“Areyouasking for my assistance?”
“Nope.”
I grunted. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t gamble with human lives. You’re already in too deep—I know, not by your own choosing,” he added when I made a sound of protest.
I looked at Calvin again when he stopped at a traffic light. “Can I tell you something about that note?”
“Which one?” He met my gaze. “The one addressed to you, or the one Millett insisted upon showing you?”
“Erm… both.”
Calvin looked at the road. “What about them?” he asked warily.
“Don’t they seem strange to you?”
“Obviously.” The light changed, and Calvin took his foot off the brake.
“I think we can come to the conclusion that ‘a most unusual article lost to time and neglect’ is likely to be a skull, based on the follow-up message. Now, what this war of intellect reference is, I can’t say. Nor do I have any idea what sort of skull the Collector may be searching for.”
“What about a dinosaur skull?” Calvin asked. “Frankisa paleontologist.”
I made a face, propped my elbow on the door, and leaned my head against my hand. “That’s possible.”
“What? A long-lost dinosaur skull doesn’t intrigue you?”
“It does,” I insisted.
“Did you not have a favorite dinosaur growing up?”
“Troodon.”
“Mine wasStegosaurus.”
“You knowStegosauruswas one of the dumbest dinosaurs? I mean, in relation to its brain-size versus body-size,” I explained.
“Thanks for breaking a seven-year-old boy’s heart,” Calvin replied.
“Suppose itisa dinosaur skull,” I continued, “for lack of any other lead. We should assume, based on the initial message, this is already a found artifact.”
“Not something yet to be unearthed in the sandstone hills of Wyoming, is that what you’re trying to say?” Calvin asked.
“Hmm. Once found, since lost.”
“Paleontology was all the rage in the 1800s,” Calvin suggested. “Perhaps that’s the incentive toward contacting you.”
“Egyptomania and anthropomorphic taxidermy were also hip,” I countered. “But yes, if we’re talking about a dinosaur bone specific to Victorian America, then… I can see why my reputation would encourage the Collector to reach out. But I’m going to admit right now, I don’t know much about dinosaurs beyond what I read in books as a kid.”
We’d hit Midtown by then. Traffic slowed to an evening crawl as we crossed avenues. I reached into the messenger bag at my feet, took out my sunglasses, and replaced my regular lenses with them. The closer we got to Times Square, the more commercial storefronts glowed in the night, the brighter the advertising, and the more blinding the visual noise.
“Frank’s second message is strange.”
“Of course it is.” Calvin hit the brakes suddenly. A biker, bundled up in enough winter gear to look like the Michelin Man, zoomed past without a care. Calvin shook his head and started driving again.
“‘I hope you’re satisfied.’ That phrase doesn’t make any sense in the context of the forty-eighty hour warning.” I scratched the back of my head. “It stands out like a sore thumb.”
“A double meaning?”
