“You don’t happen to have it on your shelves, do you?”
“No, not that one. I do have a couple of other law books, though. It would make me very happy if I could interest him in one of them.”
“Just out of curiosity, how much?”
“They’re both first editions, one is five hundred dollars and the other is one thousand dollars.”
“Wow, I had no idea.”
“You think that’s a lot of money, there’s an Internet site that lists law books with prices ranging from one dollar to ten million.”
“What is a first edition, anyway?”
“A first edition is a copy of a book printed from the first setting of type. It’s the first time the text appears in public in that form.”
“And how do you know it’s a first edition?”
“Well, that can be one of the most difficult aspects of collecting. One of the keys is to verify that the book is at least a first printing. A number line on the copyright page often indicates this, with the lowest number being the printing.”
“I know you deal in both antiquarian and rare books. What’s the difference?”
“Antiquarian refers to collecting older/antique books. The age of a book has very little to do with its value, by the way. Dealers and collectors consider factors like intrinsic importance, condition, and demand.”
“Do you think it will take you long to find this particular book for my friend?”
“It depends, if my usual sources don’t have it, I’ll try the Internet. Sometimes I can have it in a week and sometimes it takes months for a book to turn up.”
“Well, he’s been looking a long time for it, and I’m sure he won’t mind waiting a little longer.”
“Hey, not to change the subject,” said the man on the screen with a saucy tip of his head, “but changing the subject, I’m going to be out your way on business in a couple of weeks, how about getting together for dinner?”
“You ask me that every time I talk to you. I’m truly flattered but I don’t think I can,” said Alyx.
“And that’s what you say every time I ask.”
“So why do you keep asking?”
“I keep hoping you’ll change your mind.”
“Call me when you find the book, and I’ll let you know about dinner.”
I already knew what her answer was going to be. She had asked Ethan once what he thought about her dating a younger man. He said it would only bother him if the guy were close to his own age. Although it’s difficult to tell someone’s age these days, this guy didn’t look a lot older than Ethan did, maybe ten to fifteen years older.
After this Internet chat, I figured Alyx was safe in the office for a while, so I went back out on the floor to make my rounds and check on my housemates who were also on the lookout for anything unusual. I expected foul play from one of three suspects: Rupert Moresby, Dan Ramsey, or Charvette.
After Pooky’s friend Jemma had reported that according to James Dunne, Novie had decided not to sell, I figured one of them was going to make a move soon.
“It always gives me a shiver when I see a cat seeing what I can’t see.”
––Eleanor Farjeon
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: The Cats Help Prevent a Murder
The next day, Alyx moved a couple of pieces of light furniture away from the entrance and unlocked the door before Charvette arrived. Maggie had taken a couple of well-deserved days off to spend with George and Bernice had called in sick, so it was just the two of them and the three of us in the store. I instructed the girls to be on the lookout for a walrus mustache, and black button eyes, although I wasn’t sure of what or even if anything was going to happen. That meant no napping. They didn’t like that and I had to remind them that our job was to help our humans.
“The weather report I heard before I left the house said nothing about rain today…it sure looks like rain to me,” said Charvette, sounding a little angry about it.
“Personally,” said Alyx, “I think the weather people try to put a positive spin on the weather so as not to scare the tourists from going out and spending money.”
“I think it’s silly when they say there’s a twenty percent chance of rain and its pouring outside,” laughed Charvette unusually loud.
The day was slow, giving Alyx the time she needed to work on the projects that had fallen behind. A few regular customers had come in during the day to check for new merchandise and bring goodies for the cats, and we rewarded with loud purrs.
The threatening storm clouds swirling overhead all afternoon had gathered into a serious thunderstorm by early evening, releasing torrential rain with no sign of letting up. Charvette was with a customer when Rupert Moresby walked in and stood by the counter. Pooky let out a yowl and ran off somewhere, the reason unknown to anyone. Misty chased after her, and I took an Egyptian cat pose on the checkout counter. Charvette acknowledged Moresby’s presence with a clandestine nod and he left. Then, she left for her dinner break as soon as she finished with her customer.
On Friday evenings, employees had two hours for dinner. They could go whenever they chose as long as they were back by eight o’clock. Both Alyx and Maggie felt very strongly about two people always being in the store for closing, not because there had been any trouble but only because they wanted to play it safe.
While she waited for Charvette to get back, Alyx kept busy looking for the perfect place to hang the latest item George had dropped off that morning––a child’s chair turned into a shelf. The last customer had left half an hour earlier. Tired and bored, Alyx broke the store’s rule of always having two people in the store at closing, locked the front door, and started to close out the cash register.
She had just put the cash in a zippered bag and was stepping out from behind the counter when the back door opened and shut with a thud. She called out a greeting to Charvette, proceeding towards the office to secure the money in the safe until she could get it ready for deposit.
Suddenly, there was a sharp crack of thunder from above followed by another sound, a loud pop. My natural instincts forced me to run for cover. A bullet whizzed by me and lodged in the back of the wing chair to Alyx’s right. Confused as to the direction of the shot, she dropped behind the couch in front of her.
I heard another shot fired, this time striking the wall behind her. Rain was still coming down hard but the thunder was moving away.
“If its money you want, you can have it.” She tossed the bag in the direction the last shot had come from. “You don’t have to kill me. I don’t know who you are or even what you look like. You have nothing to fear. Just take it and go.”
Alyx crawled on her hands and knees to the end of the couch and peered around the corner. Charvette, dripping wet hair, mascara running down her cheeks, was holding the handgun kept in the desk drawer in the office. She spoke in a strange, hollow voice from a place beyond my understanding:
“Money, that’s all everybody thinks about; you, Rupert, Novie. Well, guess what Alyx,” she hissed waving the gun around, “I don’t want your money.”
Alyx froze in place. “Then, what do you want?”
“It’s all your fault, you know. You ruined it all. He was going to divorce her and marry me,” she said with a sob.
I took a position on top of a tall bookshelf, just to the right of Charvette.
Alyx kept her voice level as she looked around for something she could use to defend herself.
“I don’t understand. What do I have to do with that?”
“Oh, you have plenty to do with it. It’s your fault she changed her mind,” Charvette kept babbling. “He was just waiting till she sold the building so he could get his business back up and running. You talked her out of it. She was going to sell until she heard you weren’t. She told him you discussed your reasons for not selling and she was inspired to hold on to her dream. What about my dreams, Alyx? What about my dreams?” she whimpered.