Mercer was attempting to steer Tally out of the room, but he stood firm.
“Have you met my babies?”
“Patience and Fortitude,” I said. “They’re beautiful.”
“They’re smart, young lady. Better than beautiful. Never caused me a moment’s trouble. The only price for their loyalty is a small bit of food.”
“Are you too tired to talk to me for a few minutes, Mr. Hunt?”
He was staring at Patience, and I turned to look at the foursome behind me. Minerva and her brother seemed frozen, fearful that Jasper would betray whatever secrets this dysfunctional family held close.
“I’m always tired. But I like to talk to young girls.”
“We’ve just come from the public library. We know how generous you’ve been to them over the years.”
“I used to have a wonderful library of my own. Right here. It’s all gone, plundered by thieves.” Hunt lifted his bent forefinger in the air.
“That’s not true, Father. I’ll be happy to show Ms. Cooper your library,” Tally said. “It’s an extraordinary collection, as you might imagine.”
Hunt grasped at my hand. “Yesterday I took a long walk in the park- Central Park. Do you know it? I couldn’t find my way home. It was frightening, actually. I walked for miles and miles and still couldn’t get out of the park.”
“Don’t get agitated, Father,” Minerva said, coming up beside up. “That was just a dream you had. You haven’t walked in the park for years.”
“Did you say your name was Alice?”
“Almost, sir. It’s Alex. Alexandra.”
“Did you ever meet Alice?”
“Sorry?” I looked to Minerva for help.
“Alice Liddell. The girl for whom
“Would you like me to come back with
Why did that children’s story play such a recurring role in these events?
Jasper Hunt looked up at me and smiled. “Of course I’d like that.”
“Do you remember a young woman named Tina? Tina Barr?”
His eyes closed and he repeated the name several times, as though trying to locate it in a crumbling memory bank.
“Do we know her, Minerva?” he asked.
“Yes, Father. That nice girl who was helping you with your books. Cataloging the collection, restoring some of your Melvilles.”
“Then I know her, if my daughter says I do. Was that your question?” He looked at me again.
“Do you remember talking with her?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side two or three times.
“Did you know that she left you to go to work for Alger Herrick?”
“Herrick? There’s a lucky man,” Hunt said. “I once thought he’d be a fine match for my Minerva. She didn’t agree-did you, dear?”
Minerva Hunt cackled like a witch. “I’m glad you remembered that.”
“What became of Alger? Have I seen him about?”
“He’s got a wonderful apartment here in New York, Mr. Hunt,” I said. “Full of the most magnificent maps.”
“You can’t read maps, young lady,” he said, almost scolding me. “You can’t hold them, fondle the smooth bindings, finger the parchment and vellum, and caress them, as you can books. I don’t care for maps. Herrick’s folly, not mine.”
“Tally told me that your father had a map,” I said, checking with Talbot Hunt as I tried to get to the subject. The son looked grim, avoiding my eyes. “One of the rarest in the world. It had a dozen separate pieces, twelve panels.”
“Did you know my father was mad, young lady? Absolutely mad.”
“She wants to know about the Waldseemuller map, Father,” Tally said, his arms folded and his words sharp.
“They all want the map, boy. I wouldn’t have any visitors if it weren’t for that damn map, you know. How long has it been since you’ve been by to see me?”
“Don’t take it personally, Father. Tally’s afraid he might run into me if he came to call,” Minerva said, smoothing the front of her skirt. “Two hours together and it already seems like a month.”
The old man mumbled something under his breath. I thought I heard him say, “Even the Jew.”
I leaned closer to him. Had Jonah Krauss been to see him, too?
Minerva queried him. “Even a few what, Papa?”
Jasper Hunt’s chin rested on his chest and his eyes closed again. His short defense of bookmen-his ancestors and himself-and the troublesome questioning about the map had seemed to devour all his energy.
“My father’s a doctor, Mr. Hunt. He’s a brilliant man, and an especially kind one, too.”
Hunt’s glassy eyes fixed on me while I talked.
“It’s a remarkable legacy he’s set in place,” I said, looking back at Minerva and Tally to see if either of them reacted to the sound of that word. “Your father, sir-and your grandfather-their philanthropic giving has been a stunning gift to so many great institutions. What do you think the Hunt legacy is?”
“Still searching for that, are you? My father would find it amusing, I’m sure. Tried to take it all with him, in case there was no one left to care. He’d be so pleased that we’re sitting here today, trying to figure what he was all about, talking about him. That keeps him alive in a strange way, doesn’t it?”
“Searching for what, exactly?” I wanted to go back to that.
“‘The evil that men do lives after them,’” Jasper Hunt said. “That’s usually the case, isn’t it?”
I froze at the sound of the Shakespearean words that had been scrawled on the paper found with Tina Barr’s corpse.
“But what evil?” I asked. “Your father was good and generous to so many people.”
“He quoted that phrase all the time. Probably figured no one would long remember his good deeds. Just his madness,” Hunt said, his eyelids fluttering closed. “Is it time for a cocktail, Tally?”
Minerva answered. “Not yet, Father. You need your medications.”
I could see that the conversation was a strain, and I stood up, patting the hand that held the golden cat.
Minerva picked up a small silver bell and rang it until the butler appeared in the doorway. “Will you help me settle Father inside?”
“Certainly, madam.”
“Mind if we ask you a few more questions?” Mike said to Tally Hunt as he led us toward the living room.
“I should think you’d have your fill of answers by now.”
Mike showed that he wasn’t leaving by settling in to the deep pillows of a sofa covered in a silk damask print with birds and butterflies. “So, it looks like you shot up here for a surprise visit as soon as you saw the panel of the map that we found this morning.”
“Hardly seems to be illegal, Detective.”
“Who tipped you off to it?”
“It wasn’t Jill, if that’s where you’re going. The library is a closed world, a tight one. Word travels fast.”
“Your father’s trust and estate lawyer?” Mike asked. “Your sister doesn’t seem to know.”
Talbot stood by one of the windows that overlooked the museum. “It was that fellow Garrison. Francis X. Garrison.”
“The lawyer Brooke Astor’s son used to try to defraud his mother,” I said. “Battaglia indicted him.”
“I’ve been interviewing for a new lawyer, actually. Haven’t hired one yet. I’ve been my father’s business advisor for years. I’ve taken good care of his affairs.”
“I’d think you’d have a hard time convincing a surrogate’s court judge about any changes to the will that have been made in your favor lately, considering the condition of his health,” Mercer said.
