bottle of beer and an editorial in The Washington Star that took an extremely dim view of a Russian reply to a State Department note protesting the treatment of a couple of American tourists in Moscow. Not only didn’t The Star much care for the tone of the Russian note, but it also seemed to feel that the two tourists would have done far better to have spent their vacations at Grand Canyon or Rehoboth Beach.
“Would you please listen carefully to what I say, Mr. St. Ives?” the woman said, and it sounded as if she were reading the words and wasn’t at all used to it.
“I’m listening,” I said.
“You will fly back to New York tomorrow morning and stay in your room at the Adelphi Hotel until six o’clock in the evening. If you have not received a phone call by then, you can leave. If you are not called on Tuesday, then on Wednesday, at 11 o’clock in the morning, you will go to the first phone booth on the left in the lobby of the Eubanks Hotel on East 33rd. At exactly 11 o’clock you will be called. Do you want me to repeat it?”
“No,” I said. “I understand.”
There were no good-bys and when she hung up I went back to my chair and newspaper and beer, but I could no longer get interested in the danger of air pollution and the beer seemed flat. I tried to remember how many calls there had been during the last four years from nervous men in phone booths who had something that they wanted me to buy back for the persons from whom they had stolen it. Sometimes they whispered, sometimes they talked through their handkerchiefs, and a few had even attempted foreign accents. Each of them had his own complicated set of instructions, sometimes so complicated that they probably bordered on paranoia. Each of the schemes had begun as somebody’s daydream and each was wrapped in a curious childlike quality of “let’s pretend.” But if they seemed the product of a child’s fantasy, they invariably were enveloped in the unemotional and unpredictable cruelty that children often have.
My trade had one compensation, however, and I took it out of my wallet and admired it briefly. Then, tired of playing at Silas Marner, I put the check back, walked over to the phone, and dialed a number. When it stopped ringing I asked for Lieutenant Demeter. He came on briskly, barking “Robbery Squad, Lieutenant Demeter,” loudly enough for the phone to crackle.
“This is St. Ives. They just called. It was a woman.”
“Go on,” he said.
“They want me to go back to New York and wait for them to call. If they don’t call me at my place tomorrow, they’ll call me at a booth in a hotel on Wednesday.”
“How did she sound?”
“Like she was reading it.”
“She say anything about money?”
“No.”
Demeter sighed. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll get you some company tomorrow.”
“Who?”
“They’ll be wearing badges with New York Police Department on them. Or the FBI if you want. It looks like it’s interstate now.”
“No,” I said.
“What do you mean no?”
“Just what it usually means. I’ve been hired to buy back the shield. If I start moving around with cops or FBI agents in tow, there won’t be any buy. When I get the shield back you can have everything I’ve learned and everything I’ve guessed and between now and then I’ll keep you filled in, but until I get the shield back I work alone. If that doesn’t fit in with your plans, the museum will have to find another go-between.”
“That’s probably a damned good idea,” Demeter said. “I’d be all for it if the other side would, although I hear that they won’t so it looks like we’re stuck with you.”
“Get unstuck,” I said.
“What’d you say?”
“I said make up your mind.”
He was silent for a moment. “All right, St. Ives, we’ll go along. But if you’re interested in what I think, which you’re probably not, I think you’re making a mistake. The reason I think you’re making a mistake is because whoever
“Would you please listen carefully to what I say, Mr. St. Ives?” the woman said, and it sounded as if she were reading the words and wasn’t at all used to it.
“I’m listening,” I said.
“You will fly back to New York tomorrow morning and stay in your room at the Adelphi Hotel until six o’clock in the evening. If you have not received a phone call by then, you can leave. If you are not called on Tuesday, then on Wednesday, at 11 o’clock in the morning, you will go to the first phone booth on the left in the lobby of the Eubanks Hotel on East 33rd. At exactly 11 o’clock you will be called. Do you want me to repeat it?”
“No,” I said. “I understand.”
There were no good-bys and when she hung up I went back to my chair and newspaper and beer, but I could no longer get interested in the danger of air pollution and the beer seemed flat. I tried to remember how many calls there had been during the last four years from nervous men in phone booths who had something that they wanted me to buy back for the persons from whom they had stolen it. Sometimes they whispered, sometimes they talked through their handkerchiefs, and a few had even attempted foreign accents. Each of them had his own complicated set of instructions, sometimes so complicated that they probably bordered on paranoia. Each of the schemes had begun as somebody’s daydream and each was wrapped in a curious childlike quality of “let’s pretend.” But if they seemed the product of a child’s fantasy, they invariably were enveloped in the unemotional and unpredictable cruelty that children often have.
My trade had one compensation, however, and I took it out of my wallet and admired it briefly. Then, tired of playing at Silas Marner, I put the check back, walked over to the phone, and dialed a number. When it stopped ringing I asked for Lieutenant Demeter. He came on briskly, barking “Robbery Squad, Lieutenant Demeter,” loudly enough for the phone to crackle.
“This is St. Ives. They just called. It was a woman.”
“Go on,” he said.
“They want me to go back to New York and wait for them to call. If they don’t call me at my place tomorrow, they’ll call me at a booth in a hotel on Wednesday.”
“How did she sound?”
“Like she was reading it.”
“She say anything about money?”
“No.”
Demeter sighed. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll get you some company tomorrow.”
“Who?”
“They’ll be wearing badges with New York Police Department on them. Or the FBI if you want. It looks like it’s interstate now.”
“No,” I said.
“What do you mean no?”
“Just what it usually means. I’ve been hired to buy back the shield. If I start moving around with cops or FBI agents in tow, there won’t be any buy. When I get the shield back you can have everything I’ve learned and everything I’ve guessed and between now and then I’ll keep you filled in, but until I get the shield back I work alone. If that doesn’t fit in with your plans, the museum will have to find another go-between.”
“That’s probably a damned good idea,” Demeter said. “I’d be all for it if the other side would, although I hear that they won’t so it looks like we’re stuck with you.”
“Get unstuck,” I said.
“What’d you say?”
“I said make up your mind.”
He was silent for a moment. “All right, St. Ives, we’ll go along. But if you’re interested in what I think, which you’re probably not, I think you’re making a mistake. The reason I think you’re making a mistake is because whoever
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