Page 86 of The Missing Pages
“Yes.” Violet frowned. “It has made all of us working there on edge.”
“I can’t even imagine who would do something like that.” Lottie shook her head. “That’s the good thing about having a small store likeours, I can keep a log of all of my clients, so it’s easy to manage who comes and goes through here.”
“Smart,” Violet said. “Speaking of keeping ledgers… A friend of mine and I are meeting at Leavitt and Peirce in a few minutes to go through their old records with the owner. We’re going to check if we can discover what kind of tobacco Harry ordered when he was at Harvard.”
“He would have that in his records? How wonderful!” Lottie seemed delighted. “That’s an old-school shop for you!”
“Yes.” Violet smiled. “It certainly is.”
“But why do you want to know what kind of tobacco he smoked though? Are you thinking of giving it as a gift to someone?”
“Sort of,” Violet replied. She adored Lottie, but she was pressed for time and wasn’t sure a woman nearly eighty years old would approve of her real reason. She and Theo were planning on bringing along a tin of it when they met the medium, Lux.
They only had a small window of time, but Theo and Violet had arranged to meet the owner of Leavitt and Peirce before they left for the break. Fortunately, the owner, Mr. MacKay, had been intrigued when Violet contacted him and had agreed to show them what archival material he had at the store.
“I’m glad this worked out,” Theo said as he waited for Violet just outside the shop. “I’m taking an early train home tomorrow.”
“Mine’s at noon, but yes, it will be great to see if he has any record of what Harry might have bought from there when he was at school.”
They stepped inside the shop and asked to see Mr. MacKay.
“You must be Violet.” He smiled. Dressed in an elegant suit and tie, he embodied the persona of an old-fashioned gentleman.
“And I’m Theo. Thank you for taking the time to meet with us.” Theo extended his hand.
“Of course. One of the wonderful things about stewarding this store is its history. The original owners, Fred Leavitt and Waldo Peirce, kept meticulous records. So when you called, I knew there was a strong chance I’d be able to find yousomething.”
“We were hoping you’d say that,” Violet said, excited. They followed him to the back office.
“Well, where should I begin?” he inquired. “I can tell you that the store’s business really started exploding around the time Mr. Widener was here. Mr. Leavitt’s ledgers almost doubled.”
“Do you know why?” Theo asked.
“If I’m correct, until 1900 or so, Harvard was predominantly attended by young men just from the New England area. But around the time Mr. Widener arrived in 1904, they started accepting men from all over, including from the Midwest and even the West Coast. Not too many from the South, though.” He grinned. “Losing the Civil War was a bitter pill for many of those southern families to swallow.”
“That makes sense,” Violet said.
“Anyway, in 1908, which was the year you mentioned Mr. Widener graduated, the store did keep ledgers of those patrons who bought on credit. And we actually had separate ledgers just for students enrolled at Harvard… probably because some of them paid their bills directly, while others had their accounts settled by their families and it kept things easier for accounting.”
Mr. MacKay walked over to a large desk where a thick dusty brown ledger lay, and motioned for Violet and Theo to come closer.
“Look here,” he said as he slowly turned the parchment-colored pages. “I was able to find your Mr. Elkins Widener consistently mentioned among our clients.”
“That’s amazing!” Violet gripped her hands.
“And even better,” he said as he got to where Harry’s information was labeled, “it seems he was consistent in his choice of blend. We created it for him specifically, a combination of oak, vanilla, bourbon, and coffee. He seems to have named it too. It’s called ‘Treasure Island.’”
“That was one of his favorite books!” Violet brightened. “That makes total sense.”
“Do you think you could re-create it for us? We’d buy it of course,” Theo said.
McKay peered down at the paper. “I think we absolutely could. Come with me.” He motioned them toward the front.
They moved back through the store, shadowing the man as he took a pinch of tobacco from a variety of glass jars, putting his nose into the brown paper every now and then to make sure the proportion was just right. “How much do you want? A few grams?”
Violet nodded. “That sounds good. It’s just a token gift for someone.”
“I’ll ring you right up,” Mr. McKay said as they walked toward the vintage cash machine near the front door.
