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You may already know that Pr. Saunders lives very close to the scene of the crime. Number 417 Museum Place is only a couple of minutes’ walk from the spot where the body of v. Grumh was found. Also, the pr. walks his dog around the parking lot of the museum around the time that the murder took place.

I would send all this information to the police, but I think it should come from you.

Sincerely,

X

Some background about the stater might be useful at this point. Experts have called it the most rare and valuable coin still on the open market. Unlike many ancient coins, it appears newly minted, so much so that, until modern times and advances in dating and metallurgic analysis, it was rumored to be a forgery. Referred to in the numismatic literature as a Thasos Satyr and Nymph stater, it depicts the former, bearded and long-haired and in an exaggerated ithyphallic state, about to ravish the latter whom, gesticulating, he holds on his lap. It dates from Thasos, Thrace, circa 490 BC.

The coin has a provenance worthy of a Hollywood film. Napoleon himself is said to have owned it. Then someone in Himmler’s entourage. That person apparently obtained it from one Maurice Debas, a Parisian coin dealer, later shot as a collaborator. He had obtained it, no doubt very cheaply, from a refugee fleeing Hitler.

About a year ago, rumors started in the numismatic world that the Dresden, as it is generally called, would be coming up for auction in London. Max Shofar, through his connections, learned who was negotiating with Sotheby’s. He convinced von Grümh to fly to London with him and go directly to the source. That turned out to be a London dealer by the name of Sidney Grabbe. Grabbe had it on consignment from a Kuwaiti sheik impoverished by a lavish lifestyle who was in desperate need of ready cash. They paid the necessary amount and walked off with the prize.

I went out to Doreen’s little office and made several copies of the letter. My heuristic proclivities roused, I wanted to go over the style for clues as to who might have written it. Of course, its belabored style might have resulted from an effort on the part of the writer to conceal his identity. The bit about the Frock wanting the coin is true enough but not generally known. That institution has a truly superb collection of ancient money. I say money because they have some superb examples of ninth-century Chinese paper currency as well as a veritable hoard of old coins left by August Frock himself.

The question I asked myself was, Who would want to implicate Col Saunders? Max Shofar? But why? De Buitliér? I retrieved some of the memoranda the curator had sent me. There were affinities, but nothing definite. He and Saunders might be rivals if the worst happens, that is, should the board decide to force me out, leaving Wainscott to take us over. I wondered if it might not be Saunders himself? Some people, through a streak of perverse vanity, would not object to being considered capable of murder.

But I couldn’t really concentrate. I was pondering when and under what circumstances to send the letter to Lieutenant Tracy. Or, rather, in what manner to present it to him. For instance, with the benefit of my opinions after I had perused it more thoroughly? With a curt FYI on a Post-it? With nothing but itself?

The more I pondered the question, the more my anger grew. We had worked closely together. We had esteemed each other in an unspoken friendship. I had helped him solve a number of unfortunate deaths here at the museum. To put it in Di’s parlance, he owed me.

At the risk of being charged with withholding evidence, I decided to hang on to the missive until I had interviewed Saunders. What was it evidence of? That there had been a wrangle for a rare coin? That the man didn’t like the murder victim? That he might have been walking his dog in the area when the murder occurred? Besides, the anonymity of its author vitiated an already weak circumstantiality.

I