Wall of Glass by Walter Satterthwait

got him for receiving.”
    He nodded. “That’s correct.”
    â€œHe only did eighteen months.”
    Nolan frowned, nodded.
    â€œI remember reading in the newspaper,” I said, “about the bust. Weren’t the goods valued at over thirty thousand dollars?”
    Still frowning, Nolan nodded again. “Thirty-three thousand five hundred.”
    â€œOver twenty thousand dollars makes it a second-degree felony. That’s eight years’ time on a conviction. He plea-bargained?”
    â€œThe D.A.’s office is overworked. A trial costs time and money.” He spoke quickly, and there was a tightness, an irritation, in his voice. At me, certainly, but also at the system he was defending. It had to be frustrating to make a solid bust and then watch the bad guy get off with only eighteen months in prison. But the frustration was cop-frustration, and rather than share it with a civilian, he was giving me the party line. “They let his lawyer plead guilty to third-degree. Three years. He did half of it.”
    I said, “The stuff that was recovered was mostly artwork?”
    He nodded. “And jewelry. He had burgled at least four galleries here in town, and several homes.”
    â€œWas everything recovered?”
    â€œNo. We estimate that at least another seventy or eighty thousand is still missing.”
    â€œWhat about Biddle? Did he have a record?”
    â€œNothing here. And in Amarillo, nothing extensive. Drunk and Disorderly. D.W.I.”
    â€œDid Biddle and Killebrew originally come to Santa Fe together?”
    â€œNo. Biddle came here about six years ago, Killebrew a year later.”
    â€œDid you talk to Biddle after the burglary?”
    â€œNot immediately. We didn’t have enough evidence to request extradition. I called him in Amarillo, asked for his cooperation, but it wasn’t until a week later that he drove back here.” Nolan frowned again, remembering.
    â€œWhen he did come back,” I said, “he denied having anything to do with the burglary?”
    A small shrug. “I didn’t expect him to confess.”
    â€œWhat was he doing in Amarillo?”
    â€œLooking for work, he said.” Another frown. Nolan clearly hadn’t been fond of Frank Biddle. “If so, he never found it. He returned to Amarillo after I questioned him, but he stayed only another few weeks before coming back to Santa Fe.”
    â€œAnd you never got the evidence you needed to tie him to the burglary.”
    â€œNo. Neither him nor Killebrew. But his coming to you as he did, trying to unload the jewelry, is hardly an indication of his innocence.”
    I nodded. “Getting back to the Leightons. You said something about the M.O. of the burglary.”
    â€œYes. It matched that of the other burglaries. In every case the phone lines had been severed to circumvent a telephone call from the alarm system.”
    â€œDid he cut the wires to the siren?”
    â€œYou don’t merely cut alarm wires,” he informed me. “Doing that triggers the system to send an alarm over the phone lines. First you bypass the wires, set up a secondary circuit, and then you cut them.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. “Did he bypass the alarm wires?”
    â€œAt the galleries, yes, but they’re all located in town, where the sirens would’ve been heard. The private homes, including the Leightons’, were all out of town and isolated. The phone lines were cut in each case, although only two of the houses had alarm systems.”
    â€œThose two had sirens?”
    â€œYes. The wires were uncut.”
    â€œHe pulled the plug on the siren when he got inside.”
    â€œThat’s correct.”
    I nodded. “One thing I don’t understand.”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œIf Killebrew had the necklace, if he still has it, then why hasn’t he tried to get rid of it before now?”
    He shrugged. “Waiting for it to