'Every playhouse on the planet will want to put it on,' I added, 'and think of the movie rights.'
'Exactly,' said Victor. 'He's sitting on not only the most fantastic literary discovery for three centuries but also a keg of purest gold. The question is, how did it languish in his library undiscovered all this time? Scholars have studied there since 1709. How on earth was it overlooked? Ideas, anyone?'
'Retrosnatch?' I suggested. 'If a rogue ChronoGuard operative decided to go back to 1613 and steal a copy he could have a tidy little nest egg on his hands.'
'SO-12 take retrosnatch very seriously and they assure me that it is always detected, sooner or later or both – and dealt with severely. But it's possible. Bowden, give SO-12 a call, will you?'
Bowden put out his hand to pick up the phone just as it started to ring.
'Hello … It's not, you say? Okay, thanks.'
He put the phone down.
'The ChronoGuard say not.'
'How much do you think it's worth?' I asked.
'Hundred million,' replied Victor, 'two hundred. Who knows? I'll call Volescamper and tell him to keep quiet about it. People would kill to even read it. No one else is to know about it, do you hear?'
We nodded our agreement.
'Good. Thursday, the Network takes internal affairs very seriously. SO-1 will want to speak to you here tomorrow at four about the Skyrail thing. They asked me to suspend you but I told them bollocks so just take some leave until tomorrow. Good work, the two of you. Remember, not a word to anyone!'
We thanked him and he left. Bowden stared at the wall for a moment before saying:
'The crossword clues bother me, though. If I wasn't of the opinion that coincidences are merely chance or an overused Dickensian plot device, I might conclude that an old enemy of yours wants to get even.'
'One with a sense of humour, obviously,' I told him sullenly.
'That rules out Goliath, I suppose,' mused Bowden. 'Who are you calling?'
'SO-5.'
I dug Agent Phodder's card out of my pocket and rang the number. He had told me to call him if 'an occurrence of unprecedented weird' took place, so I was doing precisely that.
'Hello?' said a brusque-sounding man after the telephone had rung for a long time.
'Thursday Next, SO-27,' I announced. 'I have some information for Agent Phodder.'
There was a long pause.
'Agent Phodder has been reassigned.'
'Agent Kannon, then.'
'Both Phodder and Kannon have been reassigned,' replied the man sharply. 'Freak accident laying linoleum. The fun
eral's on Friday.'
This was unexpected news. I couldn't think of anything appropriate to say, so mumbled:
'I'm sorry to hear that.'
'Quite,' said the brusque man, and put the phone down.
'What happened?' asked Bowden.
'Both dead,' I said quietly.