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through the other drawers to see if they had been misplaced. They hadn't. They were missing, the only ones that were, apparently. |
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He proceeded down Center Street to the offices of the Chronicle, only to be told that their holdings did not go back beyond three years, that the library was the only place with past copies on micro. He asked about Sally Forand and the secretary managed to find an old address and telephone number. She picked up her phone and called someone, and a few moments later a tall thin man in his forties came out from the back room. He had wire-rimmed glasses and thinning hair, and introduced himself as Dennis Waite. |
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When Calvin told him his name, Waite's eyes lit up. "Any relation to Terry Hazzard?" |
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"She's submitted some strong op-ed pieces to us. She's a good writer." |
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"Thank you. I'll pass that on to her." |
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He led Calvin into a back office where they could be private. "Donna said you asked about Sally Forand?" |
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"Yes, I've been trying to track down some articles by her." |
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He studied Calvin for a moment. "Such as?" |
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Calvin pulled out his notes and tore off a page with the titles and handed it to him. |
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Waite raised his glasses to read the titles. |
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"The microfilms containing these are missing from Wilson Library, and I'm told you people don't keep back issues." |
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"Unfortunately, that's true." |
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"It's a long shot but I was hoping someone might remember the stories." |
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"May I ask what your interest is?" |
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"Well, the titles seem part of a series about Magog land being used as a toxic dump." |
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Waite made a noncommittal nod. |
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"That depends on the reasons for your interest." |
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It wasn't an answer he expected. Nor was Waite's apparent protectiveness. "I'm concerned that my house might be sitting on it." |
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"What makes you think that?" |
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"Several reasons," Calvin said, "not the least of which is all this |
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