Dutch Blue Error Read Online Free PDF

his hand, and stuck his long nose into it. He snuffled noisily and sighed. Only then did he sip. I could see his cheeks working as he rolled the liquor around in his mouth. Perry solemnly imitated his father’s ritual, but I didn’t. I sipped deeply from my glass and let the good brandy slide hotly down my throat.
    “You, sir, are an unreconstructed peasant,” said Ollie good-naturedly. “Fine brandy is wasted on you. Remind me to serve you Old Hipboot next time you come.”
    “Hey,” I said. “Old Hipboot is good booze.”
    Ollie studied his glass for a moment. “Here’s how we play it,” he said, glancing briefly at Perry before settling his attention on me. “Tell me if this sounds okay. Our friend calls. I answer, tell him you’re to handle the transaction, and give him right over to you. You set up a meeting. You must meet with him face to face. At that meeting you will, first, verify that he has the stamp, and, second, arrange to have it authenticated. You will reassure him that I am quite serious about meeting his price. He may expect us to dicker. Don’t. Authenticate the stamp, then buy it. Okay?”
    “Sure. Sounds fine. How do we authenticate it, though?”
    “Fellow by the name of Albert Dopplinger. He’s an assistant curator at the Peabody Museum, specialist in paper and wood artifacts. Paintings and books, mostly. His lab has all the latest equipment. He knows all about inks, paints, the manufacture of paper, and so forth. He’s done some work for me personally. I’ve already talked to him. He says he’ll have no problem authenticating the stamp. He’s acknowledged among philatelists as one of the preeminent experts in the area of old stamps, though he isn’t a philatelist himself. He’s got no interest in collecting things. Just likes to examine them. Which suits me fine. The last person I want involved in this is some philatelic dealer or agent. This Dopplinger, I think, we can trust to remain discreet. We’ll pay him well. And he knows he can count on a tidy little sidelight moonlighting for me.”
    “That sounds easy enough,” I said. “What else?”
    “Well, there is one little problem,” said Ollie. He sipped his brandy. I waited for him to continue.
    “You sure you won’t play chess?” he said after a moment. “Most instructive game.”
    “C’mon, Ollie. What’s the problem?”
    “The problem is this. Dopplinger says that in order for him to authenticate the duplicate Dutch Blue Error he’ll need to have the original for comparison. You’ll have to bring my stamp with you. You appreciate what that means, don’t you?”
    I lifted my eyebrows. “It means,” I said, “that I’ll be carrying the equivalent of a million dollars in cash.”
    “Or close to it. Yes. Of course, the stamp without the papers isn’t worth that much, and those I’ll keep in my vault. Still, if that stamp gets into the wrong hands…”
    “It’ll cost you a fortune to get it back. I understand. That’s a heavy responsibility, Ollie.”
    “I pay you heavy fees. Are you licensed?”
    “Huh?”
    “Licensed. To carry.”
    Perry, who had remained standing, and who appeared not to be paying any attention to our discussion, suddenly blurted, “Oh, Jesus Christ!”
    I glanced at Perry, then at Ollie. “Oh. You mean a gun. Sure. But do you think…?”
    “Absolutely. You carry my stamp, you carry a gun. And make sure our friend knows you have it.”
    Perry rolled his eyes. I shrugged, then nodded. We sat back to wait for the phone to ring. Perry pretended to study the rows of books. I fired up a Winston. Ollie cradled his nearly empty brandy glass in both of his hands on his stomach as he slouched in his big chair. His eyes were closed. He looked very old. His skin had taken on that transparent, waxy cast of the terminally ill. Ollie Weston, with his eyes closed and his hands folded across his stomach, looked like a corpse.
    “Get his name,” Ollie said suddenly, his eyes still