The Body in Bodega Bay by Betsy Draine Page A

can you describe it? What was the subject, for example?”
    â€œIt was an icon of St. Michael, I believe,” answered Toby, “but I only glanced at it when my partner brought it to the shop. I know almost nothing at all about Russian art, to tell you the truth. I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about it.”
    â€œSt. Michael, you say? A pity it was stolen. I have a special feeling for St. Michael. I would have liked to see it.”
    Toby nodded.
    â€œAre there any other galleries in Sonoma County I may have overlooked that carry religious icons or Russian objects of historical interest?”
    â€œNot that I know of,” replied Toby. “But it might be worth your while to look around in Guerneville or Graton. Even Sebastopol. You never can tell what might come into a shop from week to week.”
    â€œYes, you’re right. You know, I may spend a day or two more in the area. Let me give you my card. In case you do come across any Russian objects that might interest me, would you be so kind as to give me a call?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œAnd in the event that the missing icon is recovered, I would be extremely interested in seeing it. As I’ve said, I have a special reverence for St. Michael, and I won’t quibble about price if I find a piece I like.” He extended his card to Toby, who slipped it into his shirt pocket without reading it. “Thank you,” said the stranger, and with that, he exited the shop, with a quick, polite nod in my direction.
    I had felt a growing sense of unease during this conversation. Now Toby walked back to where I was sitting, withdrawing the card from his pocket. As he gazed at it, he stopped abruptly, then looked up.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” I asked.
    Wordlessly, he handed it to me. It was a plain white business card bearing a name, an address in San Francisco, and a phone number. There was nothing particularly interesting about the card except the name.
    Andrew Federenco.

5
    T HE COUSIN? The man Peter feared? I called Rose right away, but the best she could do was confirm that Andrew might have been the cousin’s name. Honestly, she couldn’t remember. Still, it was enough of a reason to call Dan. He picked up the phone on the first ring. He had just been reading my e-mail, and now with this piece of news, he decided to swing by to see us. He was at the shop within twenty minutes.
    â€œHey, guys. Thanks for the Cassini notes. Let’s review them step by step.”
    In answer to his methodical questions, we walked Dan through our interview with Rose, relating her conversation with Charlie and her tales about the past. We concluded with Andrew Federenco’s recent visit. Toby handed over Federenco’s card, and Dan studied it. “Address and phone number, that helps,” he said. “I’ll have somebody get on it right away. Good job, you two.”
    We thanked him. Dan was now following several lines in the investigation. He’d discovered that Charlie had been a regular at a high-stakes poker game run by a gambler named Arnold Kohler, who moved the game around from place to place in the county. It was rumored that Charlie owed him a bundle. Kohler’s alibi for the night of the murder was strong, but he was known to have unsavory associates. Dan was also looking into Tom Keogh’s affairs.
    Toby mentioned that Tom had come to the shop and complained about his interrogation.
    â€œUpset, was he?” Dan said, with a shrug of dismissal. “That’s too bad.”
    â€œIs he a suspect?” I asked.
    â€œAt this stage of the investigation, he’s a person of interest. We don’t have any evidence to hold him, but he did have a motive. You were right about there being bad blood between the two of them,” he said, looking at Toby. “Tom was jealous of Charlie playing around, and that’s why they broke up. In fact, Tom threw him out of the