Chapter Nineteen
“Alright,” Jeremy said, looking across the table at Melissa, David and Elizabeth. “I’ve asked everyone to meet at my apartment so that our collective wisdom might be able make some sense out of this whole mess. So let’s review. The first two pages of the Beethoven manuscript are missing and have been ever since that day I showed them to David. There has been no sign of them whatsoever. The police seem clueless. I’m not even sure that they’ve really spent any time at all trying to trace them.”
David nodded. “I must admit that Sean has not been able to be very helpful, although I think he’s made some efforts. I also should tell you that his superiors are suggesting to him that he may be wasting his time pursuing the manuscript. He called me about an hour ago to let me know that he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to continue on the case.”
Jeremy frowned. “So he’s wasting his time, is he? Is he also wasting his time investigating Morgenstern’s murder?”
“No,” David said. “But his superiors are questioning his assumption that the missing manuscript is linked to Morgenstern’s murder.”
“Are you kidding?” Jeremy cried. “That’s the one thing that’s clear about this whole mess. Somebody killed him to get the Beethoven manuscript. And it’s probably the same someone who attacked Melissa and who we chased through the streets of Philly.”
“The problem, as I see it,” David said, “is that we don’t even know that for sure. Is the person who stole the manuscript from Morgenstern definitely the same person who stole the first two pages of it at the coffee house?”
“Well, if not,” Jeremy said, “they’re going to have the same problem I was going to have in getting anyone to buy the manuscript. Without those first two pages, anyone is going to have a very tough time proving that this is a lost composition by Beethoven that no one has laid eyes on for almost three hundred years.”
“I agree with David,” Elizabeth said. “It’s not obvious to me that the two thefts are connected. Remember that David said he thought there was someone following you two the day you brought the manuscript to Morgenstern?”
“Yes!” David said eagerly. “That’s right. And that ‘someone’ bore an awfully strong resemblance to the guy that Jeremy and I just chased into that dark alleyway last night.”
“But wait a minute,” Elizabeth said. “If somebody followed you and Jeremy to Morgenstern’s, then they had to be aware that you dropped the manuscript off there and you no longer had it. And if you no longer had it, why in the world would that same guy show up at Jeremy’s apartment looking for it and knock Melissa unconscious in the process?”
“I have no idea,” Jeremy said, “unless the guy who slugged Melissa may have been a different guy then the one who followed us?”
“And who we subsequently followed into the alleyway,” David agreed.
“Yes,” Elizabeth said, “but that’s just the point. It would mean we were up against two different people.”
“It’s possible,” Jeremy said. “Melissa didn’t ever really get a look at the guy who hit her.”
“So it’s possible,” Elizabeth agreed, “but is it likely? I just don’t know.”
“What is likely at this point?” David asked, throwing up his hands. “Nothing about this makes sense.”
The four of them sat in silence for a few seconds.
“You know,” David said, smiling faintly, “I sometimes wonder what Beethoven would think if he knew that almost three hundred years later we’d be obsessing over the manuscript of a composition that he never even bothered to have performed.”
“I have no idea why anybody even cares about this thing,” Melissa said. “Beethoven himself obviously got bored with his own stupid symphony. He didn’t make any comments at all on the last part of the manuscript.”
“Well, regardless of what Beethoven would say,” David said, “I guess it’s still extremely important to us. And sometimes I just can’t believe we let it slip out of our hands. You were so excited the first day you told me about it, Jeremy.”
Jeremy nodded. “At least I managed to make a photocopy of the part of the manuscript I gave to Morgenstern. That copy has been sitting in a safety deposit box since the day I made it. I’m not really sure why I bothered, though. A photocopy of something like this is next to worthless. But anyway, I brought it today. Here it is if anyone wants to take a look,” Jeremy said tossing a thick folder of papers on the coffee table in front of him.
“You’re talking about what Beethoven would have thought about all this,” Elizabeth said. “That brings up another issue. These people who have been trying to get the manuscript at all costs…they must have enough specialized knowledge about music to know how valuable the manuscript could be.”
“Maybe, but…” began David
“”Right from the beginning,” Elizabeth continued, “we thought that the two pages stolen from the coffee shop might just have been tossed away because the thief would have figured that they were worthless. Or he might have tried to sell them to a pawn shop. But neither of those things happened.”
“We don’t know they didn’t happen,” David said. “We just know we weren’t able to locate the missing pages by following that logic.”
“Nevertheless, I think Elizabeth may be on to something,” Jeremy said. “It’s quite probable that the people who’ve been after the manuscript from the beginning are musically literate and fully aware that the thing may be worth millions.”
“But even if we knew that for certain, I’m not sure it would get us anywhere,” David objected. “What are we going to do? Bring the entire staff, student body and all the alumni from Leonard Conservatory down to the police station for questioning?”
“And of course,” Elizabeth added, “none of those people—or very few of them—even know that the manuscript actually exists.”
“But Wade and Danny do,” Jeremy said.
“Look,” said David. “You must have trusted them in the first place or you wouldn’t ever have told them about the manuscript.”
“It’s true,” Jeremy said. “I did trust them. But I’m beginning to wonder if I was a fool to do so.”
“I don’t think so,” David said. “And I’m sure that the police have checked out their alibies. At least they did for Morgenstern’s murder.”
“I guess so,” said Jeremy, “but then we’re back at square one. I’m a little sick of spinning our wheels, having our lives threatened, and still not having the first clue of what this is all about.”
“I’m with you there,” David said.
Minutes later, Elizabeth and David were walking slowly down the stairs of Jeremy’s apartment building.
“I’m not sure any of that was worth the effort,” David said. “It seems that we’re mostly just going around in circles.”
“I know,” Elizabeth said. “It’s very frustrating. Somehow I can’t help but think that some of our basic assumptions are wrong, but I don’t really know which assumptions they are.”
“Well, in the meantime, we can only hope that Sean can come up with some clue that will give the police a lead on Morgenstern’s murder. Because if that gets solved, I still think it’s likely that our manuscript quandary will be solved along with it.”
“I certainly hope so,” Elizabeth said. “But David, there’s something else I have to talk to you about. I know this is probably a bad time, with all the concerns you have about Jeremy and Melissa, but I just have to tell you about a phone call I got from my agent right before our get-together. He told me that he could line up some concerts for me—solo recitals at some small and medium-sized civic music series in the Midwest—for next year if I were interested. But there’s also a competition in Paris that I really want to try for next year and there’s just no time to do both. The problem is that these groups are anxious to get the bookings done now. My agent can’t wait for more than a day or two for my response.”
David smiled. “I think it’s great that
you have all of these opportunities.”
Elizabeth paused. “Yeah, I’m really excited about it. But as I said, I can’t do both; I can’t enter the Paris competition and play those smaller recitals as well.”
“That’s a shame but…”
“But you could,” Elizabeth interrupted. “You could play those recitals. At least some of them. These are not high-powered gigs, but you could make a little money and get back to playing. I think the main thing is to have something to aim for, and these recitals would give you some nice targets.”
David hesitated. “Elizabeth…that’s extremely kind of you, but I couldn’t even consider abandoning Jeremy at this point.”
“But David,” Elizabeth pleaded, “these concerts are months from now. Yes, you’d have to make a commitment now, but you wouldn’t have to play them for months. You’d have plenty of time to get ready. And there’s plenty of time for this problem with Jeremy to be worked out…for better or worse.”
“I don’t know, Elizabeth. I promise I’ll give it some serious thought. Just give me a little time. Right now I’ve got to teach a couple of lessons, but I’ll meet you at Mackinaw’s at 8:00, okay? We can talk about it then.”