“Of all the books, I wonder why that one?” Charles said. He had a fire put up in the fireplace for the last cool evening of spring.
“What, dear?”
“Derek. Of all the books, why he would…” Charles couldn’t help but smile. “Why did he pick the Locke?”
Dorothy closed the book she was reading. “I know that you and the employees do that, but I do not allow puns in this house.”
“It was unavoidable.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “Why did he select the John Locke? He had hundreds of books just in his office. He didn’t have to mangle an antique.”
“Which antique books did he own?”
“Well let me see. I could look at the computer at the store. But I think I can remember from opening them last Monday.”
“There were thirteen?”
“Yes. Write them down to make sure I remember them all. The first one was Adam Smith, Wealth of Nations. Then Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. Thomas Paine, Common Sense, the Rights of Man and Age of Reason.”
“One volume?”
“Yes, all in one volume. John Adams, A Defence of the Constitutions of Government of the United States. And then there was John Locke, of course, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding. That was the fifth one I opened.”
“Then I was with you after that.”
“And I was paying even closer attention. The next one was Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan. Then Montesquieu, The Spirit of Laws. Edmund Burke, Reflections on the Revolution in France. Voltaire’s Philosophical Dictionary. Hume’s A Treatise of Human Nature. Rousseau’s The Social Contract, and de Tocqueville’s Democracy in America. And The Federalist Papers.”
“That was the last one?”
“Yes. How many was that?”
“Thirteen.”
“Wait. That can’t be all. That was thirteen?”
“That was thirteen. Is something missing?”
“Yes! It’s obvious.”
“What?”
“Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason. The de Tocqueville is an extra-we were starting on the nineteenth century-but the rest are all the standards of the Enlightenment. It wouldn’t be complete without the Kant. Morgan thought it was fourteen, and Lucy Bastien said fourteen, too, but I knew I’d only bought thirteen at the auction. I didn’t think that one would have been missing.”
“Did you sell him a Kant?” Dorothy asked.
“Oh yes, I remember it now, and even the conversation we had about it. I’m embarrassed that I didn’t notice it wasn’t with the others. I would have realized it right at the time as I was opening the books, but I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“Why wouldn’t it have been with the others?”
“I don’t know. It should have been. I wonder where it is.”
“Just more questions.”
“More questions,” he said. “And I told Mr. Kelly that no books were stolen.” He fished through his wallet and pulled out a business card. “I suppose I should call him.”
“On Sunday?”
“Just to leave a message.” He pushed the buttons on the telephone.
“Frank Kelly of the FBI. Please leave a message.”
“Mr. Kelly, this is Charles Beale of Alexandria Rare Books. You came by my shop Thursday morning. I said at the time that I had all of Derek Bastien’s antique books, but I’ve realized I don’t, that one is missing. I don’t know if that’s important but I wanted to correct the statement I made to you.”
“Immanuel Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason. One German. He seems rather alone among the French and British, Charles.”
“You could give him Goethe as company.”
“I don’t like Faust. For a government employee, it cuts too close to home.”
“Have you been making any deals lately, then, Derek?”
“Always, but not for my soul. It’s usually just removing paragraph C from section Two in return for three more votes in the committee.”
“I suppose it depends on what paragraph C says.”
“Nothing, Charles. It was only put there in the first place so we could make a deal later on.”
“That Reason doesn’t seem very Pure, Derek.”
“Kant would not approve? Germans are too logical for such nonsense, or at least they think they are. They always take their philosophy one step too far.”
“The Germans dive deeper-and come up muddier. I believe it was Henry Steeds who said that.”
“Quite. I prefer the mud of practical deal-making to the mud of philosophy, Charles.”
“Is that what you do, mainly, Derek? Make deals?”
“Mainly. Twist arms, give a little and take a little.”
“Do you usually get what you want?”
“Most of the time, Charles, most of the time.”
“But what do they want in return?
“They give me their souls, and I give them unending life.”
“You’re joking, of course, Derek.”
“Yes, of course, Charles. I’m joking.”