CHAPTER SIXIn the morning Lindsey went to see Jack Glessner.
All the way to Diamond Street he seethed over his encounter with Francis—or Frances.
Lindsey felt like dropping the whole thing—dropping ben Zinowicz from the case, that is, not dropping the case. He didn’t need the professor. He could hire some other expert to work on the comics.
Who was he supposed to be, James Bond?
But maybe Lindsey was getting into the role. Nathan ben Zinowicz had been hard to get along with and his flunky Francis was playing spy games. If ben Zinowicz had stolen the comics, the smartest thing for him to do would be to play it absolutely straight with International Surety, evaluate Patterson’s list, collect his consulting fee and then butt out.
Ben Zinowicz only drew attention to himself by acting the
