student. Kevin admitted as much. Their relationship had never gone past friendship, but it wasn’t because he was odd. Far from it. He was one of the most well-adjusted men she’d ever met. It was just that after four months of getting to know him, there still seemed to be a barrier there. Distance. In some ways she thought he understood her better than anyone else did, but in others she felt like she barely knew him.
Despite the distance, Kevin was the best friend she had. There was potential for more. She saw that in the way he looked at her when they talked. She just wasn’t sure if she had the will to risk their friendship.
She’d almost decided to spend the hour doing something else, pretending she had gone to the library, but she knew she would never be able to look him in the face and lie to him like that. Which left actually looking for a library book marked “DA483 H3.” She still had no idea what she would do after she told him there was nothing there.
Several other people dotted the campus, mostly students enjoying the last days of the break between summer and fall terms. A few older men in suits and sports jackets strode purposefully across the quad, no doubt professors returning to their offices.
Erica reached the shadowed portico leading to the library’s main entrance and took off her sunglasses. She looked at the number scrawled on the piece of paper in her hand and shook her head as she opened the door, wondering what type of book she would be looking for.
Across the main quad, a suntanned blond in his mid-twenties, wearing a gray suit and sunglasses and saddled with the name Vernon Francowiak, watched the woman entering the main library. His gait never slowed as he saw her disappear into the library’s foyer, then he abruptly changed directions when he was sure he wouldn’t be noticed.
Franco had been posted at the university to look for any signs of the student or his girlfriend, a picture of whom he had been faxed only half an hour before from Bern. His boss, Stan Wilson, was watching the building where Hamilton did the research with Ward. At the briefing this morning, Franco had been told to roam the campus in the hopes of seeing one or both of them, in case they tried seeking help from a friend at the university. Another operative was at the hospital with the same instructions.
The woman he’d seen enter the library fit the description, but he’d been too far away to make a positive ID from the photograph he’d been given. He wasn’t going to pass up any chance he might have of making a few points with Lobec, who Franco knew had Tarnwell’s ear. He retreated to the cover of the physics building’s shadows before removing a small, but sophisticated, walkie-talkie from his pocket.
He clicked the button on the side of the device, which was set to communicate scrambled messages with one of its matched handsets.
After a second’s pause, he heard, “This is Wilson. Go ahead.”
“This is Franco. I have a possible on the woman.” A click when he released the talk button told Wilson it was okay to speak.
“Where?”
“She just entered the main library.”
“When?”
“Ten seconds ago. Should I follow?”
“No, the library’s too big. She’s got too much of a head start. She might come out before you find her.”
“But it hasn’t been that long…”
“I said no.”
Franco swore under his breath, eager to get a chance to prove himself.
“How sure are you about her identity?” Wilson said.
“I was about a hundred yards away. Just a possible.”
Another short pause. “The library has only one entrance. Wait outside to make a positive. If it’s her, buzz me twice.” He meant the walkie-talkie’s vibrating ringer; an auditory alarm would have been too suspicious to passersby.
“Then what?”
“Follow her until I join you. We’ll make contact together.” Franco knew better. Wilson wanted to take the glory for himself.
“She looks like a fucking student. I can take her.”
Wilson’s voice hardened. “You have your orders. Understood?”
Franco clenched his teeth. “Yes, sir.”
He replaced the walkie-talkie and shifted the fake HPD badge to his front pocket. As he walked toward the library’s entrance, he deftly unsnapped the restraining clip on his shoulder holster. No way was he going to let Wilson take the credit for this one.
Muted colors and warm lights bathed the library’s information center. The lone staffer at the island reference desk looked up as Erica entered the room and then went back to reading his paperback when she didn’t approach him. Computer terminals lined the room’s walls, and Erica took the nearest one.
She stood as she typed the search parameters into the library’s electronic search system. Several seconds passed as the system processed her request, and then green characters scrolled up the screen. She was startled when she read the four titles listed under the “DA483 H3” call number.
DA483 H3 B6………………………………… Patriotic Lady
DA483 H3 H3………………………………… Emma in Blue
DA483 H3 L63……………………………….. Emma Hamilton
DA483 H3 B6………………………………… Emma Lady Hamilton
She hadn’t really expected to find any books under that call number, but the name Hamilton in the last two titles had to be more than a coincidence. Her stomach started fluttering. Of course, it could still be a prank, with a goofy note left in one of the books, but now she was intensely curious as to what she might find. She headed for the nearest stairwell. The “D” section was located in the basement.
Rather than instilling a sense of wonder as edifices of learning and freedom, libraries always gave Erica the creeps, and this one didn’t change her mind. The tall bookshelves interfered with the fluorescent lighting, which wasn’t especially effective to begin with. Occasionally, bulbs flickered or were burned out, and the whisper of her Keds along the linoleum was the only sound she could hear, making it seem as if she’d entered a dank catacomb. She could almost imagine that she was the first to set eyes on this place in a thousand years.
She ran her fingers across the bindings as she walked down the stack. CS. CT. D. DA. She stopped and looked at each shelf, bending over until she found the bottom row. There it was. DA483 H3. There were four books with that call number. Nothing seemed out of place, no notebook amongst them. She reached down and took the first title, quickly flipping through it to see if there was a note contained inside. Nothing. And no notes written on the book itself, either. She replaced it and did the same with the next book.
With no luck on the next two, she picked up the last one, grunting as she did so because it was about as thick as the other three combined. Erica wondered aloud how this much could be written on somebody she’d never heard of. She flipped through it with the same negative results. It was huge though; she could have missed something. Erica grabbed it by the covers and shook it to see if a note would fall out. As she was shaking, she lost her grip on the heavy book, and it tumbled to the floor.
She crouched down to retrieve it, embarrassed that she might have damaged it. It landed on one of the covers, however, and wasn’t harmed. She was about to put it back, somewhat disappointed that she hadn’t found anything, when she noticed a small piece of yellow paper toward the back of the empty slot where she had removed the book. She hadn’t noticed before because the ledge above had blocked her view of the back of the shelf when she was merely bending at the waist and not crouching.
Skeptical, but still curious, Erica reached into the slot and found that the paper was partially covered by the other books labeled “DA483 H3.” She removed them and could now see that they covered a large Post-It note, folded and taped down on the bookshelf. She tugged at it until the tape peeled off the surface.
