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"Yes." She turned away,
"Good try, Grover," said Max. "My respect for you is mounting by the moment."
"Why don't you just shut up?" snapped Plum.
"Haven't finished my description of the Iron Box Es- cape," Max responded cheerfully. (Oh, for G.o.d's sake. Max, I thought.)
"The bolts I pushed out from me inside to have the nuts fastened to mem are not the original bolts, you see; the ones examined by me judges. (d.a.m.n you. Max!)
"These bolts-secreted on my person, of course-have nuts on the inside of me box as well.
"I remove these inside nuts, push out the bolts, emerge, replace me original bolts with me expeditious use of string-that's the tricky part-ef voila!"
Thanks a lot, Son, I thought. Another pile of years and effort down the tube.
While Max was talking. Plum had gone to check one of the built-in bookcases, running his fingers along the decora- tive moldings to see if anything occurred.
Occur it did.
As the Sheriff touched what appeared to be a scalloped
146 Richard Matfaewn
inlay on the molding, he (and I-and Ca.s.sandra, I imagine) heard a clicking sound.
The bookcase section hinged out by several inches.
"Ah "the Sheriff said.
C.
a.s.sandra hurried over as the Sheriff tried to pull the bookcase open. "Now we're getting somewhere," he said.
Has the search already ended? I wondered.
Plum hissed as he broke a nail. "What is this, anyway?"
he demanded.
"Nothing, Sheriff," said Max. He looked disturbed.
"Nothing, Max?" Ca.s.sandra goaded.
Seeing how the bookcase edge had sprung open several inches, she made a sound of vengeful satisfaction.
"Now we've got you," she said.
"I'm telling you. Sheriff, it's nothing," Max insisted.
"You hear?" Ca.s.sandra said. "He wouldn't say that if it was really nothing."
She looked at Plum.
"What were you doing?" she asked. "What did you touch?"
"This molding here," he answered, pointing.
Ca.s.sandra pressed her thumb along me molding designs.
I felt my heartbeat thumping. What was behind there?
148 Rtetart Matfcewn
When Ca.s.sandra touched the scalloped Inlay, she said ex- dtedly, "It's going in!"
She looked at Max accusingly -
'"Now we've got you, you son of a b.i.t.c.h," she said.
She held the scalloped inlay in and quietly, with well- oiled gears, the bookcase section started to revolve.
Ca.s.sandra and the Sheriff stepped back quickly, and I braced myself (as much as that was possible) for what I might see. Harry's corpse?
The bookcase section turned all the way around and stopped.
No Harry's corpse.
Books.
On the reverse side was another bookcase filled with them.
"What the h.e.l.l is this?" me Sheriff asked.
Max smiled cutely (that smile again), a small shrug hunching up his shoulders.
"I told you it was nothing," he said. "I wish I could tell you that I'd fooled you, but I can't. It's just a protected place where I keep my more valuable books on magic."
So that's where they are, I thought. I'd noticed they were gone, but had a.s.sumed they were upstairs in Max's bed- room.
"For Christ's sake," muttered me Sheriff. He bit off the shredded nail's edge and spat it out in disgust.
"Good moment though, you must admit," said Max. (It was, 1 thought.)
He looked at Ca.s.sandra disdainfully.
"Better luck next time," he said.
He slid off me desk and walked to the bookcase, pressing in me scalloped inlay.
"Wait a second," said Ca.s.sandra.