“I am so glad you called,” he said. “Please come into my office.”
The office was larger than the head. Charles was set on a supple, wine-red leather couch, beneath historic American paintings that needed as large a room as this in which to be properly displayed. Yards away, it seemed, was an immense desk, capable of properly displaying a Deputy Assistant Attorney General.
John Borchard chose a matching chair closer to Charles.
“Thank you so much for seeing me,” Charles said.
“It’s a pleasure.” The voice was of bassoons and cellos. “So you knew Derek?” The head tilted at that profound thought. “What a tragedy.”
“Certainly,” Charles said. His own voice was rather reedy and oboe-ish.
“And you are an antiquarian?”
“I deal in antique books. I met Derek through his collecting.”
“Yes, his collecting.” Each phrase was a plaque in sound, dark wood with the words engraved in brass. “He was quite a collector. In many ways. But what can I do for you today, Mr. Beale-Charles?”
“Well… not really anything. I only wanted to meet you. As someone who knew Derek.”
Mr. Borchard-John?-nodded. “I understand. Absolutely. An odd thing, isn’t it? Yet I think anyone who knew him would understand. It was the quality of the man.”
“There was a quality.”
“There was. I can’t tell you how much he is missed here. He’d been with me for over ten years.”
“I’d known him about six years.”
“How well?” One eyebrow climbed high. “Had you been his guest, even?”
“I did get in the front door a few times,” Charles said.
The other eyebrow rose up to its fellow. “Ah. A game or two of chess?”
“A game or two.”
A grand smile stretched the lower part of the face while the eyebrows expanded the upper. “He was quite good, wasn’t he?”
“He was very good.”
“Yes, I learned my lesson early on, that some battles are hopeless.” What a big smile he had. “And I declined further contests. So you were quite into the inner circle, then.”
“It was a large circle.”
“Very, but close in, nonetheless. And your entree was books.”
“He purchased a dozen or so through the years.”
“Did you supply all his books?”
“Only the antique volumes.”
“I remember them on his shelves. Did he buy from anyone else?”
Charles smiled. “Not that he told me.”
“Nor would he have! Would he? He wouldn’t have told you. So we don’t really know.”
“I never saw any others.”
“Then we’ll say he didn’t. He wasn’t usually so loyal with his dealers.”
“It would have been fine, of course,” Charles said. “Most collectors cultivate a network of suppliers.”
“And he certainly cultivated his suppliers. He was absolutely a collector.”
“He had a diverse collection.”
“More than diverse.” John Borchard was studying him. “Oh, you must realize. It wasn’t antiques he was collecting. He collected people! He always was looking. For an interesting vase, for an interesting person. Maybe we should form a society, The Collected Works of Derek Bastien.”
“What an odd thought, Mr. Borchard.”
“Call me, John! Please! Those of us in it, we’d be quite a crew. What do the books on your shelves think of each other?”
“I think they get along,” Charles said. “They have a lot in common.”
“I wonder what we have in common, those of us in Derek’s collection. It would be interesting to know what caught his eye. I expect you’re quite an expert on books.”
“It is my work.”
“You have an interesting profession. That would make you collectable yourself, don’t you think? Do you understand my point?”
“I do. But of course, everyone chooses their own friends.”
“They do. To some extent. And why did you request this visit, Charles? Was it only to reminisce about Derek Bastien?”
Charles braced against the sudden swerve in direction. He frowned a thoughtful frown. “A little more than just that. It was to meet you. I know you were Derek’s boss, and his colleague. And I appreciate having had the opportunity. I know you must be very busy.”
“I am busy.” There was no urgency or busyness in his manner. He seemed very relaxed. “So why did I accept your request?”
“You’ve decided to start collecting antique books?” Charles asked lightly.
The effect was immediate. John’s smile sank into his teeth, and his eyes were pushed out by it. “Might I? Do you think I should? What are you offering?”
The force of the questions was more than necessary, an abrupt acceleration of the conversation. Charles was nearly knocked off-balance.
“Well… I have quite a few,” he said. “It would depend on your interests.”
“My interests. I have quite a few.” John was very intent. His smile had been momentarily forgotten.
“Then you might want to come in to visit.”
“I might.” Then John remembered to be jovial. “Now that’s intriguing. Absolutely!” He folded his arms and sank back into the deep chair. “I might. But I’m not sure if you’ve answered my question of why I wanted to meet you. The truth of it is that I was intrigued. You were a friend of Derek, the same reason you wanted to meet me.”
Charles adjusted to match John’s happiness. “As one specimen to another?”
“Yes, yes! That’s it. One specimen to another! It speaks volumes about his collection, doesn’t it? Ha! I apologize, Charles. No pun intended! And tell me, have you found any other of his specimens?”
“I had a short meeting with Karen Liu this morning.”
The eyebrows rocketed. “Well! Derek’s name opens doors, doesn’t it?”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“She’s an impressive person.”
“I was impressed.”
“With good reason. And she has been a great ally of the Department. I’ve greatly enjoyed working with her. She’s a good start, Charles, and I wonder who else you’ll encounter.” The eyebrows came down. “Anyway! It has been very interesting talking, Charles, absolutely so, and I’m very pleased you took the opportunity to call.”
“The pleasure has been all mine.”
“And I’ve done all the talking! It’s my habit to question people, I’m afraid. My old days as a prosecutor.”
“A prosecutor?”
“A life I led long ago. Back in Kansas.” Smile. “I will stop in at your business sometime.”
“I’m in Alexandria. Downtown.”
“Very nice. I haven’t been there in ages.” He was standing. “In the meantime, if there is anything I can do for you, please let my secretary know.”
“I will,” Charles said. “Although I don’t know what it could be.”
“We often don’t. And I do wonder what you mean, that I might start collecting. A very curious thought. I will think about it carefully.”
EVENING
