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Three pay telephones stand near the subway exit in the center of Eastern Parkway。 One of the telephones has been ripped out。 One of the others works。
Dolarhyde fed it quarters until Reba said； 〃Hello。〃
He could hear darkroom noises over her voice。
〃Hello； Reba；〃 he said。
〃Hey； D。 How're you feeling？〃
Traffic passing on both sides made it hard for him to hear。 〃Okay。〃
〃Sounds like you're at a pay phone。 I thought you were home sick。〃
〃I want to talk to you later。〃
〃Okay。 Call me late； all right？〃
〃I need to 。 。 。 see you。〃
〃I want you to see me； but I can't tonight。 I have to work。 Will you call me？〃
〃Yeah。 If nothing 。 。 。〃
〃Excuse me？〃
〃I'll call。〃
〃I do want you to e soon； D。〃
〃Yeah。 Good…bye 。 。 。 Reba。〃
All right。 Fear trickled from his breastbone to his belly。 He squeezed it and crossed the street。
Entrance to the Brooklyn Museum on Tuesdays is through a single door on the extreme right。 Dolarhyde went in behind four art students。 The students piled their knapsacks and satchels against the wall and got out their passes。 The guard behind the desk checked them。
He came to Dolarhyde。
〃Do you have an appointment？〃
Dolarhyde nodded。 〃Painting Study； Miss Harper。〃
〃Sign the register； please。〃 The guard offered a pen。 Dolarhyde had his own pen ready。 He sigued 〃Paul Crane。〃 The guard dialed an upstairs extension。 Dolarhyde turned his back to the desk and studied Robert Blum's Vintage Festival over the entrance while the guard confirmed his appointment。 From the er of his eye he could see one more security guard in the lobby。 Yes； that was the one with the gun。
〃Back of the lobby by the shop there's a bench next to the main elevators；〃 the desk officer said。 〃Wait there。 Miss Harper's ing down for you。〃 He handed Dolarhyde a pink…on…white plastic badge。
〃Okay if I leave my guitar here？〃
〃I'll keep an eye on it。〃
The museum was different with the lights turned down。 There was twilight among the great glass cases。
Dolarhyde waited on the bench for three minutes before Miss Harper got off the public elevator。
〃Mr。 Crane？ I'm Paula Harper。〃
She was younger than she had sounded on the telephone when he called from St。 Louis； a sensible…looking woman； severely pretty。 She wore her blouse and skirt like a uniform。
〃You called about the Blake watercolor；〃 she said。 〃Let's go upstairs and I'll show it to you。 We'll take the staff elevator … this way。〃
She led him past the dark museum shop and through a small room lined with primitive weapons。 He looked around fast to keep his bearings。 In the corner of the Americas section was a corridor which led to the small elevator。
Miss Harper pushed the button。 She hugged her elbows and waited。 The clear blue eyes fell on the pass； pink on white； clipped to Dolarhyde's lapel。
〃That's a sixth…floor pass he gave you；〃 she said。 〃It doesn't matter … there aren't any guards on five today。 What kind of research are you doing？〃
Dolarhyde had made it on smiles and nods until now。 〃A paper on Butts；〃 he said。
〃On William Butts？〃
He nodded。
〃I've never read much on him。 You only see him in footnotes as a patron of Blake's。 Is he interesting？〃
〃I'm just beginning。 I'll have to go to England。〃
〃I think the National Gallery has two watercolors he did for Butts。 Have you seen them yet？〃
〃Not yet。〃
〃Better write ahead of time。〃
He nodded。 The elevator came。
Fifth floor。 He was tingling a little； but he had blood in his arms and legs。 Soon it would be just yes or no。 If it went wrong； he wouldn't let them take him。
She led him down the corridor of American portraits。 This wasn't the way he came before。 He could tell where he was。 It was all right。
But something waited in the corridor for him； and when he saw it he stopped dead still。
Paula Harper realized he wasn't following and turned around。 He was rigid before a niche in the wall of portraits。 She came back to him and saw what he was staring at。 〃That's a Gilbert Stuart portrait of George Washington；〃 she said。
No it wasn't。
〃You see a similar one on the dollar bill。 They call it a Lansdowne portrait because Stuart did one for the Marquis of Lansdowne to thank him for his support in the American Revolution 。 。 。 Are you all right； Mr。 Crane？〃
Dolarhyde was pale。 This was worse than all the dollar bills he had ever seen。 Washington with his hooded eyes and bad false teeth stared out of the frame。 My God he looked like Grandmother。 Dolarhyde felt like a child with a rubber knife。
〃Mr。 Crane； are you okay？〃
Answer or blow it all。 Get past this。 My God； man； that's so sweeeet。 YOU'RE THE DIRTIEST。 。 。 No。
Say something。
〃I'm taking cobalt；〃 he said。 〃Would you like to sit down for a few minutes？〃 There was a faint medicinal smell about him。
〃No。 Go ahead。 I'm ing。〃
And you are not going to cut me； Grandmother。 God damn you； I'd kill you if you weren't already dead。 Already dead。 Already dead。 Grandmother was already dead！ Dead now； dead for always。 My God； man； that's so sweeeet。
The other wasn't dead though； and Dolarhyde knew it
He followed Miss Harper through thickets of fear。
They went through double doors into the Painting Study and Storage Department。 Dolarhyde looked around qulckly。 It was a long； peaceful room； well…lighted and filled with carousel racks of draped paintings。 A row of small office cubicles was partitioned off along the wall。 The door to the cubicle on the far end was ajar； and he heard typing。
He saw no one but Paula Harper。
She took him to a counter…height work table and brought him a stool。
〃Wait here。 I'll bring the painting to you。〃
She disappeared behind the racks。
Dolarhyde undid a button at his belly。
Miss Harper was ing。 She carried a flat black case no bigger than a briefcase。 It was in there。 How did she have the strength to carry the picture？ He had never thought of it as flat。 He had seen the dimensions in the catalogs … 17 1/8 by 13 1/2 inches … but he had paid no attention to them。 He expected it to be immense。 But it was small。 It was small and it was here in a quiet room。 He had never realized how much strength the Dragon drew from the old house in the orchard。
Miss Harper was saying something 〃。 。 。 have to keep it in this solander box because light will fade it。 That's why it's not on display very often。〃
She put the case on the table and unclasped it。 A noise at the double doors。 〃Excuse me； I have to get the door for Julio。〃 She refastened the case and carried it with her to the glass doors。 A man with a wheeled dolly waited outside。 She held the doors open while he rolled it in。
〃Over here okay？〃
〃Yes； thank you； Julio。〃
The man went out。
Here came Miss Harper with the solander box。
〃I'm sorry； Mr。 Crane。 Julio's dusting today and getting the tarnish off some frames。〃 She opened the case and took out a white cardboard folder。 〃You understand that you aren't allowed to touch it。 I'll display it for you … that's the rule。 Okay？〃
Dolarbyde nodded。 He couldn't speak。
She opened the folder and removed the covering plastic sheet and mat。
There it was。 The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with the Sun … the