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employed street urchins, special knowledge, instinct, logic, legwork, disguise, burglary, subterfuge, process of elimination, science, dogs, advertising, analogy to similar cases and - oh, yes - prodigious amounts of tobacco.”
    He pulled out a cigar. “Personally, I intend to rely heavily upon the latter.”
    â€œYou intend?” With dismay I heard my own voice came out as an incredulous screech.
    â€œOf course, Jefferson. It can hardly have escaped you that I intend to solve this case. I will, of course, use Damon Devlin’s techniques as well as those of Sherlock Holmes.”
    He snapped his fingers, creating a flame he used to light his cigar seemingly right off his fingertips. It was just the sort of stunt his damned magician-sleuth was always pulling in Mac’s books. How long, I wondered, had he waited for just the right moment to do that?
    â€œAre you serious?” Kane asked before I could lodge a protest that this was a non-smoking public building (not that he really intended to smoke - he was just showing off).
    â€œWhy should I be otherwise?” Mac asked. “If I can create fictional mysteries in such abundance, surely I can solve a real one. You well know that mysteries, whether physical or metaphysical, are my métier, my forte, my meat and-”
    â€œYeah, yeah,” I agreed, shutting off the Roget’s Thesaurus monologue. “But I still say my Max Cutter could beat the pants off Sherlock Holmes.”
    â€œWe shall see,” Mac said, eyeing his Sherlock Holmes watch. “Not at the moment, however. The time has come to begin the colloquium.”
    He moved like a cruise liner toward the front of the room while I seated myself on a couch near the rear, with Kane next to me. Kane pointed toward Chalmers, who was taking a chair in the front row, the radiant Renata at his side.
    â€œIf this were my book, he’d be my man,” Kane confided in a low voice.
    â€œYou mean the old insurance scam?” I said. “That wouldn’t work - he’s already signed over the whole collection to St. Benignus. You can’t insure something you don’t own anymore.”
    â€œThat’s not what I had in mind, Cody. Look, Chalmers picked up a sweet tax deduction by donating all that stuff to your college. But suppose he realized afterward there were a few precious items he just couldn’t live without. He could have stolen them back to gloat over in private. Best of all possible worlds for him - tax deduction and he still keeps the books. That’s how Red Maddox would figure it, anyway.”
    This wasn’t a Red Maddox mystery story by a long shot.
    But that didn’t mean Red’s creator wasn’t on to something.

Chapter Seven - “We Have to Talk”
    I stared at Chalmers for a while, musing over Kane’s idea. Then my eyes slid over and I was looking at his wife. It was hard not to. She was dressed in a gray pinstriped double-breasted suit, pants included, and a white blouse. The outfit could have been stolen from Al Capone. I don’t know whether it was out of style or so old it was new again, but she certainly filled it out nicely. Her black hair was gathered behind her head in a simple red ribbon.
    â€œI see Renata’s charms aren’t lost on you,” came a feminine whisper in my ear.
    I gave a guilty start and turned around to see my sister, Kate, sitting in a chair next to the couch I occupied. Just like her to sneak up on me like that.
    â€œI was looking at her leather handbag,” I lied. “Look at how big that baby is. I’ve seen suitcases smaller.”
    â€œR-i-g-h-t. That lady is strong medicine. Better watch yourself, T.J.”
    â€œI’d rather watch her.”
    Actually, I’m old enough to have figured out a long time ago that it’s not a good idea to covet thy neighbor’s wife - or anybody else’s. I’d seen too many people lose too much that way. I was a