Chapter Eighteen

  “So were you injured, Jeremy?” asked Sean, sitting across from Jeremy and David in his office.

  “The first barrel just knocked me off my feet, “Jeremy replied, “and the other one bumped me on the head. I’m fine.”

  “You really shouldn’t have taken a chance like that, either of you,” Sean said earnestly as his eyes went from Jeremy’s face to David’s. “You have to leave things like that to the police.”

  “I knew you wouldn’t be happy about it, Sean,” said Jeremy. “I didn’t even want to tell you about last night but David insisted. But I have a permit for my gun and, if I have to, I’m going to use it to defend myself and to defend Melissa. She’s in danger. I’m sure of it. Now, if you’d be willing to provide her with police protection?”

  “You know I can’t do that in the absence of any specific threat,” Sean said. “But I do agree that you’d better keep her within your sight for a while. Maybe the intruder, if that’s who he was, now figures that Melissa doesn’t have the Beethoven manuscript.”

  “Why should he? This may be a different guy than the one who knocked her out before,” said Jeremy. “And by the way, why did you say ‘if’ he was an intruder? Who the hell do think the guy was anyway? He wasn’t going door to door selling magazine subscriptions. Those people don’t run down the alley when they see someone approaching the apartment.”

  “Okay, okay. So it was probably someone with bad intentions. And he may still be interested in Melissa. All the more reason for you to keep your eye on her.”

  “I certainly will, Sean.” Jeremy replied. “But as you know, Melissa’s a free spirit. And despite the fact that she was knocked on the head by an intruder last week, she still refuses to believe she’s in serious danger. She won’t hold still, Sean. She’s a wanderer by nature.”

  “Well, let’s hope that part of her nature doesn’t get her into serious trouble. But right now, gentlemen, I have to get going. I’ve got to have a meeting with the chief of detectives in my district now and, since I don’t really have a clue of what any of this means, I’ve got a feeling it’s not going to go too well.”

  Inspector Simmons gestured for Sean to take a seat across from him. “Sit down, Detective McGill. I’m told you’re the one who can fill me in on the Morgenstern murder.”

  “I’ll do what I can, sir,” Sean said.

  “From what I understand, you were on a case related to this even before the murder took place. Is that right?”

  “It’s a little difficult to know what is related to what at this point, sir. I began by investigating a stolen historical manuscript, or at least a portion of one.”

  “A manuscript?”

  “Yes, actually part of a score by Beethoven. It may be a new, undiscovered work and may be very valuable.”

  Simmons tilted his head. “It may be very valuable? I’m not sure I follow. Either something is valuable or it isn’t.”

  “Well, that’s one of the unknowns at this point, sir. The remainder of the manuscript was valued by Morgenstern as possibly worth millions.”

  “Really?” Simmons said, smiling faintly. “That’s something I wouldn’t know about.”

  “No, sir,” Sean replied.

  “But it’s my understanding that the person who originally reported the theft of this manuscript—or part of it anyway—was a personal friend?”

  “Yes, sir. His name is Jeremy West. We were undergrads together, although I didn’t know him well. I knew his friend, David Currants, better.”

  Inspector Simmons nodded thoughtfully. “That’s right. You went to that music conservatory didn’t you? Leonard Conservatory?”

  “Yes, sir. Before I graduated from the Police Academy.”

  “I see. So these are friends of yours, and you agreed to help them look for their missing manuscript?”

  “Yes sir. The first two pages of the manuscript were stolen from Jeremy West at a coffee house not that far from the police station. Anyway, I asked a couple of the uniformed officers who patrol that beat to keep an eye out for it.”

  “But no luck, I assume?”

  “No sir. It’s been a little over a week and there’s no sign of the manuscript.”

  “Okay. What transpired next?”

  “The lady friend of Mr. West, whose name is Melissa Hiller, was attacked in Jeremy’s apartment a couple of nights later. She was apparently expecting a pizza delivery guy and instead opened the door to a man who knocked her unconscious.”

  “Strong-arm robbery?” asked the inspector.

  “That’s what we all assumed, but in fact nothing was actually removed from the apartment as best we could determine. The guy seemed to be after something, but apparently never found it.”

  “Really? What do you assume that it was all about then?”

  “I don’t know, sir. Jeremy and his friend David have suggested that the intruder was looking for the manuscript—or what was left of it—but that hasn’t been proven.”

  “So how does Morgenstern fit it?”

  “He’s apparently a specialist who deals with this kind of rare manuscript.”

  “The Beethoven score?”

  “Yes. So Mr. West brought the manuscript to him to be tested and ultimately evaluated. Mr. Morgenstern emailed him a few days later indicating that the tests showed that the manuscript probably was authentic and could be worth a lot of money. They were going to set up a meeting to discuss it but that never happened because, that same evening, Morgenstern was murdered in his office.”

  “Yes,” Simmons nodded his head eagerly. “And that’s the part I’m most interested in. I’m sure the manuscript is important to Mr. West and his friend, but what is really of concern to us is Mr. Morgenstern’s murder.”

  “Yes sir, I understand. But it’s quite possible that the two are related.”

  “That Morgenstern having possession of the manuscript is somehow related to his death? That seems far-fetched to me. I’m sure he deals with many important documents. Do you have any evidence at all that his possession of this particular document led to his murder? Do you even have a scenario that makes any sense of this connection?”

  “Nothing very specific at this time, sir.”

  “Here’s my problem, Detective McGill,” said Simmons. “I don’t think this alleged link with some Beethoven manuscript is getting us anywhere. I’m not sure it’s moving the investigation forward.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “And there’s one more thing I’m a little concerned about. You’re a young man, McGill. You haven’t been a detective very long. I’m a little bit worried that you’re letting your friendship with the involved parties cloud your judgment. I have no evidence of that, of course, but it’s often better to turn a case over to another detective if you find you’re personally involved with any of the participants.”

  “I understand sir, but…”

  “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to let you pursue your present line of inquiry for exactly two more days. At that point I want a full report of everything that’s transpired. And if I’m not completely satisfied, I may have to switch the case to another detective. Is that clear, young man?”

  “Perfectly sir.”