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“Is that what Quinn thinks? An international crime syndicate is after Uncle C.’s snow globe collection?”

Andy smiled, though it was tempting to punch Clark in his belly-button-shaped nose. Instead of replying, he asked, “Does the name Whittaker mean anything to you?”

“Whittaker? No. I don’t think so.” Clark peered down at the book Andy held open on the counter. “Whittaker who?”

“I’m not sure. They’re in Bangor, it seems. The name’s listed once in the purchase book. Uncle C. bought a suit of armor. The name shows up several times in the sales ledgers too. Once this year and five times last year.”

“What about the year before last?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to dig out the older ledgers.”

“Oh, sure.” Clark pointed at a line in the ledger. “I remember seeing that suit of armor. But I don’t think Cutty ever mentioned the seller’s name.”

“Uncle C. didn’t list what he sold to Whittaker last year, but in August of this year, he sold them water globes.”

“What are water globes?”

“Non-seasonal snow globes.”

“Oh.” Clark had already lost interest. “So?”

“Bangor’s about an hour away.” Andy was thinking aloud.

Clark said, “That’s not so far.”

“True, but cities made Uncle C. nervous. Prices are higher too. Uncle C. preferred to bargain-hunt in his own backyard.”

“If Whittaker was buying stuff from Uncle C., then it seems like this is someone he had a long-standing business relationship with.”

“That’s possible.”

“It’s more than possible. It’s probable.” Clark was looking at Andy like he was losing it, and maybe Andywasstarting to see sinister connections where none existed.

Andy admitted, “The problem is, I don’t know what I’m looking for. I found a torn-off scrap of paper in the cash register with the nameWhittakeron it. No indication of how old it was or what it was for.”

“Was there a phone number?”

“Yes. But it’s no longer in service.”

“Let me guess. It was tucked in there with lunch receipts and a reminder for a layaway twenty years ago? Cutty used to do that kind of thing all the time.”

“True,” Andy said. He really wished Clark would not talk about Uncle C. in the past tense.

“There are plenty of people named Whittaker in the world. Some of them are bound to live in Bangor.”

That was also true. The region was prime hunting ground for antiquers, both professional and private.

“Right. I checked. There are several Bangor listings for people with the last name Whittaker, as well as a drug manufacturing company called Whittaker Pharmaceuticals. There’s also a pawnshop called Whittaker’s Second Chances.”

“That’ll be it,” Clark said. “Right? That’s the most likely place to find a suit of armor.”

“Yes. I’m afraid that’s it.”

“Why afraid?”

Andy said grimly, “Because one of those listings for Whittaker was an obituary. Thursday evening, someone named June Whittaker was killed in a hit-and-run.”

Chapter Ten