The Cartographers(39)
“At night, the new phone system shuts down, and all calls in and out are automatically routed through the front guard desk. Your father’s went that far, but it seems he hung up before Henry went back to the desk from his rounds and was able to put it through.” She looked at Nell. “So, he didn’t try to reach out in any other way?”
Nell shook her head, still struggling to believe it.
Irene sighed. “I’m sorry. All of this is so strange. If only we knew what he’d wanted to tell you.”
Nell took a breath. This was her chance.
“Actually, I think that I might be onto something. I’ve been going through his personal things, talking to some of his old friends . . . I might be able to figure out what he was working on.” She paused. “I think it might have been the reason the library was burgled.”
Irene stared at her, stunned. “What is it?”
Nell swallowed. She’d definitely made a start, but it wasn’t enough to tell the illustrious chair of the NYPL what the map actually was—a cheap old thing that could barely be classified as a map compared to the countless historical treasures on the walls of the library—without anything concrete to prove it. She’d made the mistake of showing a discovery too early once in her life. She wasn’t going to make it again.
“I’m not sure yet,” she said. “But as soon as I am, I’ll bring it to you.”
Irene smiled, wavering between surprise and relief. “I’d be indebted to you. The entire library would.” She considered something before continuing. “You still have a very loyal friend there, you know. He’s stormed my office every morning and afternoon with impassioned speech after speech about how brilliant you are, and what a mistake it was for us to lose you.”
“Swann is too kind,” Nell laughed politely.
“Well, between his tireless campaign and now this revelation, I’m convinced. I know I can’t make up for what happened all those years ago, but I do hope that you’ll allow me to at least try. Senior researcher, perhaps? Assistant director of conservation?”
Nell held back a gasp.
Swann had done it.
He had managed to sway Irene just enough to give her an opening.
Everything she wanted—her reputation, her job, her library, her life—within reach again. If there was anyone with enough power to force the academic community to accept her back into the fold, to give her a fighting chance to prove herself again and restore her name, it was the chair of the NYPL.
“I promise I’ll figure out what my father was working on,” Nell finally said, fists clenched in determination.
Irene nodded, pleased. “This was supposed to be a surprise, but the board has been planning on renaming a portion of our collection after Dr. Young for some time. It’ll be a bittersweet honor now, but I think it’s even more important that we do it.”
Nell gasped. “That’s incredible.” Someone in her family would have a collection in the New York Public Library named in their honor. It made her dizzy to imagine. And, despite their history, she had to admit her father deserved it. No other scholar in recent memory had brought in the priceless maps he had.
Irene smiled. “I’m glad you think so. The invitations are being sent today. There will be a small ceremony at the library on Sunday night, where we’ll unveil the dedication.” Her expression grew solemn again. “The police will be there, just for safety’s sake. That might be the perfect time to inform them of Dr. Young’s possible significant project as a potential motive for the crimes and let them take over from there.”
“That’s just two days from now,” Nell replied, alarmed. Barely enough time to even conduct an ink analysis on an incoming exhibit specimen, let alone to complete the kind of research she’d require to be fully confident she had the map Irene needed, and why.
Irene grimaced slightly. “I’m afraid if we wait any longer, we could look suspicious, which is the last thing we want for the library, after everything that’s already happened.”
Nell fought down her fluttering panic and managed to nod. “I understand,” she said.
“I’m glad. But I know how you feel. If possible, I’d so much rather have one of our own”—Nell thrilled secretly at the phrase our own including her again after so long—“solve this part of the puzzle. Someone who knows and loves maps the way Dr. Young did.”
“I won’t let you down,” Nell replied.
Irene smiled again and glanced at her watch. “Thank you for your help, Nell. I look forward to seeing you Sunday—and to welcoming you back to the library properly, I hope.”
As Nell stood by the window, watching Irene rush through the front door and flag down her driver, she crossed her arms and held her breath to stop herself from bursting into hysterical laughter in the middle of her father’s funeral reception.
She was so close.
So close to getting back everything he had taken from her.
The deadline seemed impossible, but if anything, she was even more determined now. She would not let this second chance slip through her fingers.
A blur of motion caught her attention, and Nell glanced up to see Francis heading out of the main party and down the hall.
“Francis,” Nell called.
But when he saw her, his pace only quickened.