A Thursday Next Digital Collection: Novels 1-5 Read Free Page B

they do?”
    â€œWeird Stuff.”
    â€œI thought SO-2 did Weird Stuff?”
    â€œSO-2 do Weirder Stuff. I asked him but he never got around to answering—we were kind of busy. Look at this.”
    Turner had led me into the manuscript room. The glass case that had held the leather-bound manuscript was empty.
    â€œAnything?” Paige asked one of the scene-of-crime officers.
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œGloves?” I asked.
    The SOCO stood up and stretched her back; she hadn’t discovered a single print of any sort.
    â€œNo; and that’s what’s so bizarre. It doesn’t look like they touched the box at all; not with gloves, not a cloth—nothing. According to me this box hasn’t been opened and the manuscript is still inside!”
    I looked at the glass case. It was still locked tight and none of the other exhibits had been touched. The keys were kept separately and were at this moment on their way from London.
    â€œHello, that’s odd—” I muttered, leaning closer.
    â€œWhat do you see?” asked Paige anxiously.
    I pointed to an area of glass on one of the side panels that undulated slightly. The area was roughly the size of the manuscript.
    â€œI noticed that,” said Paige. “I thought it was a flaw in the glass.”
    â€œToughened bullet-proof glass?” I asked her. “No chance. And it wasn’t like this when I supervised the fitting, I can assure you of that.”
    â€œWhat, then?”
    I stroked the hard glass and felt the shiny surface ripplebeneath my fingertips. A shiver ran up my back and I felt a curious sense of uncomfortable familiarity, the feeling you might get when a long-forgotten school bully hails you as an old friend.
    â€œThe work feels familiar, Paige. When I find the perpetrator, it’ll be someone I know.”
    â€œYou’ve been a Litera Tec for seven years, Thursday.”
    I saw what she meant.
    â€œEight years, and you’re right—you’ll probably know them too. Could Lamber Thwalts have done this?”
    â€œHe could have, if he wasn’t still in the hokey—four years still to go over that Love’s Labor’s Won scam.”
    â€œWhat about Keens? He could handle something as big as this.”
    â€œMilton’s no longer with us. Caught analepsy in the library at Parkhurst. Stone-cold dead in a fortnight.”
    â€œHmm.”
    I pointed at the two video cameras.
    â€œWho did they see?”
    â€œNo one,” replied Turner. “Not a dicky bird. I can play you the tapes but you’ll be none the wiser.”
    She showed me what they had. The guard on duty was being interviewed back at the station. They were hoping it was an inside job but it didn’t look like it; the guard had been as devastated as any of them.
    Turner shuttled the video back and pressed the play button.
    â€œWatch carefully. The recorder rotates the five cameras and films five seconds of each.”
    â€œSo the longest gap between cameras is twenty seconds?”
    â€œGot it. You watching? Okay, there’s the manuscript—” She pointed at the book, clearly visible in the frame as the VCR flicked to the camera at the front door. There was no movement. Then the inside door through which any burglar would have to come; all the other entrances were barred. Then camethe corridor; then the lobby; then the machine flicked back to the manuscript room. Turner punched the pause button and I leaned closer. The manuscript was gone.
    â€œTwenty seconds to get in, open the box, take Chuzzlewit and then leg it? It’s not possible.”
    â€œBelieve you me, Thursday—it happened.”
    The last remark came from Boswell, who had been looking over my shoulder.
    â€œI don’t know how they did it, but they did. I’ve had a call from Supreme Commander Gale on this one and he’s being leaned on by the prime minister. Questions have already been asked in the