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Page 22.
Chapter 18.
 "Okay," McCarthy said to Jeff, "here is where we get going." The door closed, and it was just Jeff, McCarthy, and Matt Stark in Jeff's office.
McCarthy's eyes were alight with a vision. "First we craft a nice letter. We'll work out the details in a moment. Then we return the manuscript..."
Jeff interrupted: "It would be more realistic, and maybe work faster, if we DON'T return the manuscript. We send a letter that says in effect, hey baby, your book is the hottest thing since sliced bread, and we can't wait to publish it. How soon can we meet you, buddy?"
"Sure," McCarthy said. "That's a good pitch. Now, we deliver the letter to the Box-Is-U listed on the manuscript."
"And he's going to walk up and open that box?" Jeff asked. "Is he a total fool?"
"I don't know yet," McCarthy said. "He may be utterly delusional and that would simplify our task. My gut feeling is that he's got some workaround. We've had that Box-Is-U store staked out all afternoon, and we'll keep eagle eyes on it. If he shows up, we grab him."
"And prove what?" Jeff asked. "That he sent a nutty book that is being rejected by every publisher in Raritania? Nothing illegal about that."
McCarthy said: "We watch you. He tries to toss you in a clock. We grab him and toss him in the can. Simple."
"Suppose he kills me?"
"You won't wind up in any clock," McCarthy reassured. "You will be shadowed every step you take."
After McCarthy had left, Jeff called the museum and spoke with Nikos Stavros. "Does the name Louis Beering mean anything to you, Mr. Stavros?"
Stavros appeared to give it an honest moment of reflection. "Why, no, not that I can think of. Is he some long-lost relative? That would play hell with the inheritances, wouldn't it?" Stavros chuckled.
Jeff rolled that thought around and discarded it. "If there were an heir, I'm sure he'd beat a path to Raritania and shout from the rooftops."
"What is it then?" Stavros sounded genuinely perplexed.
"Nothing, Mr. Stavros. Just a stray thought. Any luck in locating that missing book yet?"
"Oh God," Stavros groaned, "I have been beside myself. It's ultimately my responsibility, and if that volume is lost or stolen, I'll never forgive myself. Nor, I'm afraid, will Mr. Beering."
Jeff hesitated. "I asked Mr. Beering about it."
"You did?" Stavros sounded devastated.
"I'm sorry," Jeff said, "I had to. You see, I thought he might have taken it." He remembered the faint but unmistakable whiff of cigar smoke he'd noticed in the museum on Saturday.
"That doesn't make sense," Stavros said.
"I know," Jeff said, "it doesn't. A number of things are no longer making sense. Don't worry, we'll get it ironed out."
"I sure hope so," Stavros said forlornly.
Jeff next called Lexa's office.
She sounded elated. "Well, hello there. I didn't expect to hear from you so soon."
Why did her voice send shivers up and down his spine? Warm shivers? "Lexa," he said, "I need to speak with you."
Said in a mock-serious deep voice: "You sound mysterious, mon ami. Is this about a Maltese falcon or something?"
"No, I'm afraid it's something serious. Can I meet you?"
"Today after work?" There was an unmistakable warmth in her voice, that promised she would not say no if he insisted.
"I'm afraid I must insist."
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