The Book of the Lion Read Online Free PDF

circumstances. You have backers, and the work would be under their control, not yours. The important thing is that the world won’t lose it. A scholar of medieval literature should be better at taking the long view.”
    Hallkyn said, “I’ve spent a lifetime studying these works because I love them and have a great deal of curiosity about them, even the ones I know well. I want to read this one.”
    â€œGood answer,” said the man. “I’ll call on Wednesday to tell you where to bring the Cadillac.”
    â€œMe? I wasn’t planning—”
    â€œThen all is lost. The driver has to be someone who knows what is at stake—you.”
    â€œAll right,” Hallkyn said.
    Hallkyn tensed, waiting for more patronizing patter, but all he heard was absence. The man had said all he wanted to.
    When Hallkyn called Spanner, he was both afraid to tell him and afraid not to. He repeated, as well as he could, everything that the man had said.
    Spanner was silent for a moment. “All right, Dominic. You’ve done as well as anyone could. It was always possible that this man would turn out to be a lunatic. You still believe that he has the real manuscript?”
    â€œI do,” said Hallkyn. “The work that’s summarized in his email is exactly the work that Chaucer would have done just at that time of his life. The style of writing in the passages I could read is right. Even the physical manuscript is right for that period of his life—thin vellum written in a fine court hand. Chaucer was already rich and well-known. It all fits too well to be a fake.”
    â€œThen let me take over from here and make a few arrangements. You fly to Boston. Stay at the Lenox, so I’ll know where to find you.”
    â€œBut what are you planning to do?”
    â€œFor one thing, get a Cadillac Escalade to Boston with five million dollars in cash inside it. Just get settled in Boston, wait for his next call, and do what he says. Whatever happens, we’re going to try.”
    â€œBut what are you thinking?”
    Spanner sighed. “I’m thinking that we’ve reached the point where we can use some professional help. I know some people who will be useful in this situation.” Spanner seemed distracted. “Excuse me for a second.” In a moment he was back. “Okay. We’ve got a flight for you and a reservation at the Lenox. Be at the airport tomorrow morning and take the 11:15 flight to Boston.”
    â€œBut are you sure that’s—”
    â€œYes, I am,” he said. “Extorting money in exchange for not destroying a missing piece of the world’s cultural history is undoubtedly illegal. Destroying it would be worse. In any case, we have to fight this and preserve it. Get packed.”
    The next evening, Hallkyn was in his room at the Lenox Hotel when his cell phone rang. He looked at it as though it contained a poisonous snake, but he reached for it anyway. “I know what you thought,” said Spanner. “But it’s only me. I’m downstairs in the lobby. Come down.”
    Hallkyn put on his sport coat and hurried to the elevator. When the shining brass door opened he charged out, turned right past the front desk, and spotted Spanner sitting in an easy chair in the lobby, alone.
    He realized that he had almost forgotten the most distinctive part of Spanner’s appearance—his ease. His elbows rested on the chair’s overstuffed arms, and his legs were extended, crossed at the ankle, and his head rested against the chair’s back.
    When he saw Hallkyn he jumped up and shook his hand. “Dom!” he said. “So glad you could make it.”
    And then there was an extraordinary thing. He said, “Let me introduce you.” He turned his head and two men on a nearby couch stood. “This is Mr. Hanlon, Mr. Stokes.” He turned his head the other way. “Mr. Garner. Miss Turner, and Miss