“Are you sure this is the place?”
I pointed to Zah’s backwards signature.
Nobody was around, so we jumped the fence and descended the litter-strewn stairs.
The door cracked open.
“We’re tourists looking for the Hope Diamond.”
“The Smithsonian is in Washington.”
“But Della wore the diamond.”
“In the rough… neighborhood.”
“Mr. Rodger’s sent us.”
Yes, the code was silly, but both sides needed to be careful. A slip would be death.
The hall was cluttered like the stairs, but a door opened to a bright room.
I stood and stared at all of the real books.
word count = 100