The Cartographers(19)
But seeing Felix now, older, more confident, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was happy again. Haberson was so gigantic and profitable, it made companies like Amazon and Google look small. It was practically a country unto itself. She couldn’t imagine what it was like there.
After a few seconds, Felix folded the map back up again. “Well, your father was right the first time—it seems like a regular old piece of junk. I don’t know why he would still have it after all these years.”
Nell let out a sigh. “It’s ridiculous. These were worth less than pennies when they were actually in use. Why would anyone risk breaking in to the library to try to steal it?”
Felix looked up sharply. “What?”
“The NYPL was burgled last night,” she whispered, as if saying it too loud might make it happen again. “You’ll probably start seeing the news stories anytime. That’s why I messaged you.”
His face was incredulous. “And you and Swann think this map, this gas station pamphlet map, was the target. That’s what you’re telling me.”
She shrugged nervously. “It’s all just speculation at this point—”
“Do you think this map also has something to do with your father’s death?”
“I don’t know—”
“What is really going on, Nell? If you want me to actually be able to help Swann, you have to tell me!”
“Look, Dr. Young died, and there was this map, this inexplicable piece of junk map, hidden in his portfolio,” she cried. “And then a day later, the breakin happened, but Swann’s assistants swear they’ve triple-checked the inventory, and nothing was taken.”
Felix was still looking at her, but the intensity of his suspicion had cooled slightly, so she no longer felt like she was being burned through. “Why go to all the trouble of breaking into a place as revered as the NYPL only to not take anything?” he muttered to himself. “Unless . . .”
She nodded. “What they were looking for wasn’t there. This was the only thing not on display or in the back collections last night.”
Felix studied the map again with renewed, hesitant interest.
“I don’t know if they’re connected. But I want to find out—for Swann.” She picked up her father’s portfolio from the counter and handed it to Felix. “He made a copy of the library’s security footage from the breakin. He said the police found it inconclusive. He was hoping that you could look at the video, maybe using some of Haberson’s fancy tech, and tell him what you see.”
Felix opened the portfolio, and his gaze jumped to the bottom, to a little rectangular shape pressing against the inner pocket where she’d hastily shoved it—the USB drive Swann had given Nell before she left the library.
“Inconclusive how?” he asked, as he went to pry it free.
“I’m not sure,” she said. “He didn’t tell me. I think he doesn’t want to influence you before you view it.”
“Does this go with it?”
Nell looked up. “What?”
“There’s something else here.” Felix was working something else out of the same pocket, where it had been jammed so deep Nell hadn’t noticed it. “I think when you stuffed the USB drive in, it helped dislodge it a little.” He finally yanked it free and held it out to her—a little piece of paper.
A note from her father?
“It’s a business card,” she said. It was faded and creased from where it had been stuck for years. There was a scribble on the back, a hastily sketched map of some city streets downtown in the Chinatown area, she guessed, perhaps done by her father as a way to remind himself of where the business the card advertised was located.
She turned it over.
RW Rare Maps
By Appointment Only
They both gasped at the same time as they read the words.
“No way,” she choked.
“Your father . . .” Felix rubbed his face in amazement. “Your father was doing business with Ramona Wu?”
Nell shuddered at hearing the name out loud. She’d never met Ramona Wu in person, back when she was still moving in industry circles, but she didn’t have to—Ramona’s reputation far preceded her. And it was not a good one.
Ramona was technically a private rare and antique maps dealer, a consultant who worked with wealthy clients to help them build their personal collections, but dealer was not what her father and Swann called Ramona on the rare occasions she came up in conversation.
Deceitful was the word they used.
There were plenty of dealers they did like. They often even worked with them to convince clients to loan or donate some of their most historically significant pieces to the Map Division for temporary exhibits. But throughout the industry, Ramona was known to operate on the more slippery side of the line. It seemed she could find any map a collector wanted—the provenance papers just didn’t necessarily follow.
For anyone as scrupulous as Nell’s father or Swann, and for most of the amateur collectors who knew even a little about the field, that alone would have been enough to convince them that the maps Ramona acquired were stolen or fakes. For anyone with any kind of standing to maintain, they would never be caught dead dealing with Ramona. Nell’s distinguished father most of all.