‘Absolutely not,’ Kai said. ‘Are you expecting them?’
‘I’ve been predicting it for a while now,’ the professor said gloomily. ‘It’s the logical consequence of removing valuable artefacts from native cultures. This sort of pandering to American greed, at the expense of the dignity and self-determination of the cultures concerned, is certain to cause long-term results—’
‘If you really believe that,’ Evariste broke in, ‘then why are you working here?’
Professor Jamison shrugged. ‘A man must eat, my dear boy, and there are remarkably few jobs on the market unless you’re in the alcohol trade.’
‘All right,’ Kai said slowly. ‘Now if you’ll just stay quiet, we’ll be out of here as soon as we’ve found what we’re looking for . . .’
‘Tell me what it is?’ the professor suggested. ‘I might be able to help.’
It was a little too easy. Kai glanced at Evariste and received a brief shake of the head in return. Clearly Evariste didn’t trust the man either. ‘I think we can manage,’ he said.
‘Fair enough,’ the professor said with a shrug. ‘I don’t suppose I could ask you to dust a bit while you’re moving the books around? It’s been a while since the cleaners came in.’
‘No,’ Kai said firmly. Dusting was for servants.
Kai waved Evariste on to the first storeroom. He wanted to attack the second one, but something was nagging at his sense of caution. The professor had given in too fast. It might have been because he was a coward, or drunk, or . . . because he was expecting someone else to turn up at any moment.
‘Sorry about this,’ Kai said. He pulled the professor’s handkerchief from his vest-pocket and stuffed it into the man’s mouth. ‘I’ll apologize later, if this is really unwarranted . . .’
Footsteps outside. The door handle jiggled. A female voice called, ‘Professor Jamison?’
Evariste appeared in the storeroom doorway, an expression of horror on his face.
Kai opened the door a few inches. Fortunately the professor wasn’t in the line of vision. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked politely.
The thin young woman on the other side of the door had a white cotton smock over her neat royal-blue suit and was carrying a pair of white cotton gloves. ‘I’m here to see Professor Jamison,’ she said. ‘It’s about the archival work he wanted done.’
‘I’m afraid the professor’s indisposed,’ Kai said.
‘Indisposed?’ the woman echoed. ‘I hadn’t been told he was ill.’
‘He had a long lunch. A very long lunch.’ Kai wondered how far he could go in conveying alcoholic stupor. ‘He felt he needed a little nap.’
There was a snorting noise from inside the room – probably the professor trying to make himself heard through the gag.
‘There, you see?’ Kai said hopefully. ‘Indigestion, too.’
The woman rolled her eyes skywards. ‘Now you listen to me here, I don’t care if the old sot is awake, asleep, or so drunk he can’t stand. I’m here to collect his copy of Melchett’s Commentaries on the Romance of the Three Kingdoms. So if you’ll kindly step aside—’
She peered into the room and her eyes went wide.
With a silent curse, Kai grabbed her shoulder and dragged her into the room, spinning round to kick the door shut behind them. He put his hand firmly over her mouth. ‘Evariste,’ he said. ‘Get another chair.’
‘We can’t keep on doing this,’ Evariste protested. ‘We’re going to run out of chairs.’
‘Hopefully there won’t be any more callers.’ The woman was squirming in Kai’s arms. ‘Look,’ he said, trying to sound calming, ‘don’t make a disturbance and we won’t gag you. We’re just here to collect a book. We’re not here to hurt anyone.’
The woman relaxed a bit. As Evariste tied her hands behind her back in the chair (with his tie this time), she asked, ‘Are you with Lucky George?’
‘Possibly,’ Kai said. ‘If we were, we couldn’t admit to it. You know how that works.’
‘Right.’ She nodded at the professor, who was fighting his gag. ‘Let me guess. He’s been playing the horses again, and you’ve come to collect on his debts.’
‘It’ll all be over very soon,’ Kai said reassuringly, hiding his own growing nervousness. How many other people were going to walk in here while they were searching the place? Or might come checking to see what had happened to this woman? ‘Just a moment.’
He walked across to the professor and removed his gag. ‘Look,’ he said, going down on one knee next to the chair. ‘We want to get this over with just as much as you do. You might as well cooperate. Where’s the Pemberton Collection?’
‘The what?’ Professor Jamison said, failing to sound convincing.
‘The collection donated by Judge Richard Pemberton in 1899,’ Evariste said. ‘The one you’re supposed to be responsible for.’
‘Oh, that collection.’ The professor looked vague. ‘Now that you mention it, I think it’s being held in the Cloisters – you know, out at Fort Tryon Park . . . ?’
It was a brave attempt. Kai respected it. He didn’t want to hurt either of their two prisoners. Neither of them deserved it. And every part of him revolted against the idea of torturing a pair of helpless innocents for information. But what was he supposed to do?
Then the woman’s earlier words gave him an idea. He walked over to the desk, where the telephone was half-buried under a mound of discarded papers. ‘It’s a pity I have to do this,’ he said to Evariste.
‘Yeah, it sure is,’ Evariste said, an uncertain note to his voice. ‘Look, we don’t need to hurt these people . . .’
Qing Song or Hu might have done so, Kai realized, and Evariste was judging him by their standards. It felt surprisingly galling. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘We need to ring up the boss and find out how he wants us to play things, since our friends here aren’t willing to talk.’
‘Yeah, that sure is a pity,’ Evariste said, with growing assurance. ‘You know how the boss is, when he doesn’t get what he wants. Still, no skin off our backs, right?’
Both the professor and the woman had gone pale. The woman was the first to find her voice. ‘You just want the Pemberton Collection? That’s all?’
‘That’s all,’ Kai reassured her. ‘We can take it from there.’
‘Downstairs, in the basement,’ she said very quickly. ‘Past the reception desk there, second right, signposted “Asian Art section”, third room on the left, check the cupboards on the right at the entrance to the section and they’ll have the full index there.’
‘Maria!’ the professor protested. But the guilty note to his voice suggested to Kai that he’d been about to crack.
‘That’s good,’ Kai said. ‘Now we’ll just leave you here. They’ll probably let you out when security does their final rounds.’
‘But the museum doesn’t close till nine o’clock tonight!’ the woman protested.