Day Four
July 24, 1952
Thursday Afternoon
From the warehouse, Wilde checked the BNSF office to see if Alabama had shown up there, which she hadn’t. When he got back to the office, she wasn’t there either. He paced next to the windows with a cigarette for all of one minute before the door opened.
London stepped in.
Her face was beautiful but serious.
She put a piece of paper on his desk.
“That’s the original map,” she said.
Wilde picked it up.
Compared to the two he’d seen previously this one really did look authentic. It had dirt smudges on it, reddish in color, not indigenous to Colorado.
“How’d you get it away from Bluetone?”
The woman lowered her eyes.
“I’m going to tell you something and you’re going to hate me,” she said. “I had it all along.”
The words slowly sunk in.
“Are you telling me you had this last night when we were busy giving the guy a fake?”
Her eyes met his briefly then darted away.
“Yes.”
Wilde pounded his fist on the desk.
“That little trick may have cost Alexa Blank her life.”
“I know,” she said. “That’s why it’s here now.”
Wilde looked at her in disbelief.
“Is this really the original?”
“Yes,” she said. “No more tricks.”
Wilde studied it again.
“It’s time for you to leave,” he said.
“Wilde-”
“I’ll handle it from here.”
“But-”
“Go! Do it now before I say something I’d rather not.”
She gave him a short look, then walked out the door and closed it gently behind her. Wilde set a pack of matches on fire and lit a cigarette from the flames. From the window he watched London disappear down the street.