Jericho shook his head. “Will, I don’t think—”
Sam stepped on Jericho’s foot, cutting him off. “Of course we could! Why, the giant and I are a terrific team!”
“Very well, then. It’s settled. I’ll leave tomorrow around two o’clock.”
Suddenly, Miss Walker’s mysterious telephone message made sense to Jericho. Will had decided to leave long before he brought up the idea. This conversation they were having now was strictly a formality.
“Well then,” Will said abruptly, “I believe I’ll take a walk, if you don’t mind.”
Sam followed Will down the museum’s long hallway. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Professor. I’ve got this all under control.”
“That is precisely the statement that makes me worry,” Will said, throwing wide the front door. The morning sun had given way to the first warning drops of what surely would become a dismal drizzle. He shook out his umbrella.
“Don’t open that in here, Doc,” Sam cautioned.
“Why not?”
Sam shrugged. “It’s bad luck. Everybody knows that.”
“We make our own luck.” Will released the black spiderlike canopy, angling its full bonnet through the door like a shield.
After seeing the Mystical Mediums out, Sam returned to the library to find Jericho perched at a long table, reading as usual. “I’m back. Did you miss me?” he said, dropping into Will’s chair.
Jericho didn’t look up from his book. “Like typhoid. By the way, as regards the party, I told you so. And that’s Will’s chair.”
“Yeah. Comfy. I had no idea it was so soft.”
“Out.”
“C’mon, Freddy. Dad’s not home.”
“Out.”
With a sigh, Sam moved to the Chesterfield. He put his feet up on the table near Jericho’s hands just to annoy him. “Pal, we gotta pull off this Diviners exhibit. We can’t let Will lose the museum.”
Jericho gave Sam a dubious glance as he turned the page. “Since when did you become so invested?”
“I’m a caring fella. Can’t a fella want to do a good turn for another?”
“There’s gold buried in the walls, isn’t there?”
“Look, I got it good here. If the museum goes under, so do I.”
“And there we have it.”
“It’s not just me, pal. You’ve got a square deal, too. How many jobs out there for fellas who read Nietzsche and catalog gris gris bags? We need a plan if we both want to stay employed. This Diviners exhibit is just the ticket. With the professor on the road, we’ve got two solid weeks to put this thing together without him interfering.”
“He won’t like it.”
“He won’t be around to stop it, and once we put the plan in motion, what’s he gonna do? Bold action, Jericho.”
Jericho leaned back in his chair, his eyes on Sam. “So what’s your brilliant plan to get Evie to host the party? She and Will haven’t spoken since she told all of New York that she’s a Diviner.”
“Oh, I’m sure I can persuade Evie,” Sam said, hooking his hands behind his head.
Jericho turned back to his book. “Yeah? Did you discuss that last night at the Grant?”
“You’re really put out about that, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t say that.” Jericho flipped the page. “So… how is she? Did she seem happy?”
Sam shrugged. “Sure. It was a party. You know how those things go. Or no, you don’t, do you?”
Jericho ignored Sam’s jibe. “Do you see each other often?”
Sam could tell Jericho the truth, that Evie had practically kicked him out of her party. But it was more fun to let the giant think otherwise. “Oh, gee. As a gentleman, I probably shouldn’t say more than that.”
“Fine. Don’t tell me.” Jericho glanced at the clock. “It’s almost time. Go open up.”
“Me? How come I gotta go? C’mon, Freddy. It’s cold out there. If I get sick, half the girls in New York will be crying their eyes out.”
“No doubt the other half will volunteer to dig your grave.”
“Aww, Freddy. That hurts my heart.”
“You don’t have a heart. It’s your turn. Go.”
“But—”
Without looking up, Jericho pointed to the door. “You are banished. I banish you.”
“Fine,” Sam grunted. “I’ll go hang out the ‘open’ shingle. Not that it matters.”
