Martin Lefcort bit his lip as he leaned forward to examine the contents of the worn suitcase on his desk. He picked through the documents delicately, not wanting to damage a single scrap of the precious paper. Then he looked across the desk at Willard Higgins and smiled, the smile of a satisfied business man.
"That's quite a collection, all right," he said. "I didn't know anyone in the world possessed such a huge file of St. John memorabilia..."
"It's taken many years," Higgins said. "Mr. St. John became quite a good friend and wrote me often." He bounced his fingertips together. 'If I may ask what you think they're worth ..."
"Oh, it'll be a good amount I promise you. You remember what I told you the last time you were here?"
"Yes," Willard Higgins said distantly. "You said these papers would be worth ten times as much after Mr. St. John's death."
Lefcort sighed. "True," he said "How sad to realize that he is no longer with us ..."
"Yes," said Willard Higgins, Maxwell St. John's number one fan.