“Money well spent, Morgan. What does it say?”
“It’s this one line: ‘I am sending you some books and toys from my own childhood.’ That’s all. But after Victoria died, there were no schoolbooks in the inventory.”
“So there is a chance those are the books.”
“Yes, sir, a chance. In 1912, Alexandra married this guy, Lord Bost-wick. Then she died thirteen years later, in 1925.”
“She was thirty-seven,” Charles said.
“Influenza. Her husband sold off all her belongings.”
“How?”
Morgan’s grin got even bigger. “Sotheby’s.”
Charles’s grin matched Morgan’s. “Oh, how wonderful. Perfect. I will call them immediately.”
“Mr. Beale?” Alice had arrived. “You have a telephone call. Mr. John Borchard.”
“Hello, this is Charles Beale.”
“Charles, John Borchard here.”
“Good morning, John.”
“Good morning! I hope it is for you.”
“It is so far,” Charles said.
“Very good! Charles, I wanted to call to follow up on our discussion yesterday morning. A specific point.”
“Go ahead, then.”
“Good. Thank you. The point is in regard to Patrick White. You may have wondered why I haven’t taken stronger action against him for the things he’s been saying about me.”
“I think you’ve been very gracious so far, John.”
“I have tried. There is a limit, of course, and some people might say he has already exceeded it, but I’m still reluctant to press charges. Let me tell you a story, Charles.”
Dorothy was just sitting at her desk. Charles looked at his watch. “Go ahead, John,” he said.
“Thank you. I want to tell you about a man I knew, back in my early days in Kansas. He was a fellow prosecutor in a neighboring county.”
“Oh, yes. I remember you mentioning Kansas.”
“Quite. This friend was quite zealous. He was young, idealistic, wanted to make his mark. He was even overzealous.”
“I see,” Charles said. “That’s a little dangerous in a prosecutor, isn’t it?”
John’s answer was a little slow in coming. “Perhaps. In this case, a few lines were crossed.”
“In what way?”
“Maybe we don’t need to go into details,” John said. “In fact, as this all happened to an acquaintance, I don’t think I really know the details. Suffice it to say, there were a number of cases he prosecuted successfully but that later were overturned because these lines had been crossed.”
“Were the people actually guilty of the charges he prosecuted?”
“He felt quite sure that they were, which would be why he felt justified in overlooking the niceties. However, the law is the law. The convictions were thrown out.”
“Where is he now?”
“I’m not really sure. I’ve lost touch. He had already left the county, and at this point there wouldn’t be any need to stir up his past. It could even be detrimental to his career. Um, for all I know, at least. As I’ve said, I’ve lost touch.”
“And what does this have to do with Patrick White?” Charles asked.
“My friend later told me something he’d learned from the incident. He said he’d resolved to be much more careful in bringing charges against other people.”
“Just more careful?” Charles asked. “So that he’d have more complete cases against them?”
“No, not exactly. We’ll say he learned to be less anxious to see others punished.”
“Something like mercy, John?”
“Yes. Something like mercy, Charles.”
“I see. Well, that is a very interesting story. It does explain your lenience toward Patrick White.”
“Good. I hoped it would. And I won’t take any more of your time.”
“I’m always at your service, John. And I actually have a quick question for you.”
“Of course! What can I do for you?”
“Yesterday, you mentioned having gone on a camping and rafting trip through the Grand Canyon. I was thinking it might be just the thing for Dorothy and me.”
“Absolutely, Charles! I would recommend it to anyone.”
“Did you do it through a travel agency?”
“I did. I’ll have to have my secretary dig that up. I’ll have her send that over to you right away!”
“Thank you very much. I’d appreciate it.”
Dorothy’s eyes were as wide as the Grand Canyon when he’d hung up. “Camping and rafting?”
“John Borchard told me he was on vacation in the Grand Canyon when Derek was killed, and I was just curious about it. But I would take you! Would you like to?”
“I think I’d rather just see it from the top.”
“Then let’s do. When would you be ready? I’ll take you anywhere!”
“I think I’d prefer Paris. But what are you curious about?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“And what were you talking about before that?”
“His old friend, who was a prosecutor in Kansas. Actually, it was the person in Derek’s paper.”
“It wasn’t John, then?”
“Oh, yes, it is John Borchard. He said it was a friend, but he was really describing himself.”
“That sounds very complicated.”
“It is very complicated. It will take me a while to work it out, and I have to call London.” He looked at the computer screen on his desk. “And, I see that John Borchard’s secretary is very efficient.” He copied a telephone number from the screen. “I will be in the basement.”
“Sotheby’s,” the telephone said, and it sounded just like it.
“Good morning,” Charles said. “Or, it would be afternoon there, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. It’s 4:15.”
“Good afternoon, then. My name is Charles Beale and I’m doing some research on an item that was sold through your house in 1925.”
“Just a moment, Mr. Beale. I’ll put you through to our records department.”
“Thank you.”
He waited, for a very short time.
“Mr. Beale?”
“Yes, this is Charles Beale.”
“Good afternoon. I am Anthony Prescott.” He sounded just like it, too. “How may we help you, sir?”
“I’m calling from Virginia in the United States. I am a rare-books dealer and I have a book, which I’ve just bought through eBay, and I’m trying to get more information about it. I believe the book may have been sold at a Sotheby’s auction in London in 1925. Is there any information you can give me that might verify that?”
“I can look, sir. Could you describe the book or the auction?”
“It would have been a Lord Bostwick, selling the possessions of his deceased wife. The book itself is an Alexander Pope translation of Homer’s Odyssey. I’m estimating the publication date to be in the 1830s. I don’t know how it would have been described in the auction catalog.”
“Mr. Beale,” Mr. Prescott said. “I do see that sale for 1925. I’ll need to do more research to find anything about that book.”
“The particular things I’m interested in,” Charles said, “are first, if this book was indeed sold through that auction, and second, if any other books were bought at that auction, and even possibly by whom.”
“I may be able to help you with your first points, Mr. Beale, but we never release information about our
