Firebird Read Free Page A

slanted off to one side. He and his wife stood with their backs to the imager. They were leaning against each other, looking out to sea. Though they were not clasped in each other's arms, it was a remarkably romantic picture.
    A photo depicted him walking through a terminal, carrying a small piece of luggage, with a notebook slung over one shoulder. “This one's of special interest,” she said.
    “Why's that?”
    “He was leaving for that last flight.”
    “Did something happen on the flight?”
    Another show of disdain. “At the end of it,” she said. But she seemed disinclined to go further on the subject, so I let it slide.
    There was always a possibility somebody would be interested. I decided to let Alex make the call. “Very good, Ms. Howard,” I told her. “We'll be in touch with you shortly. If we decide to accept the commission, Mr. Benedict may have some more questions for you. And he'll want to see the actual material.”
    She let me see that she had some issues with my competence. “To be honest,” she said, “I'm surprised there'd be any hesitancy on your part. I mean, you've said yourself that you deal in artifacts connected with people of historical interest. If my brother-in-law doesn't fit that description, I find it hard to imagine who would.”
    “Ms. Howard, you have to understand that he was a physicist. And I've no intention of demeaning that, but scientists don't usually become celebrated. And it's celebrity that drives the price. We have to be sure he fits the profile in which our clients are interested, and also that we ourselves are in a position to do him—and you—justice.”
    She got up. “That sounds like double-talk.”
    “I'm sorry if it does. I'm trying to be honest with you.”
    “Of course you are. And I assume you won't object if I make the offer to someone else?”
    “That would be your choice, Ms. Howard.”
    “Just in case,” she said, “I'll leave the chip.”
    We walked back out to the front door. It opened, and she strode through onto the deck. “I'm always surprised,” she said, “that these small companies don't train their people better.”
    I smiled politely. “How about his AI? Is that available?”
    “No,” she said.
    “Is there a reason? That could be the most valuable object in the estate.”
    “No. Elizabeth wiped it.”
    “That's odd. Why would she do that?”
    “I have no idea. I didn't realize its condition until after she'd passed.”
    Alex wasn't in the building. When Howard arrived, I'd been sending out notification bulletins to clients, letting them know we'd found the artifacts they'd requested or, in several cases, that they were unavailable, or that we hadn't been able to locate them. Often objects just vanish. Someone gets them who's not connected to the rest of the world, or who has no wish to deal regardless of the price being offered. Occasionally, thieves make off with something, and it disappears from view for an extended period. Valuable artifacts have vanished for centuries, only to surface again.
    Anyhow, I went back to work and was just getting ready to break for lunch when Alex came in. He'd been doing his workout routine, which now consisted mostly of swimming over at the Delancey pool. He brushed the snow off his coat and gave me a broad smile, the implication of which was that all the world was bright and enticing. I smiled back. “I see Audree was there today,” I said.
    He shook his head. “No, she couldn't get off this morning.”
    “When you write your autobiography, Alex, I have a title for you.”
    “And that would be—?”
    “There's Never a Shortage of Beautiful Women at Delancey's.”
    He grinned. “It's too long, Chase.”
    “Well, I don't know—”
    “And you never want to start a title with There.”
    “Oh.”
    “You have a lot of talent, sweetheart, but you'll never be a writer.” He pulled off his hat and scarf. “It's cold out there.”
    It was the first storm of the season, and the earliest