The Whenabouts of Burr Read Online Free PDF Page B

don’t know that it’s impossible. Whose idea?”
    â€œThe President’s twelve-year-old daughter, Emily.”
    â€œWell, at least we’ll soon know if it’s true.”
    â€œHow’s that?”
    â€œWe merely await the cataclysm. Meanwhile, as we wait, anything else?”
    â€œNothing as useful as that batch.”
    â€œWhat about your immediate superior, Dr. Dutton?”
    â€œHe tends to think it’s the Republicans, except that he allows for the possibility that it’s Democrats out to get him. He also mentioned the Vice President.”
    â€œThe Vice President. The Vice…”
    â€œHe pointed out that Aaron Burr was once Vice President. You must understand that Dr. Dunstan Dutton is a firm believer in the Great Cypher. He believes that no one can write a document without encrypting his name, address, political philosophy, and waist measurements into the text. He has already proven by cryptology that King Lear was written by Isaac Asimov and the Pentateuch was written by Avram Davidson. Dr. Dutton believes in simultaneous creation. Don’t ask me, because I don’t know.”
    â€œNate, I fear we’ll have to leave the administration out of our planning. I don’t, somehow, feel that they’ll be of any great assistance.
    Swift put down his coffee cup and squared his shoulders. “Then it’s just you and I,” he said. “We two against the Unknown Enemy!”
    Ves Romero stared at him. “Nate,” he said, “sometimes you frighten me.”
    â€œAh, Ves,” Nate said, staring at the wall sadly. “I am the last of the Romantics, and no one understands me any more. Like the dinosaurs, I have outlived my time. I’m a relic of a dead and distant past.”
    â€œI haven’t seen many dinosaurs around recently,” Ves said. “And besides, you’re only half my age. Maybe a few years more. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Also, I have no idea what you think you’re talking about What are you talking about?”
    â€œNo matter,” Nate said. “No matter. Ah, Cyrano, I salute you!” He drew an imaginary sword and pressed it against his nose. Quietly, barely audibly, he began to hum the Marseillaise .
    Ves pulled a pad of paper toward himself and took a felt tip pen from his shirt pocket. “Let us,” he suggested, tapping the pen on the palm of his hand, “analyze the imponderables. Let us list the impossibilities, and see if we can get a clear idea of just what it is that we have to solve.”
    â€œVery well,” Nate said, pouring himself another cup of Mrs. Montefugoni’s special coffee, “list away. I love lists.”
    â€œFirst of all,” Ves began, “there’s the theft and replacement. Clearly impossible, as it was done without breaking the seals or violating the helium atmosphere.”
    â€œA good beginning,” Nate said.
    â€œThen there’s the document itself—the new document, that is. A forgery so good that the experts can’t tell, except for the self-evident fact that it has to be a forgery.”
    â€œWhy?” Swift asked.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWhy? Why does it have to be a forgery? What if it is a real document? Suppose there were two copies, and Aaron Burr signed the first. Then, for some reason, Alexander Hamilton signed the second and the first disappeared.”
    â€œShould be able to check that,” Ves said. “Let’s see…” He went over to his wall of books and browsed amid the history section, pulling out and leafing through a variety of books before settling on three to use. He went back and forth among them, making rapid notes. “Yup,” he said finally. “No doubt.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œDuring the Constitutional Convention, which took place in Philadelphia in May and June of 1787, Aaron Burr was a practicing attorney in New York City: Manhattan,