Grimoires and Where to Find Them by Raconteur, Honor (ebook reader for laptop .txt) 📕

Snorting, I assured her dryly, “Still dealing with the idiots. Probably always will be. At any rate, the men you’re working with now will not look at you as a liability. Trust me.”

“That’s because I’m pretty sure she can squash me.” Gerring joined us with a grin and a wave hello. “And I know you can.”

Since I trained with him on a weekly basis, he didn’t have any doubt.

“But you are improving.”

Gerring rolled his pretty blues at me. “I’d take that as a compliment if I wasn’t sure you were holding back.”

“I try not to break my colleagues. Bad things happen. Like paperwork.” I pointed to the two files on my desk I’d just finished. “Be a lamb, drop those off for me. Evidence Locker. We’re just waiting on Henri. He messaged me a bit ago saying he had info and possibly a few leads.”

With a nod, Gerring gathered them up and went to turn them in at the Evidence Building.

Niamh leaned in and asked in a low tone, “You’re really training him?”

“He’s already a detective, actually. I’m keeping him with me a bit longer so I can pass along more of my tricks. We spar with each other on a weekly basis, to keep fighting fit.” I sighed, remembering past cases. “You’ll discover the bad guys like to run.”

“But they can’t outrun you, can they?”

My grin turned wicked. “No. But they don’t know that.”

As if a sensor had gone off, both Felixes lifted their heads at the same time, turning towards the door. Then they said in unison, “Henri!”

My cuddly boyfriend strolled in, shaking off raindrops as he moved. He wasn’t very wet, barely damp, but the moisture lingered in the dark curls of his hair and smattered along the tops of his shoulders. He greeted us all with a smile.

“Hello, everyone, sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Is it raining outside?” I hoped not. We had possible interviews to do.

“It just started drizzling, and I fear the storm will get worse before it gets better.” Henri deposited Phil onto the desk with the other two, then propped a hip comfortably up against the side of my desk. “Well. I have good news and troubling news.”

“Oh, boy.” I sighed and requested, “Wait until the other two get here. Gerring is dropping something off at Evidence for me.”

“Foster?” Henri inquired.

I had my mouth open to say I didn’t know, when the front door to the precinct opened again and Foster hurried through. He gave himself a shake upon entry, getting the rain off of him as best he could, then spied us. The werefox looked a bit deflated with damp fur but still lively as he crossed quickly to the desk.

“Hello, hello, am I late?”

“Not at all,” Henri assured him. “We’re waiting on Gerring. Was there any progress on the other two stolen volumes?”

“Not much. We had a rare volume of Mrs. Addison’s Book of Manners taken. Apparently a first edition, which is hard to find, as there was a mistake in that one and they pulled most of them from the shelves within the first week. Only a hundred and fifty copies were sold. Still, it’s not in huge demand, so it’s not as priceless as it could be.”

“Worth two thousand crowns,” Niamh pitched in. “The other one was worth a bit more, priced about five thousand crowns. It was a collection of stories, fully illustrated and in mint condition.”

“A McAllister collection,” Foster explained.

This meant nothing to me, but Henri’s expression immediately cleared in understanding. Gerring had told me the McAllister books were tales meant for children. Kind of like a Beatrix Potter or something along those lines, that was my understanding. She was a very well-loved author, and basically every child grew up hearing at least some of her stories.

I picked up the thread. “It’s another of those cases where the vendor turned to help a client, turned back, book was gone. No trace of it anywhere. We’ll have to keep an eye out for it and hope it turns up somewhere. Is there any way we can notify other brokers that these books were stolen and ask them to report to us if they see them?”

“I think we can. It might mean having a few flyers printed up, or something of that nature, but it’s the best way to get the word out. And, really, the thieves either intend to keep the volumes themselves or sell them.”

I felt it only wise to point out the obvious. “The other two books stolen weren’t grimoires, so I’m not sure if we can connect all three thefts to one person. It’s a big faire, bound to attract more than one thief.”

Henri accepted the point with a shrug.

“In the case of the grimoire, I’m almost certain it’s not a magician doing the thefts at this point because the box was left behind. Any magician would know better and not take the risk. And with this set, it’s definitely a risk. But that leaves selling them, and the easiest way to get the full value of the books would be to sell them to another broker.” Henri frowned slightly in thought, absently running a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure how many brokers there are in the city.”

“Quite a few, I’d think. That’s one of the things we’ll need to figure out, and divvy up, so we can talk with all the players.”

Gerring came back in. I spied his approach and waved him closer. “Okay, the gang’s all here. Hit us, Henri.”

He was used to all my colloquialisms and calmly reported what he’d learned. “My friend, in fact, had a volume from the Reaper’s Set at one time. He reported it stolen two weeks ago, along with its protective box.”

I winced. “Oh, this isn’t going to be good.”

“I examined the broken lock, and he’s quite correct. A thief came in and relieved him of it. He did report the theft but said it wasn’t taken seriously.”

Henri got that devilish gleam