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A short, stocky man, with blue eyes and short brown hair looked up as they entered the room. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re looking for Benjamin,” Dane said, giving the room a quick scan. “Can you tell us where we might find him?”

“You just did.” He smiled and shook hands with Dane. “Expected an old fart, did you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but motioned for them to take seats around a nearby table.

“If you’re looking for me,” he said with a sigh of resignation as he settled into a chair, “you must be interested in Fawcett. We’ve had quite a bit of that lately. People looking for the lost city, trying to track his last expedition. Those are the normal ones. Then there are the weirdoes…” He dismissed the thought with a wave, propped his feet on the table, and folded his hands on his chest. “So, into which category do you three fall?”

“Technically, we’re searching for someone who falls into the first category,” Dane said. “We are looking for information on Fawcett’s last expedition, but only in order to find a friend who went off in search of him.”

Benjamin’s face remained impassive.

“We’re not making this up.” Kaylin showed him a copy of the missing person’s report she had filed with the Charleston Police. He scanned it with bored eyes, made to hand it back to her, then snatched it back.

“This chap looks familiar.” He held the paper close, scrutinizing the photo of Thomas which Kaylin had paper-clipped to the report. “I remember him. He didn’t want to look at any of the usual Fawcett documents. He only wanted to see Fawcett’s copy of The Lost World.”

Dane sat up a little straighter. “Did he find anything in it?”

“Couldn’t say.” Benjamin shrugged. “Truth be told, he seemed a bit disappointed. Looked at it for over an hour. He wasn’t reading it, mind.”

“How could you tell?” Dane didn’t understand. What else would Thomas have been doing?

“He was flipping through too fast, looking at the margins and the spine through a magnifying glass. Even turned it upside-down a few times. I don’t know what he was hoping to find, but whatever it was, I don’t believe he found it. Left here quite down.”

Dane felt hope draining away, but as long as they had come this far, they might as well take a look at the book. “Could we see it? Is it still on display?”

Benjamin frowned, the lines in his forehead deepening. “Sorry, but it’s gone missing. It was gone from its display when I arrived yesterday morning.”

“Someone stole it?” Kaylin’s voice was soft with dismay.

“I assume so. Odd, though. No alarms, nothing on the security cameras.”

Dane’s heart sank. “Can you tell us; was there anything… unusual about the book? Was there anything written inside of it?”

“It is one of a kind. It was inscribed to Fawcett by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle himself. Beyond that, I couldn’t say. It’s not like I handled it on a regular basis.” Benjamin frowned. “As long as you’re here, is there anything else you want to take a look at?”

A cool sense of conviction flowed through Dane’s mind. This was no coincidence. It couldn’t be. Someone had gotten here first and taken the book.

“Did Thomas say anything about where he might be going, or what he had planned?” Bones had reversed his chair and sat with his chin resting on his arms. “Maybe the dude had something more in his head than just following Fawcett’s last expedition.”

“Not that I recall. As I said, I only remember him because I thought it odd that an American would come all the way to London simply to look at a copy of one of Fawcett’s personal possessions.” He flashed them a knowing grin. “But I see now that it’s not as unusual as I had thought.”

“Is there anything…” Kaylin bit her lip. “Sorry, I don’t exactly know how to ask this. We think this might be more than just a simple matter of someone getting lost in the Amazon. Are there any stories that connect Fawcett to something that might interest people today? I mean, interest them enough to…” She swallowed hard.

“I understand what it is you’re asking. There are more legends surrounding Fawcett than I care to know. To call them far-fetched would be an understatement. Fawcett found Z and lives there as a white king like Prester John. Fawcett found a lost white race that has preserved the secret knowledge of the ancient civilization of your choice. Even if one of them were true, it would be of great academic interest, but nothing more.” He raised his head and pondered the ceiling for the span of three heartbeats. “If your friend has gone chasing after Fawcett, and has not returned, the most likely explanation is that the same thing happened to him that has happened to too many Amazon explorers in the past. I am sorry.”

Dane ground his teeth in frustration. The stolen book couldn’t be the end of the line. The book was significant — he was certain of it. But Benjamin had said that Thomas had examined the book, yet seemed disappointed, as if he had not found what he was looking for.

“Do you know of any museum or library that has Fawcett’s personal items on display?” Dane asked.

“There is no Fawcett museum. Most of the items of interest relating to Fawcett are here. Is there anything aside from the book that I can show you?”

“I don’t suppose so,” Dane said. For some reason, he did not feel comfortable asking about the Fawcett painting, and, in any case, it was the book they wanted, and the book was not here.

“You might look up Andrew Wainwright and give him a ring.”

“The guy who donated the portraits downstairs?”

“Yes. He’s a descendant, and has probably forgotten more about Fawcett than I’ve ever known. At any rate, good luck with it.”

They shook hands with Benjamin, thanked him for his time, and made their way back to the entrance.

“Bummer,” Bones said as they descended the stairs and passed through the lobby. “I thought we’d get a little farther than that.”

“Me, too,” Dane agreed.

Sarah hailed them as they approached the exit. “That was a short visit. Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Benjamin was a great help,” Dane said.

“You’ll call me about dinner, then?” She eyed him like a tigress contemplating exactly how she wanted to play with her food before eating it.

Before Dane could answer, Bones sidled up to the counter.

You didn’t steal the Fawcett book, did you Sarah?” He grinned lasciviously. “We really wanted to see it. Maddock might have to frisk you…”

“Thanks, Bones!” Dane grabbed his friend by the arm and steered him toward the door. “I’ll talk to you later, Sarah. Thanks again.”

* * *

As soon as they were out the door, Sarah left the front desk and hurried to the nearby break room. Terry looked up as she entered, and gave her a hopeful smile. Sooner or later she would have to break down and go on a date with the poor tosser, but for now, the occasional flirtatious smile or touch on the arm was enough to make him as helpful as she needed him to be.

“Terry, would you be a dear and mind the front for me? I need to phone someone, and it’s rather private.”

“Not a boyfriend, I hope.” He tried to play it off as a joke, but failed.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” She forced a laugh. “I just need a chat with my doctor — female stuff, you know.”

Red-faced, Terry assured her that he understood completely. She doubted he knew much of anything about female anatomy or the issues relating to it. In fact, she harbored a suspicion that he still lived with his mum, but he could be counted on to do what she asked of him, and that was what mattered.