Chapter Five
David trudged down the sidewalk, trying to avoid a bevy of fellow pedestrians, all of whom had their heads down against the cold rain that was soaking them.
He felt that this night would probably be a waste of time. He’d heard nothing from Jeremy about the missing manuscript for a week. Now, all of a sudden, he was supposed to show up for a meeting with Jeremy and his other friends. Were they going to have anything useful to say? He doubted it.
At least he’d finally have a chance to meet the famous Melissa. He wondered how that would go. David had a vague sense that Jeremy’s girlfriends in his undergrad days tended to be a little off the wall. But usually wealthy. Jeremy always seemed to be attracted to the daughters of wealthy magnates. But then again, Jeremy always liked to put on a good show. And good shows required impressive looking props. Was Melissa also from a wealthy family? Somehow he didn’t think so. But he was soon to find out.
David stopped in from of a 1920s brownstone that looked more black than brown. Was this it? He squinted at the house numbers through the rain. Yes, even though one of the numbers seemed to be missing, he was pretty sure this was the place.
A minute later, David stood in front of the first apartment on the third floor. Jeremy had described it well; it seemed like a horrible little place.
After just two light knocks, the door sprung open, revealing Jeremy, smiling from ear to ear.
“You’ve come!” he said. “And just in time.”
“I’m not late, am I?” asked David, slipping out of his jacket quickly.
“No, of course not,” said Jeremy. “But Melissa is already here and so is Wade. I expect Danny any minute.”
David entered and quickly exchanged greetings with Wade. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Melissa enter the room from the kitchen. He turned to greet her, the warmest smile he could manage on his face.
“And you must be David,” she said. “Nice you could make it.”
David smiled and nodded but said nothing. He was taken somewhat aback by her look—Goth-like, all in black with shiny black hair past her shoulders and fire-engine red lipstick. Liberally equipped with tats.
“Yes, I…of course…” he stuttered.
Melissa looked bored. “All of Jeremy’s friends react that way,” she said to no one in particular.
“I’m sorry,” said David. “I don’t know what ‘that way’ means, but I’m very glad to meet you. I’ve heard so much…”
“Actually, Melissa, he hasn’t,” interrupted Jeremy, gesturing for his guests to take a seat. “I’ve told him almost nothing about you. I thought it would be better to leave you as a ‘woman of mystery.’”
Wade came to the rescue. “Now Melissa, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Are you into music too?”
“Into music? You’re kidding, Wade,” Jeremy interjected quickly. “I’m sure she plays more gigs than you do. Or at least she used to.”
“Really?” Wade responded brightly. “And who do you perform with?”
“A Punk band,” she answered drolly. “The ‘Deadhearts.’ I was the lead singer with them for three years.”
“That’s terrific!” said Wade. “Where did you play”?
“Nowhere you’ve ever been,” Melissa replied.
“Well, I think it’s nice that we have a diversity of musical tastes represented here,” David said sympathetically. “Graduates of Leonard Conservatory can be a bit limited in that regard.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Jeremy. “There’s nothing limited about my tastes. I’ve been into punk for years. It’s very liberating.” Melissa had taken a seat beside Jeremy, and he quickly put his arm around her. She edged away slightly.
“Really?” said Wade, a sarcastic smile creeping across his face. “I didn’t know there was anything you needed liberating from.”
“He’s not liberated, he’s unrepressed,” Melissa said, pulling her short skirt down over her knees. “There’s a difference, you know.”
“Yes, I’m sure there is,” David said.
“Tell me, Melissa,” Wade said, “what do you think of Jeremy’s famous manuscript?”
“Not exactly my style of music,” she said wearily. “I haven’t taken the time to look at it. Probably won’t.”
The pause that followed was mercifully broken by a rapid and powerful knock on the door. The three men jumped up quickly to get the door but Jeremy managed to get there first. “Look, it’s Danny!” he said cheerfully, swinging the door open as far as it would go.
Within a couple of minutes, introductions had all been made and the five of them got down to the business at hand.
“I wish there was something we could tell you that would help clear this up,” Danny said, “but as I’ve mentioned before, I only asked a few vague questions of my former boss at the music store. I didn’t mention your name. I only mentioned that I knew about a Beethoven manuscript and wondered what it was worth.”
“And I didn’t say a thing about it to anybody,” interjected Wade. “I honestly don’t think that the manuscript was stolen on purpose…I mean, some thief just grabbed it without knowing what it was.”
“And probably ditched it five minutes later when they came to the conclusion that the contents of the knapsack were worthless,” Danny added.
Jeremy looked dejected. “I suppose you’re right,” he said glumly. “But the ‘random thief’ idea isn’t getting me anywhere. I’ve checked all the likely places a thief could have ditched the knapsack and… nothing. I’ve checked a slew of pawnshops…everything on this side of town…and nothing.”
“Used bookstores?” offered Wade.
“I’ve tried a few, but I don’t really think a thief would think like that.”
“I’ve got a friend on the Philly police force,” David said. “He’s actually a detective. He told me he’d keep his eyes open just in case. But so far…no luck.”
“It’s just bad Karma anyway,” Melissa said quietly. “That music…that composition or whatever…was meant to be lost. It was meant to stay hidden in that little shop forever. Nobody is supposed to ever hear it.”
“I don’t know about bad Karma,” Jeremy said sadly, “but it sure as hell is bad luck. I had my hands on a fortune there. And I still have my hands on part of a fortune, but if I can’t locate the missing two pages—especially the one with the title on it—my treasure’s going to be a lot less valuable.”
“Sorry we can’t help,” Wade said, “but to tell you the truth, I’ve got to get going. I’ll certainly let you know if I hear anything.”
“Me too,” said Danny. “I hate to sit and run, but there’s really nothing I can do here to help. My old boss did mention the owner of an old Antiquarian collector’s store on the west side who might be able to put a value on what you’ve still got. He might even be able to send the manuscript off to have its authenticity established. I’ve forgotten the guy’s name for the moment but I’ll send you a text when I think of it. But that’s all I can really do.”
“Of course,” Jeremy said. “I guess it was stupid of me to try to get everybody together for this. But I would appreciate getting the name of the expert.”
“No problem, man,” said Danny. “I’ll text you. But really, I’ve got to shove off.”
The two said their goodbyes quickly and walked swiftly down the stairs and out into the brisk night air.
“Lousy night,” said Wade, jamming his hands into his coat pockets.
“Yeah, it is,” replied Danny. “You know, I don’t have a clue why he asked us to come over tonight. I mean, what did he really expect us to do?”
“I have no idea. But it looks like Jeremy just stumbled upon a multi-million dollar manuscript. I didn't believe it at first, but I guess it must be true.”
“Yeah, but he seems to have let an important part of it slip out of his hand.”
“True, but he’s probably holding on to enough of it that it might be worth something. I'd trade places with him any day."
“Yeah,” said Danny, pulling his collar up around his neck. “He's luckier that he deserves to be."