She groaned in frustration. “What bothers me most is that the Tamerlane was here the entire time, safe and sound, until I figured it out and placed it in harm’s way. It wasn’t in Robin’s clutches until I put it there.”
At Dr. Hooper’s office, his secretary informed them that the entire board was meeting in the Trustees Room, and escorted them over when they explained it was urgent. She entered first, and then motioned Sadie and Nick to follow.
Thirty faces turned their way as Dr. Hooper scowled from the head of the table. It couldn’t have been a more daunting setting for Sadie to have to deliver her news. “I understand there’s been some kind of commotion this morning,” he said.
Sadie stood at the farthest end of the table, the arrangement like a very narrow firing squad. Nick stayed beside her and, when she faltered, confused as to how to begin or what to say, took over. She was beyond grateful. Together, they filled the board and Dr. Hooper in on the missing child, the suspected library thief’s identity, the recovery of the folio title page, and the discovery—and disappearance—of the Tamerlane.
“Well, I’m glad the girl is safe,” said Dr. Hooper. “She’s related to you, Sadie?”
“Yes. She’s my niece, and we are quite certain that the thief was her babysitter. A woman named Robin Larkin.”
“The police have it in hand and will be following up,” added Nick. “I’ll be working with them closely, of course.”
Dr. Hooper grunted. “So what you’re saying is you found a rare book that’s been missing since 1914, and then lost it minutes later?”
“Let’s not be so harsh, Humphrey.”
The speaker was one of the trustees she’d given a tour to a couple of months ago. Mr. Jones-Ebbing.
“Why not?” countered Dr. Hooper.
“Because they’ve done a remarkable job figuring out what the hell was going on here.”
Sadie appreciated his support, and noticed a couple of the other board members nodding their heads.
She knew she should let it go and get out of there. She needed to check in on Lonnie, LuAnn, and Valentina, and Nick was probably itching to consult with the police. But she couldn’t help herself. “Sir, if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, Sadie?”
“I would suggest again we put out the news that the Tamerlane is missing, to every bookstore we know that accepts rare books, as well as the Antiquarian Booksellers’ Association of America. The booksellers need to be on the lookout, and those that might be tempted need to know that they won’t be able to resell it easily, without attracting attention. It’s the only way we can possibly get it back.”
“Hold on there.” Mr. Jones-Ebbing spoke up, addressing the board, not Sadie. “We’re due to announce our new capital campaign in two weeks, timed with the opening of the exhibit. I really don’t advise letting word of this get out, as the press would have a field day. Especially with the fact that it’s been stolen not only once, but twice. I strongly suggest we hold off until right after the announcement. That way we can secure the big donors’ commitments before they learn the news.”
The men and women around the table murmured in agreement.
“We’ll discuss this further,” said Dr. Hooper. But by his tone, Sadie knew the alarm would not be sounded. “Thank you for the update.”
She paced in the hallway outside Nick’s temporary office while he made a couple of phone calls, too worked up to sit still. The shortsightedness of the board made her furious. What was the point of being a library if you didn’t put the books first, ahead of the big checks? In three weeks’ time, the Tamerlane would be in Europe or somewhere else far, far away, lost once again and this time for good.
She thought of how dear everything in the Berg Collection had become to her, of how terribly she’d miss it if she was never allowed back. Not only the books, manuscripts, and letters, but the quirkier pieces, like Jack Kerouac’s harmonicas, Vladimir Nabokov’s butterfly drawings, that damn cat-paw letter opener.
Wait.
She remembered one of the last times she’d seen the letter opener, and as she did, something in her mind clicked, like a gear snapping into place on a bicycle.
Nick finished up and together they walked outside.
“Thank you for coming to the rescue,” said Sadie. “I’m glad you were there today.”
“Sure thing.” He looked uneasy. “I’m sorry they didn’t listen to you.”
“Well, no surprise there.” She studied him, trying to figure out how to make her next request. “If I ask you to do something really, really strange, would you? I have an idea. But I need your help.”
“What is it?”
She looked up at the revolving door. “Oh no, hide!” She grabbed Nick by the arm, pulling him around the far side of one of the lions, where she crouched low to the ground.
“What on earth are you doing?” he said.
She slowly stood back up, looking out toward the street before taking hold of his arm yet again and yanking him down the steps.
“Follow me. Now.”
“Where are we going?” asked Nick as Sadie practically shoved him inside a taxi.
“We’re following that cab,” she said to the driver, before turning to Nick. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s in all the old movies.”
“No, I mean, why do you want to follow that particular one?”
“Because Mr. Jones-Ebbing is inside it.”
“What do you want with him?”
“Maybe this is crazy, but the way he acted seemed off to me,” she said. “He’s new to the board, yet jumping in like he’s a top dog about not wanting it to leak to the press.”
“Isn’t that what board members are supposed to do, worry about things like that?”
“When he first joined, I gave him and some others a tour of the library. He reached out and touched everything he could, even when I asked him not to. Like he couldn’t help himself.” She remembered him sliding his finger along the blade of the letter opener, as if he owned it. “My hunch is that he’s involved.”
“His reasoning about keeping the theft a secret was sound, if you consider his point of view.”
“There’s something wrong there, I’m sure of it.” Nick started to respond, but she cut him off. “Trust me, okay?”
The cab pulled up to a brownstone in the East Fifties.
“Must be where he lives,” said Sadie.
“Or maybe it’s where the Stolen-Book Lovers Association is having its annual meeting.”
“Very funny.”
Jones-Ebbing got out of his cab and walked up the steps, opened the front door, and disappeared.
“Now what?” Sadie let out a sigh of frustration. “We can’t just walk in there.”
They got out of the taxi and sat on a stoop on the other side of the street, partially hidden from view by some garbage cans.
Across the street, a woman walked quickly, head down. Long brown hair cascaded from underneath a baseball cap. Even so, Sadie recognized her immediately. “Bingo. It’s Robin.”
“Lonnie said she had short blond hair.”
“It’s a wig. She’s the right size, and come on, who walks around on a cloudy day wearing huge sunglasses and a baseball hat?”
“Celebrities?”
“No. Book thieves. But that doesn’t explain how she got past security with the book still on her. They would have checked her bag. How did she get out?” Sadie held her breath and only let it out when the woman turned up the same stairs that Jones-Ebbing had.
“Double bingo,” said Nick.
The door opened, and Sadie just made out Jones-Ebbing’s profile, ushering Robin inside.
“We have to go in there.” Sadie knew it wasn’t feasible, or even legal, but still. “What do we do now?”
Nick stood. “Finally, they’re on time for once.”
Two police cars glided down the street, no sirens sounding, but moving fast.