The line rang five times before someone answered. The voice on the other end was thin, old, and careful. “Hello?” Arthur cleared his throat. “Professor Varga?” There was a pause. “Yes.” “My name is Arthur Bell. I’m sorry to call so late, but I believe I may have something that belongs to you.”
Another pause followed. This one lasted so long Arthur thought the line had gone dead. Then he heard a small sound, almost like a breath being caught. “A leather suitcase?” the professor asked. Arthur looked at the open case on his table. “Yes. With a brass device inside. And a journal.”
The old man said nothing for a moment. Then his voice broke. “I thought it was gone forever.” Arthur did not know what to say. Across the quiet line, he could hear the professor trying not to cry. Suddenly, the suitcase felt even heavier than before.