“Agreed.”
Milo finishes his coffee, goes to the bar and comes back with a refill, takes on a furtive smile. “I went back to Filippov Construction last night, then to Filippov’s house,” he says.
“Why?”
“To search trash cans,” Milo says. “I hoped he was stupid and threw out the gear he wore while he killed his wife. He wasn’t.”
“Filippov is an asshole, but missing taser or no, there isn’t any evidence to hang the murder on him. Not yet, anyway.”
My lack of confidence irks Milo. “And that’s why I’m trash-diving, to find evidence and hang him.”
I switch gears. “This thing I’m investigating for the national chief of police is taking more time than I thought. Can you do the legwork, background checks and basic stuff on the Filippov case for a day or two?”
“Sure. If you tell me about your top-secret mission.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Because explaining about Arvid would lead to a question about the reason behind my involvement, and the answer is Ukki. I’m not prepared to go there with Milo. “It’s just not your business.”
“You’re an annoying fuck,” he says.
“Funny,” I say, “I’ve had the same thought about you.”
This gives him pause. “I’ve been doing the Filippov case legwork,” he says, “which is why I was up all night.”
At long last, he approaches the reason for our clandestine liaison.
“Iisa Filippov’s life insurance policy makes her worth eight hundred and fifty thousand, dead,” he says.
“It’s not a pittance, but not exactly a fortune either these days.”
“This afternoon, I spent some time going through her phone, making calls, finding out who her friends are. Everyone spoke well of her.”
He must think his detailed account of routine police work builds my anticipation. It only makes me miss the days when you could smoke in bars. “Glad to hear it.”
“And neither her husband’s nor her own personal bank accounts show signs of abnormal transactions.”
I sip coffee, work on my tolerance management skills.
“Last night,” Milo says, “while I was trash-diving at Filippov’s house, I looked in the windows and saw Linda there with him. They left together and I decided to tail them. They went to Linda’s apartment. I stayed and surveiled them.”
“Hoping to discover what?”
“I got an idea that if they collaborated in the murder and he used protective clothing while he committed it, they could have stowed it in her place.”
“Why wouldn’t he have disposed of it immediately after the killing?”
He shrugs. “You never know with people. I trash-dived Linda’s dumpsters and came up empty.”
He’s boring me shitless. My mind drifts to Ukki. I picture him executing a Communist with his little suicide pistol.
“Something the matter?” Milo asks.
“Nope. Please continue.”
“So I sit outside her building all night, in case they try to sneak out to dump the stuff. Nothing happens. Early this morning, they left together-I guess to work-so I broke in and black-bagged her apartment.”
My attention snaps into focus. “What?”
His coat is beside him. He takes a nylon wallet out of a pocket, unfolds it, sets it on the low table in front of us to show me a lockpick set. Seven picks and two torsion wrenches. “I busted a burglar once,” Milo says. “In return for letting him walk, he gave me his picks and showed me how to use them. It’s pretty easy.”
I shake my head, disgusted. “So you committed breaking and entering.”
“It’s a hobby with me. I don’t steal anything, I just like to see how other people live, take a peek into the lives of strangers.”
More sharing of personal details I don’t want to know. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I like to see the look on your face when I tell you about my hobbies.”
I didn’t know I had a look on my face. “Do you tell other people this shit?”
“ No. Just you.”