But, wouldn’t they have been safer here in town? Was it wise to transport them a long distance, rattling around in the back of a van? The museum couldn’t have packed them for transport already; under those circumstances, that is, if they had packed them, then surely they would know their whereabouts. There couldn’t be more than one loading area in the museum. So, the two of them must have been sitting out, under a simple throw cover at best. The thief or thieves didn’t have time to pack them carefully before they removed them from the building. It was impossible to secure them in the car. The thief, if he wanted to preserve them from harm, stopped somewhere nearby, after as short a trip as was consistent with avoiding discovery, in order to secure them for a longer trip. For that, it would be necessary to find a place near the museum with a loading bay, or at least a decent-sized entrance, off the street; and it would have to be empty. There was no sense in risking discovery, signing leases and so on. The thing to do was to drive them to an empty building with a loading bay off the street. There had to be a bay, because securing them meant crating them, and a bulky crate is not going to fit through an ordinary door.

I drove around all day until my head swam, and I realized I was bound for an accident. I kept going and going, circling blocks, feeling sure that, the moment I saw the right building, I would know, but the sidewalks were busy with people, there were lights in all the windows, commerce everywhere, and it was no place for them. Where were they? By the end of the day I had to pull over. My hands were shaking. What was happening, what was being done to them? They existed, they were lost, in motion somewhere in the world around me, and in danger, terrible danger.