Ben studied the other man thoughtfully. “I’m not sure.”
“You appreciate the possibilities, but you question them, too. You seek the challenges that are promised, but you fear they may be only paper windmills. Think of it — a world like nothing anyone on this earth has ever seen! But it sounds impossible. If I might invoke a time-honored cliche, it sounds too good to be true.”
“It does.”
“Like a man walking on — the moon?”
Ben thought a moment. “More like truth in lending. Or full faith and credit between sister states. Or perhaps consumer protection against false advertising.”
Meeks stared at him. “You are a lawyer, Mr. Holiday?”
“I am.”
“And you believe in our system of justice, then?”
“I do.”
“You do, but you know as well that it doesn’t always work, don’t you? You want to believe in it, but it disappoints you much too often.”
He waited. “That’s a fair statement, I suppose,” Ben admitted.
“And you think it might be that way with Landover as well.” Meeks made it a statement of fact, not a question. He leaned forward, his craggy face intense. “Well, it isn’t. Landover is exactly what the advertisement promises. It has everything that the advertisement says that it has and much more — things that are only myth in this world, things only barely imagined. But real in Landover, Mr. Holiday. Real!”
“Dragons, Mr. Meeks?”
“All of the mythical fairy creatures, Mr. Holiday — exactly as promised.”
Ben folded his hands before him. “I’d like to believe you, Mr. Meeks. I came to New York to inquire about this… catalogue item because I want to believe it exists. Can you show me anything that would help prove what you say?”
“You mean flyers, color brochures, pictures of the land, references?” His face tightened. “They don’t exist, Mr. Holiday. This item is a carefully protected treasure. The specifics of where it lies, what it looks like, what it offers — that is all privileged information which can be released only to the buyer whom I, as the seller’s designated agent, ultimately select. As a lawyer, I am sure that you can appreciate the limitations imposed upon me by the word privileged,’ Mr. Holiday.”
“Is the identity of the seller privileged as well, Mr. Meeks?”
“It is.”
“And the reason that this item is being offered for sale in the first place?”
“Privileged, Mr. Holiday.”
“Why would anyone sell something as marvelous as this fantasy kingdom, Mr. Meeks? I keep asking myself that question. I keep asking myself if I’m not somehow buying a piece of the Brooklyn Bridge. How do I know that your seller even has the authority to sell Landover?”
Meeks smiled, an attempt at reassurance. “That was all checked carefully prior to listing. I supervised the inquiry myself.”
Ben nodded. “So it all comes down to your word, doesn’t it?”
Meeks sat back again. “No, Mr. Holiday. It comes down to the worldwide reputation of Rosen’s as a department store that always delivers what it offers exactly as promised in its catalogues and advertisements. It comes down to the terms of the contract the store offers to the buyer on specialty items such as this one — a contract that permits recovery of the entire purchase price less a small handling fee should the item fail to prove satisfactory. It comes down to the way we do business.”
“Could I see a copy of this contract?”
Meeks bridged the fingers of his gloved hand against his chin and stroked the ridges and lines of his face. “Mr. Holiday, I wonder if we might first back this conversation up a bit to permit me to fulfill the terms of my consignment of this specialty item. You are here to decide whether or not you wish to purchase Landover. But you are also here so that I might decide whether or not you qualify as a purchaser. Would a few questions to that end be an imposition?”
Ben shook his head. “I wouldn’t think so. But I’ll tell you if they are.”
Meeks smiled like the Cheshire Cat and nodded his understanding.
For the next thirty minutes or so, he asked his questions. He asked them very much the way a skilled attorney would ask them of a witness at an oral deposition in pre-trial discovery — with tact, with brevity, and with purpose. Meeks knew what he was looking for, and he probed for it with the experienced touch of a surgeon. Ben Holiday had seen a good many trial lawyers in his years of practice, some of them more accomplished than he. But he had never seen anyone as good as Meeks.