“That’s terrible,” April said, putting a hand over her mouth and sensing where all the questioning was leading. “You think they might be coming here next?”

Meng answered hesitantly. “Maybe.”

“We should move the Gutenberg to a security vault on the basement level right away.” April approached a red phone attached to the wall and picked it up.

Meng raised a hand. “No need to call.”

April hung up the phone. “Why not?”

“Because we’re about to arrest the person responsible.”

“Who?”

“You, Ms. Adams,” he said, snapping handcuffs around her wrists.

Disbelief stunned April into momentary silence. She fumbled for an articulate response.

“What are you talking about? I would never do anything to jeopardize the Gutenberg!”

Meng got in her face. “We’ve got e-mails, phone calls, text messages, everything we could ever need to put you away for a very long time.” He grabbed the chain between the cuffs and directed her toward the exit.

Officer Norman Briggs came blustering into the room. “What’s going on in here?”

Meng held out his ID, keeping one hand firmly on April. “FBI,” he said. “This woman is being arrested for conspiring with known felons.”

“Norman, help me,” April pleaded. “They think I’m trying to steal the Gutenberg.”

“That’s nonsense,” Norman said. He turned to Meng. “Does she really look like a thief ?”

“I don’t base my investigations on looks.”

“I’m just saying that I think you’ve got the wrong man,” Norman said. “Er . . . I mean . . . the wrong woman. I’ve known April since her first day here, and I can vouch for her dedication to the Library of Congress. I’d bet my life on the fact she’s innocent.”

“I’d take you up on that bet,” Meng said. “But it just seems wrong to gamble on a person’s life.” He continued moving her toward the door.

Norman followed them. “What do you want me to do, April?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking back, flustered. She’d never had so much as a speeding ticket, and now here she was, being dragged away by the FBI for conspiring to steal a national treasure. “Just make sure no one takes the Gutenberg.”

Two more men whom April presumed to be agents came in just as she and Meng reached the door. They took hold of April’s arms from either side. She looked Norman directly in the eye. “Please help me.”

He stared at her. An understanding passed between them; then he turned to Meng. “I never would have believed it,” he said, shaking his head. “She seemed so loyal.”

“The best ones always do,” Meng said, pushing open the door.