across the floor with his stick as fast as Charles could keep up with him. He put Jacob in the desk chair.
Jacob Leatherman took a few minutes to look around the room, and to breathe it in.
“You have a few nice books down here.”
“They’re all nice,” Charles said.
“Yes. They are. You treat them with respect, Charles, and it’ll show.”
“Let me get you the Homer.” He took it from the shelf and laid it on the desk. “Here it is.”
“Here it is,” Jacob said. He pushed his wrinkled hand into his pocket and pulled out a magnifying lens set in an eyepiece. He took off his glasses and fit the magnifier to his eye and tightened his cheek to hold it in place. “Now I can see.”
Charles was silent as Jacob hunched over the book, the glass only an inch from the gold letters on the cover.
“Hand-stamped, of course. Give me gloves.”
Charles handed him the white cotton gloves and the thin silver page turner. Jacob opened the front board.
For three minutes he stared at the faded signature, first moving side to side, then without any motion.
“Her own hand, Charles. Rested right there. She put her pen to the page and wrote the name of a queen.”
“I assume it was hers. It hasn’t been authenticated.”
“It has been now.” There was no strength in his wavering words, only absolute authority. “It was hers or I don’t know anything.”
“Then it was,” Charles said.
Jacob turned the page. For a while he didn’t move.
“I’ll let you be by yourself,” Charles said.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll be back down in a while.”
“Is he all right?” Dorothy asked.
“Yes, he’s fine. I’m still planning to go to New York this afternoon.”
“Charles! With everything else happening? Can’t you reschedule?”
“I can’t. I don’t have any way to communicate with Mr. Smith.”
“If you don’t show up, he’ll call you.”
“I don’t think this is a meeting that I can miss,” Charles said.
“What about Angelo? I… I don’t think you should leave. We don’t know what he might do.”
“I’m going to take him with me. If he’ll come.”
Two quick knocks. The dark head peered out.
“Angelo. I would like you to come with me on a delivery. Would you do that?”
“Now?” He was still in his nice clothes from the morning.
“In a while. We’ll be taking a train to New York.”
“New York City?”
“Yes.”
Angelo didn’t speak. He might have been deliberating or he might just have been waiting.
“You don’t have to,” Charles said.
“You do not want to go alone?”
“I’d rather you went with me.”
“Why?”
Charles did deliberate. “It’s a very valuable book and I don’t know exactly what will happen. I might want help.”
“I will come.”
“We’ll leave in a couple of hours and we’ll be back tonight, late.”
“Angelo will come with me.”
“I know you can’t answer this,” Dorothy said, “but could you tell at all what he was thinking?”
“I had one clue. When I asked him to come, he asked me why. He’s never questioned me before.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I made it sound like it might be dangerous, and I might need help.”
“Will it be dangerous?” Dorothy said.
“I really don’t think so,” Charles said. “And while I’m up there, I think I will make one other stop. I wonder where I put Edmund Cane’s telephone number.”
“He was the man who bid on Derek’s desk?”
“Yes. I would really like to know who he was representing.”
“May I speak with Mr. Edmund Cane, please?”
“Who is calling?”
“This is Charles Beale, from Virginia. He and I have spoken before.”
“Just a moment, sir.”
Several moments passed.
“Mr. Beale?”
“Yes.”
“This is Edmund Cane. It is so nice to speak with you again. I hope you are calling to discuss the sale of Derek Bastien’s books?”
“Not on the telephone. I’m coming to New York on business, and I’d like to stop in for a moment if it’s convenient for you.”
“When would that be?”
“I’m leaving here by train in a few hours. I would be at your showroom about six. Is that too late?”
“We are open until nine. Would you prefer to meet later?”
“No, I have an evening meeting afterwards.”
“Very well, Mr. Beale. We are on Fortieth Street, near Seventh Avenue.”
“Good. I look forward to it.”
Charles set the telephone down. “I just thought of one other clue,” he said to Dorothy.
“About Mr. Cane?”
“About Angelo. One other clue about what he might be thinking. He didn’t call me boss.”
“I’m done,” Jacob said.
Charles stood beside the desk. “I’m glad you came.”
“Just an old man’s folly.”
“Your folly, Jacob, is beyond most men’s wisdom. If you hadn’t come, I might have taken it out to you.”
“Brought it to me?” An ember spurted a few sparks. “Brought it? Why didn’t you tell me? Would have saved me a trip.”
“You need the exercise. May I take you to your hotel?”
“I should get back home.”
“I think you should take the rest of the day off. I’d take you out to dinner tonight, but I’ll be in New York.”
“With your Mr. Smith?” His eyes glowed. “I’d like to meet him. But I’m not up to it.”
“You’d scare him off, anyway. But if you’re still here tomorrow, I can tell you about it.”
“That’s worth staying, then.” He closed the book but stayed in the chair. “And how’s your matchmaker? How’s that story coming?”
“That’s a good question,” Charles said. “May I ask your advice?”
“That’s what everyone wants. They think they know everything and then finally they ask someone who does.”
“I’m glad that you do. The main thing is that I’m stuck. I don’t know what to do. I won’t tell you the whole story because it’s too long and there are things that I shouldn’t say.”
“It won’t matter anyway,” Jacob said. “It’s the same advice I’ll tell you regardless.”
“And what is that, Jacob?”
