with this quote, all they had to go on was chapter and verse, and as a consequence-'
'They quoted from the wrong Bible,' finished Wolfe, nodding. 'Very neatly reasoned.'
'And the very presence of that same attribution in the book I saw means there was a real Bainbridge diary and somehow it wound up in the Library of Congress.'
Wolfe pondered for a moment. 'So the real diary is discovered at the Foundation during the excavations in the twenties, but for some reason we don't yet know the Foundation doesn't want it made public. They have a fake diary constructed, create the story of a hoax, and the whole episode is forgotten.' He thought this over for a moment. 'But how on earth did the diary get from the Morris Estate to the Library of Congress's basement?'
'I've been thinking about that, too,' said Benjamin. 'Remember the fire Seaton told us about? He said they had other books to be donated to the library, crated and ready to be shipped. When that fake diary was created, the original was probably put away somewhere safe. Probably the same safe place as the collection was put during the fire. And afterwards, in the confusion…'
'The real diary was sent off to the Library of Congress, to fifty years of obscurity.' Wolfe laughed. 'Still, that doesn't tell us why the Foundation, or the Morrises, whoever is behind this, needed a fake diary in the first place.'
'That I cannot answer,' said Benjamin. He decided it was time for his next revelation.
'I went to the library to get the two Bibles. While I was there, the librarian asked if we were done with the books Jeremy had checked out. She was particularly interested in the one by Warren Ginsburg. She said it was quite valuable, and she was eager to get it back where it belonged, in the rare books collection-especially as it had been missing all those years.'
'Missing?'
'Until Jeremy found it, rooting around for books about King Philip's War. Apparently it had been filed there, in the Ws, probably for Wampanoag.' He laughed, but Wolfe didn't, so he hurried on. 'She said it was particularly valuable because, according to the official Foundation history, Ginsburg had been commissioned to write it to commemorate the discovery of the Bainbridge diary. That's why he was here. '
'But then,' Wolfe's eyes narrowed, 'Ginsburg had to have seen the diary. The real diary. Was there any mention of it in his book?'
Benjamin shook his head. 'No. As I said, the book was… strange, disconnected… as if whole sections of it had been lifted out. It's especially… sinister, given what happened to him and his lover, Bayne.'
'Who the hell is Bayne?'
'Oh that's right, I hadn't had a chance to tell you. According to Stoltz, Ginsburg and Bayne-Bayne painted that extraordinary mural in the foyer-were lovers. And their affair ended with Ginsburg murdering Bayne, and then committing suicide.'
Wolfe tried to make a joke, 'I had no idea the Foundation had such a high mortality rate among its fellows,' but his face remained grim. 'And when did the librarian say Fletcher made this discovery?'
'This past Wednesday.'
'The day before he called to request your services?'
Benjamin nodded. 'Yes.'
'Well then,' said Wolfe, rising from his chair and beginning to pace back and forth. 'Where does this leave us?'
'Fletcher came here to complete work on a computer program, one he designed to do some sort of analysis of the Cold War. He contacts this Fyodor Myorkin, and something he learns sets him off on a hectic bout of investigation. Something he learns from that piques his interest in these Indian… excuse me, Native American wars. He interviews Dr. Stoltz, and then decides to contact this Orlova at the Russian Cultural Center. And you. And in the middle of all this he decides he simply must talk to Edith Gadenhower about bees.'
Wolfe stopped pacing and turned to Benjamin.
'Does that about sum up what we know so far?'
'Well…' Benjamin was thinking of something, a missing link in the series of events as Wolfe had laid it out. 'We also know Dr. Stoltz told Jeremy about the diary's discovery, so we have every reason to believe Fletcher knew that the original diary was supposedly at the Morris Estate.' Benjamin looked up at Wolfe. 'So wouldn't it be logical to assume that he reacted the same way we did? That he asked to visit the estate and see what he thought was the original?'
Wolfe looked quite steadily at Benjamin, smiled appreciatively.
'Perhaps he did just that,' he said. 'Sometime late last Wednesday, would be my guess.'
'The day before his heart attack?' asked Benjamin.
'Precisely,' said Wolfe. He took the glass and walked away from the table. He poured a drink, took a sip, then changed his mind and set the glass down.
'Which brings us back to why,' Wolfe said. ' Why was that diary so important to Dr. Fletcher?'
But Benjamin's mind was wandering, thinking about what he'd seen-or thought he'd seen-in the mural. Perhaps Wolfe could make sense of it. Then he began to wonder just how he would explain his unease: a tiny, indistinct symbol? Possibly familiar faces? A vague feeling about something not quite right in the mural's depiction of American history?
It all started to sound too fantastic, something he might well have imagined. He decided it would be best to wait until he'd had a chance to actually examine the real diary, go over his father's notes again-and have another look at the mural.
Wolfe noticed his concentration, asked impatiently, 'What?'
Benjamin shook his head. 'Nothing. Look, shouldn't we take all this to Dr. Terrill? Get his permission to travel to D.C. so I can look at the real Bainbridge diary? And then you could consult with this Anton Sikorsky. In fact, we could also find this N. Orlova, at the Russian Cultural Center. We can kill three birds with one stone.'
Wolfe frowned at him. 'Poor choice of cliches. And that, Benjamin,' he said ponderously, 'is the one thing in all this confusion that I am absolutely certain we should not do. Not yet, anyway.'
Wolfe seemed to come to a decision.
He switched off Fletcher's computer, put it into his briefcase. He surveyed Fletcher's room carefully. Satisfied, he took Benjamin by the shoulder and steered him out of the room, closing and locking the door behind them.
'Let's set this,' and he held up the briefcase with Fletcher's laptop inside, 'in your room for now. Then let's you and I join the throng in the dining hall. And Benjamin,' he grabbed Benjamin's arm, and Benjamin noticed his grip was tense, almost painful, 'let's keep it to chitchat at dinner, shall we? Should we run into anyone. Like, for instance, Dr. Soderbergh?'
Benjamin looked at him, nodded.
And then they walked off down the hall, toward Benjamin's room. But Benjamin noticed that Wolfe hadn't bothered to put the strip of tape at the top of Fletcher's door, as though there was no longer any reason to keep it secure.
CHAPTER 23
Wolfe and Benjamin sat on the same bench in the quad, beneath the giant sycamore tree, where'd they been only a day before. Now, however, instead of the bright afternoon sun scattering light across the tops of trees spread out across the low hills beyond the Foundation grounds, it was late evening. The first stars were beginning to appear in the deep purple western sky, and there was a nip in the air that had caused Benjamin to turn up the collar of his jacket.
They'd arrived at the bench after a long walk around the Foundation's grounds; a walk that had seen Wolfe remain almost completely silent and deep in thought; a walk that had followed their very brief appearance in the dining hall.
And Benjamin had felt it was just that: an appearance. As though Wolfe wanted them there for everyone to see, chatty and happy, exchanging hellos with some and a few quiet words of grief over Edith's death with others.
Benjamin had seen Gudrun there, sitting at a table with Stoltz. She'd waved him over, but Wolfe had subtly if
