62

Bobby Adamo didn’t give up the information easily, keeping to his story that he didn’t know anything he’d handed over was stolen, that he hadn’t been present at the burglaries.

Jack had to turn the conversation serious. Principal Adamo had threatened charges, called his lawyer, called Bing.

Bing threatened back with a charge of obstruction of justice.

And then Bobby miraculously remembered the exact address in a split second. Jack called it in.

The old Broslin Bank on Main Street had stood empty for years. It was the most stately building in town, all brick and fancy masonry, recalling another era. The bank had shut down during the financial crises and now sat with its windows boarded. Still, it was an imposing presence, between one of the town’s two dozen galleries on one side and the post office on the other.

According to Bobby, they’d gone in through the back, just in case there was some leftover money in the safe, but had found nothing but garbage. They had taken the fan as a souv