Paul Robertson - According to Their Deeds

“Uh, no. I don’t think I’ll rock that boat. But you think he could have picked it up or something. Then let’s just say that’s what it is. That’s what I’ll put in my report. So,” he said, suddenly louder, “what do you think? Raymond Chandler?” His eyes darted toward the stairs, then back. “Would that be a good place to start if I wanted to get a few of these?”

“Chandler?” Charles was distracted. “Oh, of course. Or anything on the shelf there. Some of them are less expensive.”

“Right. I’ll think about it. Maybe next time.” Mr. Kelly tipped his hat to Alice and turned his broad shoulders toward the door.

“Hey, boss.” The front door had just closed. Angelo was on the stairs.

“Oh! Yes, Angelo?”

“I am going out to a place.”

“All right. Yes, go ahead. When you get back, we need to talk.”

“What did Mr. Kelly want?” Dorothy asked.

“Oh, nothing. Just stopping in. He’s still interested in mysteries.”

“Did Angelo leave?”

“He left. I told him we’d talk when he got back,” Charles said. “Did you see him? How long after I went down did he go by?”

“He was right behind you when you went downstairs. There was a message from Vivian at Dupont Travel. She said she had the names of the guides you were asking about.”

“Oh. Of course. Was she sure they had John Borchard on their tour?”

“She had a long story about how they needed to get a special helmet for him. His head was too big.”

“So he really was gone when Derek was killed. Well, I need to think things through. I think I’ll go down to the basement for a little peace.”

“Mr. Beale?” More of Alice was almost more than he could take. “You have a telephone call. It’s Mr. Leatherman. From California.”

Charles paused. “That might be just what I need. I’ll take it in the basement.”

“Good morning, Jacob,” Charles said.

“Too early to tell.”

“That’s the advantage to time zones. Ours is almost over. To tell the truth, it hasn’t been the best.”

“The afternoon will probably be worse.”

“By all indications, it will be. What can I do for you, Jacob? Are you wanting the benefit of my immense experience and wisdom?”

“If you ever get any, I might, except you’d be old as I am.”

“And you’ll be wiser by decades then, so I’ll never catch up. I won’t even try.”

“You’re thirty years behind, Charles.”

“Thirty years doesn’t seem that long any more. So what can I do for you, Jacob?”

“I want to know if you found out anything about your Homer.”

“I did. Good, and bad, and then strange.”

“Strange? Tell me, Charles.”

“I had Morgan track Victoria’s schoolbooks through to possibly a 1925 Sotheby’s auction.”

“That’s the good.”

“Yes. Then Sotheby’s was a brick wall. They wouldn’t say a thing?”

“Not anything?”

“Nothing. No confirmation, no information, nothing.”

“They should at least have told you something,” Jacob said. “Is that the strange part?”

“No, that’s the bad, because the strange is much stranger. This morning I had a call from a Mr. Smith. He was English.”

“English?” There was an odd cackling sound. “English? Smith? Sounds like you might have caught a big fish there, Charles.”

“Well, I wonder. What do you think? It must have been Sotheby’s that alerted him. No one else would know I had it, besides the seller in Denver.”

“But somebody’s big enough to hush Sotheby’s, and we both know who that would be.”

“Yes, someone who’d be very interested in a book of Queen Victoria’s,” Charles said.

“Then I think what you think. What did this Mr. Smith say, then?”

“He will meet me in New York on Wednesday.”

“Wednesday? When will you leave?”

“That afternoon. The appointment is for nine in the evening.”

“Then I’ll come in the morning.”

“You’ll come, Jacob?! Here?”

“How else am I going to see it before it’s gone?”

“But you were just here two weeks ago.”

“Then I’ll come again. I want to see a book that Victoria studied Homer from.”

“You are always welcome. Will you need a place to stay? Do you know when you’d arrive?”

“I’ll have my girl here do all that. Maybe I’ll take that overnight airplane.”

“The red-eye? It’ll kill you, Jacob.”

“Something has to. I’ll be there Wednesday morning.”

“Then I’ll be here. I have a meeting early Wednesday, but after that I’ll be very glad to see you. Have a good flight, Jacob.”

“No such thing.”

“Jacob Leatherman wants to see the Odyssey. He’s flying out.”

“Just to see the book?”

“Just to see it. He’ll be here Wednesday morning. I suppose Angelo’s hearing won’t take long.”

“Did you have any peace in the basement?”

“A little. I’m still not sure what to write for the judge.”

“Hey, boss.”

Charles and Dorothy turned in unison toward the door.

“You’re back,” Charles said. “How did it go?”

“Do you still want that lady?”

“From the auction? Yes, of course.”

“She is at that place I went.”

“You mean, you saw her? Today?”

“She is at that place.”

“What place?”

“It is this one.” He handed the list to Charles, and pointed.

“Tyson Estate Agents. Tell me about it.”

“I went to that place and I went into it and I said I was there to pick up their package and I said a lady called. And that lady comes out and says she never called for a package, and so I left.”

Angelo finished and waited.

“What is this place like? Is it in an office building?”

“No, it is just a building and it has the office rooms in front and a warehouse building.”

“I see. That would be for storage?”

“That building is to store things in.”

“Well. Good for you, Angelo. That’s very good.”

“Do you want me to go to any more places?”

“No. That’s enough. Tell me, Angelo, did you understand everything at the meeting this morning?”

“That lady, she’s a boss over everybody?”

“She is an important person, but Judge Woody is the most important person for you. We’ll go see him Wednesday morning.” Charles glanced at Dorothy. “Sit down, Angelo.”

He sat, as wary and taut as he always stood.

“At this meeting on Wednesday, the judge will decide whether to keep you on probation or not.”

“I will go to jail?”

“No,” Dorothy said, quickly. “No. Nothing will make you go to jail.

The judge will be deciding if he will end the probation completely.”

“You would be free,” Charles said. “No probation, no jail. It would all be over.”

“The probation is three years,” Angelo said. He was paying very close attention, his face suspicious but still impassive.

“Congresswoman Liu thinks it has been long enough. She has asked the judge to cancel the rest of it.”

“Why does she do that?”

“I don’t exactly know,” Charles said.

“But Angelo,” Dorothy said, “what do you think of being off probation?”

“There is no jail?”

“There is no jail,” she said. “Either nothing will change or the judge will just end the probation.”

“Will the judge do this?”

“We don’t know,” Charles said. “He’ll decide Wednesday morning. We’re asking what you think about it.”

Angelo didn’t think. “That judge, he will think and he will decide.” He stood. “Do you want anything else?”

“No. That’s all.”

When he had silently disappeared, Dorothy said, “You didn’t tell him that we would tell the judge our opinion.”