“And now for a few observations on the pursuit of Sherlockiana,” Chalmers said. “In four decades of collecting, I have had many disappointments, but-”

DA-da-da-da - DA-da-da! Indiana Jones. Apparently I had accidently switched my phone from vibrate to ringer mode when I returned it to my pocket. Heads turned my way from all around the room, but Chalmers talked on without a pause (“-many more triumphs”) while I quickly exited through the rear door near me at the back. In the hallway I pulled out the phone to see who was calling. The little screen was filled with a photo of Darth Vader.

“Good morning, Ralph,” I said. “I thought you’d call earlier.”

“I only just now bought a newspaper, Cody, having waited in vain all morning for my subscription copy to show up on the lawn.”

The Observer has a robust website for a small paper, and Lynda is pushing it strongly into social media as well with an active Facebook fan page. But apparently Ralph doesn’t read the online version. The tone of his voice was accusatory, as though it were somehow my fault that he didn’t get his paper. I hadn’t stolen it, although that wasn’t a bad idea. I made a mental note.

“Listen,” Ralph went on, as if I had a choice, “you let that story get completely out of control. ‘A case for Sherlock Holmes’ - this is just the sort of sensationalist nonsense that I feared.”

“That little thing? Probably nobody even saw it.”

“You know bloody well it dominated page one! I’ll be getting phone calls from the corporate sponsors about this as soon as they get off the golf course.”

“Appeal to their sense of humor.”

“They have none. Not when it comes to money. These are businessmen who have shareholders or partners to answer to. When they put up the funds to maintain this Chalmers Collection they didn’t expect some of it to be stolen out from under us almost immediately.”

“Then you should have had your curator-”

“Cody, you’ve got to get control of this thing. We need some positive press.”

“I’m working on it. A TV4 crew from Cincinnati is taping Chalmers right now. I’m going to try to get them to stay for the presentation this afternoon, so don’t forget to comb your hair.”

With Father Pirelli in Rome for an important conference of his religious order, the Congregation of the Transfiguration of Our Lord, Ralph was on deck to accept the Chalmers Collection on our president’s behalf at the ceremony.

“Hmmm,” Ralph said, “that certainly would be helpful publicity. And I’ll be sure to mention the corporate sponsors. Perhaps, Cody, you can stave off the disaster in this situation after all. You might even save your job.”

Ralph’s last three words were still ringing in my ear as he hung up the phone. He was happy for the moment, but I wasn’t. I knew only too well that you could never count on a story going the way you hoped. Ralph’s big moment could just as easily show up on the cutting room floor as on the six o’clock news. Even worse, it could be a disaster if he got caught saying the wrong thing on camera.

Chapter Nine - Smile for the Camera

“There are only three limitations to collecting Sherlockiana or anything else,” Woollcott Chalmers said, leaning forward against the lectern. “They are time, space and money. The most precious of these is time. I have taken up enough of yours. Thank you for your interest.”

Renata Chalmers took her huge purse off her lap and hopped up to power down the laptop. Smiling Sam waved his camera around the room to get shots of the crowd clapping.

I met Mandy Petrowski in the corridor.

“I could go on camera now if you like,” I told her, “but it’s going to be too noisy to do it here. Chalmers will probably be taking questions from the audience for another fifteen minutes.”

But the mind inside that beautiful head of hers was going off in a different direction altogether. “How about if we get B-roll inside the room where the stuff was stolen?”

B-roll is video. I shook my head. “Sorry, no can do. It’s been sealed by the police. Why don’t you hang around for the ceremony where Chalmers officially presents his collection to the college? It’s been moved to the library and some of the collection will be on display there.”

“Well...” Her hair bounced like a Slinky when she cocked her head in thought.

“Our provost will be there,” I prodded. “We consider this a very important event.”

“We don’t have time for that crap,” Smiling Sam said, coming up behind me. “There’s a two o’clock assignment back in Cincinnati.”

So much for Ralph’s TV debut.

“Then maybe I can get Mr. Chalmers to go over to the library with us as soon as he finishes here,” I suggested. “He and his wife can walk you through the display. I guarantee that’ll look better on the tube than the talking head of him giving his lecture. And the outside of the library would make a nice backdrop to shoot me talking about the police investigation.”

“You’ve got all the angles covered, haven’t you?” Mandy said, laughing.

“I try. Let me round up Mr. Chalmers.”

I slipped back into the Hearth Room. Sebastian McCabe, his immense body scrunched into a chair to the side of the podium, saw me immediately. He stirred himself to raise one eyebrow like a question mark, then returned his attention to Hugh Matheson at the center of the room. If this was the amateur sleuth at work, Max Cutter had nothing to worry about.

Matheson was standing at his chair.

“... taste and selection have anything to do with it, Woollcott?” he was asking. “Or are all your efforts simply focused on acquiring things that other collectors want simply because they want them?”

Chalmers forced a twisted smile onto his face and froze it there. “I only go after what I want, Hugh,” he said in a surprisingly strong voice. “Trouble is, I want everything.” Some chuckles responded around the room. “And as you well know, I usually get it.”

“What a shame for you that getting isn’t always the same as keeping,” Matheson retorted.

I was glad the TV camera was no longer recording the action as Matheson sat down. The look Chalmers gave him was venomous.

* * *

The Lee J. Bennish Memorial Library is one of the oldest buildings on campus, a solid brick Georgian structure with ivy climbing up the sides. As I’d promised, it made a picturesque background for my on-camera appearance as college spokesman. Since Mandy and I had discussed the questions in advance - and I’d even suggested a few of them - there were no surprises. I described what was taken and how the loss was discovered.

“How much were the stolen items worth?” Mandy asked.

“The loss is incalculable, really, because everything taken was unique. But it’s safe to say they were worth several hundred thousand dollars to a collector. The college had the entire collection insured, of course.” Well, that was true, but nobody had any idea yet how much the insurer would cough up for the stolen goods, which had not been separately insured. Have you ever tried to reach your insurance company on a weekend?

“How did the thief get in?”

“That is still under investigation by Campus Security.”

“Do they have any leads?”

“The investigation is ongoing.”

After the interview we found Woollcott and Renata Chalmers already in the rare book room with our young curator, Gene Pfannenstiel. The place smelled like it had been closed up since about 1840. It was roughly the size of the Hearth Room, but felt even larger because of the thirty-foot ceiling and a balcony running around all four sides. Guards seemed to be all over the place - at least today - which eased my mind considerably about security.

Highlights from the Chalmers Collection were set up in the center of the room, many of them in glass cases - this time locked. There were foreign language editions of the Holmes canon, comic books, miniatures, artwork, statuary, dolls, and playbills.