“Professor Margulies is busy. Who would like to see him?”

“We’re the police, and we received a call—”

“Oh, yes. I called you. Go on in.” Proud, self-satisfied, he opened the entrance for the man with the tie and the five people who were with him. “You’ve come fast. I only called ten minutes ago. Why aren’t you in uniform?”

“We’re not uniformed police,” the fattest one answered, showing his badge with a quick gesture, but sufficient to satisfy the gum-chewing watchman. “We know that two individuals we’re seeking have been here, two suspects.”

“That’s why I called,” said the watchman. “I mean, as for the man, I don’t know if he’s a criminal—it’s not the first time he’s been here. But the woman, definitely. I recognized her the minute I saw her, from the telly news on the local station. She’s the Portuguese woman who killed that guy.”

“When you called, you said they were looking for a Professor Margulies, right?”

“That’s right. One of the main conservators of the museum.”

“Do you know why they were looking for him?” It was the fat one asking all the questions.

“I don’t have any idea.”

“Fine. Can you take us to his office?”

“But of course. Follow me.”

They went ahead, the six moving in single file, with the guard in front, the fat man behind him, and then the rest. They walked until they got to the spot where they would find Joseph Margulies, engrossed in his cryptographic pursuits. The guard’s proud smile expressed his satisfaction. To have called the authorities, at the number listed at the bottom of his television monitor, was a good deed for him.

“The Metropolitan Police requests anyone who sees the person shown in the photo to call 0202 . . .” They were looking for a young female reporter as witness to a shooting. The woman had such an angelic face that the image had stayed with him. He couldn’t have expected to actually see her a short time later. It totally astonished him. Nevertheless, he didn’t rush things. At first he even feared for Dr. Margulies’s safety. So he decided to keep an eye on them. A short while later he saw them leave. Damn it, he scolded himself. Missed my chance. Afterward he went to see the director, to find out what they were up to. The professor had a serious expression, amid his books, absorbed in his thoughts.

“Is everything all right, Professor Margulies?”

“Fine, Dobins.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No, you can return to your station. I’m just looking at some things for a friend,” Margulies answered, his eyes still on the books and a sheet of paper. “They’ll be returning in a little while, so you can let them back in.”

Music to his ears. The suspect was coming back. It was his chance. He was going to have his fifteen minutes of fame. He already pictured himself being interviewed by all the television networks. Maybe his superiors would reward him with a raise and all.

That was how he made the phone call to the Metropolitan Police that was intercepted by the men looking for Sarah.

Eagerly attending to his duties, the watchman stopped in front of the door to the room where they could meet Joseph Margulies.

“His office is right in here.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the fat man pointed his gun with a silencer at the watchman and shot twice.

“Take him away,” he ordered. Then he opened the door and entered the room. “Professor Margulies? I’m Geoffrey Barnes.”