“Jones. The matchmaker.”
“Oh, yes” Dorothy said. “Did you have him look at Angelo?”
“No, I had Angelo look at him.”
“Charles, how much would you say that the Enlightenment was based on laws?”
“Laws written by governments?”
“No, I mean natural laws. You mentioned Isaac Newton once.”
“I think natural laws were very important, Derek. Once the Renaissance and the Reformation had overturned so much that people had once accepted, they were looking for something new to base their understanding of the world on. Newton and Pascal and the rest were describing the physical world with mathematic laws, so why not describe mankind the same way? That’s what the Enlightenment fundamentally was: rebuilding the world rationally.”
“Then it was fundamentally flawed. Nothing is less described by rules than human nature.”
“On that, Derek, we completely agree. But what they built is the modern world we live in. We seem to govern ourselves and keep a semblance of order.”
“Barely. Just barely. It’s touch and go, and we live an inch from catastrophe. Charles, the reason there are no laws that govern human nature is that it is ungovernable.”
“Some people are less governable than others.”
“You’re speaking of your own experience?”
“Yes, my son, as you know.”
“I do. I know it isn’t an easy subject for you.”
“No, Derek, but it’s all right. He would be a good example for a discussion of the ungovernable human spirit, but I don’t think I would be objective.”
“How old was he?”
“Seventeen. That was fifteen years ago.”
“Fifteen years might not heal much.”
“Believe me, Derek. It doesn’t.”
FRIDAY MORNING
“Let me describe what Derek Bastien looked like.”
The night had passed, the morning had come, and Dorothy, at her desk, looked very nice herself.
“Yes?” she said, peering over her reading glasses.
“I hope you’re not too busy,” Charles said.
“Please, dear,” she said, “tell me what he was like.”
“I’d be glad to.” Charles’s gaze drifted. “Did you ever see him?”
“You introduced me once, but I don’t remember now.”
“Exactly. Oddly nondescript for such a personality. Or maybe chameleon-like. He could just disappear in a room of people if he wanted.”
“There must have been something not ordinary.”
“First was his eyes. They were always studying. When you finally noticed it, it was unsettling for a while. Then his voice. It was deeper than you would think. Rumbly.”
“And what did you talk about on your visits?”
“We played chess and discussed human nature. He studied it like a geologist would study rocks. His job was his laboratory.”
“He said that?”
“No. I was studying his nature a little myself.”
“While he studied yours?”
Charles laughed. “Wheels within wheels. I think I agree with John Borchard. He just referred to all of us as Derek Bastien’s collected works. Himself, me, Karen Liu. All of Derek’s friends.”
“Mr. Beale?” said Alice, abruptly appearing. “You have a phone call. Mr. John Borchard.”
Charles looked at Dorothy. “Speak of the devil.”
“John. This is Charles.”
“Good morning, Charles!” None of his rich baritone was lost through the telephone connection. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”
“I’m at your service.”
“Well! What an opportunity! I shouldn’t waste it.”
“Please don’t,” Charles said. “What can I do for you?”
“I said that I wanted to drop in to your shop, there, but I just haven’t had time.”
“It was only two days ago that you said that.”
“I am still very interested. And I was wondering, also, who else of Derek’s friends you’d met.”
“I have met a few more. His wife, Lucy, for one. I realized how odd it was that I’d never met her.”
“I have only briefly myself! What did you think of her?”
“I might sound judgmental if I said anything.”
“And that says quite a bit itself! I understand. Not precisely the grieving widow, I expect.”
“Not precisely.”
“And, I wonder,” Charles said, “if you’ve ever heard of Patrick White?”
“Patrick White…” There was a long pause. “I should have guessed. Of course!” John said, bouncing back to life. “Very sad!”
“So you know him?”
“Oh yes, we’ve met. In fact, it’s a bit of a long story, even before his present troubles. Well, that’s interesting. Quite a path you’re following!”
“I just take one step and the next one presents itself.”
“And all from selling a few books. I doubt you had any idea where it would lead when he first came through your door!”
“I certainly didn’t.”
“I wonder where those books are now.”
“I don’t wonder that at all,” Charles said.
Another pause. “You aren’t curious?”
“I know where they are. I bought them back at the auction.”
“Of course!” Jubilation! “Of course you would! Absolutely! So you have them?”
“I certainly do.”
“That’s very interesting to know!” The celebration died down. “All of them?”
“The thirteen offered at the auction.”
“There weren’t any missing?”
“No, I believe that was all.”
“Well, I should have guessed. Do you plan to sell them?”
“I expect so. I haven’t listed them yet.”
“You haven’t listed them.” There was a feel of gathering for a leap. “When you do, let me know. I might be interested myself.”
“I’ll let you know,” Charles said.
“Then I won’t bother you anymore for now.” Back to happiness and friendship. “Keep in touch, Charles! And remember, if there is anything at all I can do for you, let me know.”
Piercing blue eyes were upon him as he hung up.
“Yes?” he said.
“Yes?” Dorothy said in reply.
“I should really think of something he can do for me.”
“You could ask him about the papers in the book.”
