would appreciate the gesture. She’d insist on taking it apart and re-working the bathroom sink with the tiles. ‘It’s just wasteful to see tile on the wall of the living room,’ she would say. Besides, where would she hang it? There are enough framed family portraits on the wall already.”

He pointed into the mirror. “What do you think of my tie?”

“I like your light green one,” she offered. “This one makes you look like you’re going to give a lecture at a university. Would you like me to get your tie?” She didn’t wait for his response, walking to the closet and rifling through his clothes. “Where do you keep them?”

Theo pointed to his sock drawer. “I just roll them up and put them in there.” She opened the top drawer and pulled out the green tie.

“So what are your plans for the evening?”

“Your sister is taking me shopping,” she replied. “I’m taking the card you gave me to buy things. I’ve practiced my old signature, so I’ll be able to use it.”

“I should just get you a new one and you can re-sign it.”

“Nah, that’s all right, I don’t mind.”

He walked into the auction house about four. There were many people already gathered in the small room filled with chairs and a small podium at the front. He was handed a booklet and a number He considered refusing it because he knew he wasn’t going to buy anything. He looked around the room for anyone he knew but chances were slim.

He wandered to the viewing area. The most popular pieces were surrounded by people. Apparently another dead artist that worked with bronze was the main attraction of the night. Tipring’s art sat in a corner. No one even gave them a glance.

In the very last row, he chose a seat between two empty chairs and placed his booklet on a seat beside him—few came alone so he figured it was the best way to have a spot by himself. People were relatively quiet. There were a few whispers about various paintings and other collectibles placed in lots. He smiled at the older woman that sat two seats down. Her book was open and she lightly tapped the picture of a lamp. He supposed that was what she planned to bid on. She did not smile back.

Tipring’s paintings were near the end of the auction. He was hoping some of Doc’s family or friends would come and support his work. So far, he didn’t recognize anyone. Perhaps if someone he hadn’t interviewed did take an interest in the paintings, it could shed light on his now cold case.

Theo’s watch told him there was two minutes until the auction would start. He wished he had bought a hat, so he could close his eyes until the paintings arrived. Suddenly, someone picked up his booklet on the seat beside him and sat down. He turned to say the seat was taken but then he recognized who it was.

“Ms. Evans,” he said, leaning away from her.

She wore a short velvet green dress and black pumps.

“Detective, I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“You didn’t expect me? You were the last person I expected. Are you here for the Tipring art?”

“Thought I might see what they go for. I haven’t been able to get them out of my mind, did you know that? I mean, they really are the most hideous things but they really speak to me. Sounds ridiculous, I know. Perhaps it’s the mathematician in me, but the orderliness of the tiles . . .” She laughed. “Well, that’s why I’m here. Why are you here?”

Theo was about to answer but right on time, the auction started. Lot after lot of various art and household furnishings appeared, were bid on, and then taken away. Sophia followed along carefully in her book as each item passed. On occasion she would nod and state what a good deal it was or shake her head and complained the bidder paid too much.