flanked by tw o camera-crazed parents, bravely tried to
exhibi t enough pleasure to be worthy of the attention thro wn her way. The restaurant, like everywhere else in the theme park, burst into song. At the song 's end, the patrons clapped, and Ted said to Norm, 'This place is driving me apeshit. Norm, get to the poin t. Wade says you and he have some kind of caper I can help with.'
Norm cocked an eyebro w, stole a quick glance at Wade and said, 'A caper! I haven' t heard that word since the last time I saw Faye Dunaway in a mink stole driving a pink Corvette into Mexico.' He looked squarely at Wade: 'Tell me abou t this caper, Wade.'
What an asshole. 'You made your poin t, Norm. Tell my dad abou t this courier gig, and the sooner we'll be out of here.'
Norm said, 'Very well. Mr. Drummond , allo w me to show you and your sons the artifact in question.' From his attache case he removed a clear, zippable sandwich bag. Inside it was a white greeting card envelope that was in turn pro tected between tw o screwed-together sheets of clear plastic. He sighed and handed it over to Ted, whose eyes immediately goggl ed.
'Holy shit. Is this what I think it is?' 'Yes, Ted, it is.'
Bryan said, 'Lemme see it,' and tried to grab it, but Ted swatted him on the knuckles with a spoon. 'Ow! That hur t. Lemme see.'
'Show some respect, you li tt le twerp.'
Bryan looked at the envelope's fron t. It read: Mummy. 'Big deal. What is it — a map to some stolen Egyptian mummy or something?'
'Oh, Jesus.' Ted was stilled with awe. Wade was in a form of shock, too.
'What's going on here?' asked Bryan. 'It 's just a Hallmark envelope with a card in it or something. Just a—' He froze. 'It 's from the funeral. It 's from the coff in . . . her coff in.'
Norm took the letter from Ted and placed it in his attache case. 'Yes, Bryan, it is.' 'Lemme see it again.'
'No.'
'That í's the real letter, isn' t it?'
'I already told you, Bryan, yes, it really is. People don ' t spend ten million dollars on fake letters.'
The Drummond men sat speechless as young Cicely across the restaurant sliced her bir thday cake. Ano ther song began, and Wade entered a trance. I shouldn ' t be tired, but I am, and I have to slog through the rest of the day. And what the hell is Norm doing with a copy of that English Willi am-the-Prince guy's letter
from his mother's coff in? And why does Bryan have to be such a goof? And please, God, let Dad make his money and then let him run far, far away. The music in this place — it 's so loud and so blank. And my
glands are so raw—
'Wade?' Bryan was shaking Wade by the should er. 'You OK?' 'I didn ' t sleep last nigh t.'
Ted spoke to Norm. 'How do you kno w the letter's real?' 'Oh, please.'
'Has it been opened?' 'No.'
'Why not X-ray it?'
'We do not X-ray it because the envelope is part of the royal family's custom stationery, made of bleached birch cellulo se bonded on the inside with a titanium layer that keeps out both X rays and ESP. The letter
inside migh t as well be encased in lead.'
'What sort of person would buy a letter like that?' Wade asked.
'Wade, you of all people ough t to kno w that people will pay just abou t anything for just abou t anything.' 'What's that supposed to mean?'
'Tetchy, tetchy. The buyer could maybe be a rich class-obsessed Saudi who wants a social li ft . The buyer
could represent a faction hostile to England who wants to hold the letter ransom in return for a poli tical favor. The buyer could be the heir to a low-end retail outlet chain who once fell in love with an
Englishwoman. Who kno ws? Maybe it 's the Franklin Mint, and they want to own it so they can make licensed copies.'
'It 's that Kraut in Lyford Cay,' Wade said. 'Isn' t it? Florian.'
'You do have ESP, today, Wade. Maybe your powers can penetrate the envelope.' 'What's Lyford Cay?' Bryan asked.
'It 's the Richie Rich part of the Bahamas,' Wade said.
Bryan wasn' t interested in this. He asked Norm, 'Can' t you steam
exhibi t enough pleasure to be worthy of the attention thro wn her way. The restaurant, like everywhere else in the theme park, burst into song. At the song 's end, the patrons clapped, and Ted said to Norm, 'This place is driving me apeshit. Norm, get to the poin t. Wade says you and he have some kind of caper I can help with.'
Norm cocked an eyebro w, stole a quick glance at Wade and said, 'A caper! I haven' t heard that word since the last time I saw Faye Dunaway in a mink stole driving a pink Corvette into Mexico.' He looked squarely at Wade: 'Tell me abou t this caper, Wade.'
What an asshole. 'You made your poin t, Norm. Tell my dad abou t this courier gig, and the sooner we'll be out of here.'
Norm said, 'Very well. Mr. Drummond , allo w me to show you and your sons the artifact in question.' From his attache case he removed a clear, zippable sandwich bag. Inside it was a white greeting card envelope that was in turn pro tected between tw o screwed-together sheets of clear plastic. He sighed and handed it over to Ted, whose eyes immediately goggl ed.
'Holy shit. Is this what I think it is?' 'Yes, Ted, it is.'
Bryan said, 'Lemme see it,' and tried to grab it, but Ted swatted him on the knuckles with a spoon. 'Ow! That hur t. Lemme see.'
'Show some respect, you li tt le twerp.'
Bryan looked at the envelope's fron t. It read: Mummy. 'Big deal. What is it — a map to some stolen Egyptian mummy or something?'
'Oh, Jesus.' Ted was stilled with awe. Wade was in a form of shock, too.
'What's going on here?' asked Bryan. 'It 's just a Hallmark envelope with a card in it or something. Just a—' He froze. 'It 's from the funeral. It 's from the coff in . . . her coff in.'
Norm took the letter from Ted and placed it in his attache case. 'Yes, Bryan, it is.' 'Lemme see it again.'
'No.'
'That í's the real letter, isn' t it?'
'I already told you, Bryan, yes, it really is. People don ' t spend ten million dollars on fake letters.'
The Drummond men sat speechless as young Cicely across the restaurant sliced her bir thday cake. Ano ther song began, and Wade entered a trance. I shouldn ' t be tired, but I am, and I have to slog through the rest of the day. And what the hell is Norm doing with a copy of that English Willi am-the-Prince guy's letter
from his mother's coff in? And why does Bryan have to be such a goof? And please, God, let Dad make his money and then let him run far, far away. The music in this place — it 's so loud and so blank. And my
glands are so raw—
'Wade?' Bryan was shaking Wade by the should er. 'You OK?' 'I didn ' t sleep last nigh t.'
Ted spoke to Norm. 'How do you kno w the letter's real?' 'Oh, please.'
'Has it been opened?' 'No.'
'Why not X-ray it?'
'We do not X-ray it because the envelope is part of the royal family's custom stationery, made of bleached birch cellulo se bonded on the inside with a titanium layer that keeps out both X rays and ESP. The letter
inside migh t as well be encased in lead.'
'What sort of person would buy a letter like that?' Wade asked.
'Wade, you of all people ough t to kno w that people will pay just abou t anything for just abou t anything.' 'What's that supposed to mean?'
'Tetchy, tetchy. The buyer could maybe be a rich class-obsessed Saudi who wants a social li ft . The buyer
could represent a faction hostile to England who wants to hold the letter ransom in return for a poli tical favor. The buyer could be the heir to a low-end retail outlet chain who once fell in love with an
Englishwoman. Who kno ws? Maybe it 's the Franklin Mint, and they want to own it so they can make licensed copies.'
'It 's that Kraut in Lyford Cay,' Wade said. 'Isn' t it? Florian.'
'You do have ESP, today, Wade. Maybe your powers can penetrate the envelope.' 'What's Lyford Cay?' Bryan asked.
'It 's the Richie Rich part of the Bahamas,' Wade said.
Bryan wasn' t interested in this. He asked Norm, 'Can' t you steam
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