He moved on to the entertainment section, and saw some more of his photographs. This time they were people who'd attended the showing. Mr. Kindred hadn't paid as much for them, but he'd suggested that the subjects might want to buy copies.
That left the review of the exhibition. Sebastian found it, and cracked up laughing.
Across the table, his mother lowered her copy of the Times. "What's so funny?"
"Have a look at who Mr. Kindred got to do the review of Mrs. Garlow's exhibition."
Mary Ellen did as she was told and giggled. "'Reminiscent of the more extreme forms of Cubism.' Brianna Flannery really doesn't like Heather Garlow."
"So why did Mr. Kindred ask her to review Mrs. Garlow's exhibition?" Sebastian asked.
"You're the one who claims to have learned so much from your business studies. Think!"
Sebastian did as he was told. He thought. He looked at the paper, and eventually it came to him. "The Times doubled in size inside a week, and they're carrying a lot more advertising." His mother's slow clap response told Sebastian he'd hit the nail on the head.
Friday
"Free at last." Sebastian all but sang the phrase as he hurried up the path. For him, school was finally over. He'd survived the last day of preparatory Latin, and now he was ready to attend his first lectures at university. There was a pile of messages stuck to the fridge for him. They were phone orders from shops wanting more books. There was also a request for an urgent delivery from an outfit called the Round theRing Guided Tours. They wanted two cartons delivered to their office as soon as possible. There was also a contact phone number.
Sebastian hung up the phone and made a note in his sales book.
"You're looking awfully cheerful," his mother said.
"A tour business based in Rottenbach just ordered two cartons, and they'll pay cash on delivery if I can get them to them today." His mother didn't look quite as happy about his good news as he would have liked. "It's good news, Mom."
"But that's a lot of money to carry around."
Sebastian stared at his mother while he did the necessary mental calculations. Forty books at wholesale was nearly twenty-eight grand. Sure he'd processed similar sized orders before, but payment had usually been by check. "I'll be careful."
"I'd rather you waited until your father got home."
"But they need the books now. Apparently they didn't know about the book until a client showed up with a copy asking to be shown where the various photographs had been taken from. They have a couple of parties coming in tomorrow morning and they want to have them available before they set out."
Mary Ellen sighed. "At least take a gun, and be careful."
Coming from his mother, the suggestion that he take a gun was a reflection of just how worried she was. "I will."
The gun he selected was a Beretta 92. He slipped that into a small-of-the-back holster and set about loading his bicycle. Two cartons filled the box he'd fitted to his rear carrier, leaving the front carrier free for his camera bag. He lifted his jacket to show his mother he had a gun and set out.
The road to Rottenbach took Sebastian up the north arm of Route 250. He made a comfort stop at the church at Drakes Run and had just returned to his bike when heard the roar of a motorcycle reverberating in the valley. He thought immediately of Denise Beasley and her friend, and how he'd missed getting photographs of Minnie Hugelmair riding her motorcycle into city hall. He grabbed his camera and hurried to the road. He saw the biker heading his way and got ready. The rider was past in a flash, and Sebastian could only hope he'd got the photograph. He knew the theory of photographing a moving vehicle, he just hadn't had a lot of practice, especially with one moving so fast.
Suddenly Sebastian realized he couldn't hear the motorbike any more. He changed over the double-dark, got on his bike, and pedaled madly in the direction the biker had gone.
When he rounded the corner he slowed down. The biker might be in trouble, but not of the kind that Sebastian could help with. As he cycled past he glanced at the man standing by his bike while the policeman wrote him a ticket. He had such a hangdog expression on his face that Sebastian couldn't help himself. He lifted his camera.
Ten minutes later, and a mile up the road, Sebastian was cursing his luck. He unloaded his bike and turned it over so he could free the back wheel. Why couldn't it have been the motorcyclist who picked up the bit of glass?
He was just reassembling his bike after repairing the puncture when a pickup truck pulled up alongside him and Officer Blake Haggerty leaned out the window. "You need a lift anywhere?"
Sebastian almost said no, but then he thought, who better to help him collect nearly thirty thousand dollars than a couple of police officers. "I've almost got it fixed, but I don't suppose you could help me do something else?"
"What?" Officer Heinrich Steinfeldt asked.
He pointed to the two cartons of books. "I'm supposed to be delivering those to a place in Rottenbach, and they've said they'll pay cash." He paused. "It's a lot of money, and I'd feel a lot better if you were with me."
"How much money?" Blake asked.
"Just under twenty-eight thousand dollars."
The two police officers exchanged looks and shrugged. "Why not? Toss your bike in the back."
The rest of the trip to Rottenbach was uneventful, as was the transaction, and the trip to the Grantville bank to deposit the money. Sebastian's mother just about fell on Officer's Haggerty and Steinfeldt in gratitude when they delivered Sebastian safe and sound to the front door. However, as a mother she knew how to show proper appreciation, and both men left weighed down with cake and cookies.
With another forty books sold Sebastian headed over to his gran's house to develop the photographs he'd taken. He was on good terms with Gran's tenants, and after letting them know he was there he disappeared into the darkroom his grandparents had built into the back of the garage.
The shot of the down-timer being talked to by Officer Steinfeldt was as good as he'd hoped it would be, but the shot of the motorbike speeding by was even better. He pulled out a packet of the biggest paper in the darkroom-some of the twenty-four by thirty inch paper being made for the Kirlian Imaging industry, and made as big a print as he could.
He had just put the large print away in the glazing press to dry when there was a firm knock on the door.
"Can we talk to you for a moment, Herr Jones?
Sebastian didn't recognize the voice, but it didn't sound threatening. "Just a moment!" he called. He did a quick check that he'd put everything away, checked that the prints hanging over the sink were dry enough not to attract any dust, turned on the light, turning off the red safe light at the same time. Then he opened the door.
They were Suits, and very expensive Suits at that. Sebastian recognized one of them. She was an up-time female-young and attractive. The other was a down-time man-not so young, and not so attractive. Actually, he looked a lot like a well-dressed bouncer, but no bouncer could afford tailoring that good. Sebastian looked beyond them to see the reassuring sight of Gran's tenants. He waved to them, and the Suits looked to see who he was waving at. "How can I help you?"
"We believe you took some photographs of Don Francisco Nasi today," Tommasina “Tommie” Genucci said.
"I've just printed them," Sebastian said. "Do you want to have a look?" Sebastian stepped away from the door to let them in.
Tommasina removed the photo of Don Francisco being given a traffic ticket from the drying line and studied it. "We've been empowered to negotiate for the negative of this photograph and any prints you might have made."
Sebastian took a few seconds to work his way around what she'd said. Finally deciding it meant they had been asked to buy it. He looked at the photograph. The guy really did look embarrassed to be stopped and given a ticket. Still, Tommasina hadn't said Mr. Nasi was their client, and Sebastian didn't want to embarrass the guy anymore than he already was. "Sorry, but it's not for sale."