Read Online Franklin Affair by Jim Lehrer - Free Book Online

do—which was take temporary professional possession of these newly discovered papers.
    With Braxton’s assistance, he carefully placed each sheet between larger pieces of cardboard and then slid them in a large manila envelope, which was then fitted inside a large hard-cornered briefcase.
    â€œI will examine them in detail, have whatever tests run that are needed and have them back to you within a few weeks,” R said.
    Braxton, proving again that he was no fool, had agreed enthusiastically to R’s suggestion but with the request that R sign a detailed receipt, which he now did.
    â€œI would like to see the cloak before I go—if that’s all right?” R asked, once the packing and signing were completed. He had barely looked at it on the way upstairs. His focus was then on seeing the papers.
    Braxton took the cloak down from the display frame. R could tell at a glance that here was truly an article of beauty and substance, fully prepared to exist for another two hundred and fifty years.
    It was a heavy single-breasted greatcoat, made of stiff, tightly woven navy blue worsted wool. The inside was lined with a softer red wool, the sleeves with white linen. An attached cape, large enough when turned up to almost cover the head, had red plush wool sewed on its outside. There were quarter-sized covered buttons down the front and on the sleeves.
    R was struck by the cloak’s majestically permanent feel and look. Only men of substance in America wore them. This particular coat was clearly designed for a husky man, one with broad shoulders and a height of nearly six feet.
    â€œI assume there is no question on the dating of this,” said R.
    â€œNone at all. The chain of possession is clear. A Pennsylvania colony man, identified unmistakably as Joshiah Ross, had it made in London in 1754. The condition is remarkably good, so he must have been a man of means and property and probably had more than one such cloak. It was passed down through his family, with a record we have upstairs in our files, until it was given to us last year just before I arrived. I can make you a copy of that record, if you like.”
    R said he would appreciate it. “Who found the papers in the lining?”
    â€œI did myself,” said Braxton, with a flash of pride. “At first, I thought it was simply a thick lining. But then, the more I felt around, I could tell there was a bulge; something was in there.”
    R ran his fingers along the lining on the side that had obviously been sliced open to retrieve the papers. “It must have been difficult to decide to cut into this.”
    â€œIt was, it really was. It scares me now to think about it. I probably should have sent it to Colonial Williamsburg or the Smithsonian or someplace like that and let them do it. But I was so excited I just went ahead myself. I cut along the seam so no damage was done . . . as you can see.”
    Yes, R could see that. He also said a short silent prayer of thanksgiving. It was more than possible that, if the cloak had gone to experts, the Ben-as-murderer story, if in fact these papers suggested it, would have already been on the front pages and the talk shows.
    Assuming, of course, that the suggestion was serious—and credible. Having spent less than an hour with the papers and their words and symbols, R was not yet prepared to assume anything or rule out anything—including the very worst.
    Braxton disappeared to make copies of the papers about Joshiah Ross and the greatcoat while R continued to study and admire this remarkable piece of clothing. Whatever the validity and significance of the papers in its lining, this cloak itself was quite a find.
    On the way out several minutes later, Braxton suddenly asked R, “Do you know a Clara Hopkins at BFU?”
    R stopped. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
    â€œShe called this morning and asked about these same papers. She said she worked for the late Dr. Rush, and