The Book of Air and Shadows - Michael Gruber [149]
At this, astonishment. “You must be joking!” said Donna.
“I wish I were, Ms. Crosetti. And I admit it was entirely my fault. This person secured my confidence with an entirely plausible story and I gave her the document.”
Mishkin turned his sad eyes on Crosetti. “You asked why I came to see you. Tell me, have you or has anyone associated with you been threatened in any way?”
Crosetti exchanged a brief glance with his sister, then answered: “Yeah. As a matter of fact a couple of guys tried to snatch me a little while ago.”
“These were two men, one very large and one somewhat smaller, traveling in a black SUV?”
“Yeah, that’s right. How did you know?”
“They attacked me too, last week, and tried to steal the thing. I was able to fend them off at the time, but shortly after that, they, or someone else, invaded my home, knocked out my assistant, and made off with the manuscript and the woman who was posing as Ms. Kellogg. I had imagined that she was kidnapped, but it now seems that she was in league with the assailants. I can only suppose that the first attack was to establish a bond between me and the woman, to allay my suspicions. That, or we’re dealing with two separate antagonists. Speaking of which, Mr. Crosetti, I assume you know the person listed in Bulstrode’s appointment book as Carolyn R.”
“Yes! Yes, I do. Carolyn Rolly. She’s the person who found the manuscript in a set of books. Do you know where she is?”
“No, I don’t, but Ms. Kellogg called me after she vanished and told me there was a person named Carolyn involved. Whether she’s a victim or working with the thugs I couldn’t say. But clearly, she understood that you did not part with the entire manuscript, and that there were still a number of pages, apparently in ciphered form, that you retained. Whoever’s behind this knows you have them and wants them.”
“But they’re useless,” Crosetti protested. “They’re indecipherable. Hell, whoever it is can have them right now. You want them? You can have the goddamn things….”
“I don’t like the idea of surrendering your property as a result of threats,” said Donna.
“No? Then why don’t you take it?”
“Take what?” said Mary Peg, entering with a tray full of coffee cups and a plate of biscotti.
“Albert wants to give his ciphered manuscripts to the thugs,” said Donna.
“Nonsense,” said Mary Peg as she handed out the coffee mugs. “We don’t give in to violence.” She sat down on the sofa next to her son. “Now, we all seem to be involved in this in various ways, so why don’t we all share our stories from the beginning, just like they do in the mysteries, and then agree on a course of action.”
“Mother, that’s insane!” cried Donna. “We should call the police now and turn this whole mess over to them.”
“Darling, the police have other things to worry about besides secret letters and attempted kidnap. I’ll let Patsy know what’s going on, but I’m sure she’ll agree. The cops can’t possibly put a twenty-four-hour guard on everyone in this family. We have to figure this out ourselves, which we’re perfectly capable of doing. Besides, my Irish is up. I don’t like it when bums try to muscle my people. When that happens I muscle back.”
At this, both of Mary Peg’s children stared at her, and for the first time in many years recalled certain mortifying events of their childhood. All the Crosetti children had gone to school at Holy Family down the street, and were part of the last generation of American Catholic children to be educated at least in part by nuns. Unlike the parents of all their friends, Mary Peg had taken no guff at all from the sisters and had often appeared in the chalky hallways to rail against some injustice or inattention or incompetence she had detected in their relations with her children, and continued despite all their pleas to stop. Yet at some level, they still believed that anyone who could take on a fire-breathing eleven-foot-tall Sister of Charity could handle any number of mere gangsters.
“Why