“I suppose in your line of work, clients are keen on discretion.”

“Always,” I said. “What I don’t understand is how she got into the house. She had to be in cahoots with someone in real estate, didn’t she? I mean, I can’t think how else she could manage it.”

“Could she have broken in?”

“No evidence of it that I saw. At the same time, I’m assuming anyone with the right combination could open the lockbox on the property.”

“True. All that’s required for access is to dial it in. Our system’s ancient. Some companies are moving to a new device that utilizes an electronic ‘key’ and keeps a running log of which agents have come and gone, but that’s a year or two in the future for us, which is no help to you now.”

“In the meantime, what’s the procedure?” I asked. “I mean, suppose someone has a client who wants to see the house? Then what?”

“The agent checks the MLS . . . the Multiple Listing Service,” she amended when she saw my look. “Standard instructions are ‘LB/cf,’ which means ‘Lockbox, call first,’ or ‘LB/apt,’ meaning an appointment is required. In the case of the Clipper estate, all the agents know the house is empty, so no one bothers with either one.”

“So you’re saying anyone and everyone has access.”

“As long as they’ve been given the combination.”

“In other words, you couldn’t just stand there punching in numbers randomly, hoping to hit it right.”

“I suppose you could if you were lucky,” she said. “Come to think of it, how did you get in?”

I made a face. “I hauled off and smacked the lock with a chunk of wood, knocking it to kingdom come. I’ll be happy to pay to have the lock replaced.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have Nancy take care of it. She was given the listing because she’s worked here for all of two months and she’s low man on the totem pole. She’ll be thrilled with the mission. We can stop by her office and I’ll introduce you on the way out.”

“She’s not here.”

“Of course she is.”

“Really? I thought she was gone. Kim said she had clients in from out of town and she was off showing property.”

“I don’t know where she got that. Nancy’s right around the corner.”

I didn’t press the point. As much as I’d have loved to get Kim in hot water, I wanted to stay on track. “Here’s the other thing,” I said. “The night I was up there, the place was fully furnished. Lots of Oriental carpets and paintings on the walls. She had deck chairs and outdoor heaters. Where did all that come from?”

“It’s called staging; common practice in real estate. If a house goes on the market unfurnished, the feeling is that most buyers who tour an empty house lack the imagination to see the possibilities. A stager will show an appealing living room arrangement and set up the dining table and chairs, complete with table linens, flatware, and a centerpiece. Sometimes a buyer even asks to have the furniture included in the purchase price.”

“Isn’t that expensive?”

“Quite.”

“So if Hallie hired a stager to furnish the house short-term, who paid for it?”

“She would have, I guess, though the cost would have been prohibitive. I believe you said this was for one night, yes?”

“More or less. I met her at the house last Monday and there was stuff everywhere. Now it’s empty,” I said. “Why prohibitive?”

“A stager has to maintain a large inventory of furniture because they’re often handling eight or ten big houses at the same time. Part of their overhead is the warehouse space for items not in use. That gets factored in to the client’s overall cost. There’s also the expense of moving furniture into a house and then out again at the end of a contract. In this case, that’s a lot of time and effort.”

“I wonder if any of the neighbors saw the moving van?”

“In that area? Doubtful. On the other hand, all she had to do was create the illusion of furnished rooms. How much of the house did you actually see?”

“Not much, now that you mention it. The furniture in the living and dining rooms were largely covered in tarps. I guess there could have been old cardboard boxes under them.”

“Sleight of hand,” she said.

“I can’t believe I fell for it.”

“You’re fortunate in one respect. Under ordinary circumstances, you wouldn’t have caught on to the trick at all. You’d have tracked down the information, sent off your report, and that would have been the end of it. If that police detective hadn’t come into your office with the story about the marked bills, you’d still be in the dark.”