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

we really were there to talk to you about the Reaper’s Set. When the same person’s name crops up in various witness interviews, they become a person of interest. I hoped you would shed some light on the value of the set, maybe give me a list of potential leads to follow.”

Walcott blinked at her as if she was suddenly speaking another language, one he couldn’t understand. “Wait. You really were there about the Reaper’s Set?”

“We really were. Of course, after you left, I got a warrant and searched your office, so I’m very clear on why you ran.”

“I also had to take immediate action on the grimoire you were slicing up,” I threw in with a glare. “You’re lucky you didn’t take a hand off or destroy your office with the way you were cutting out pages. The grimoire was leaking magic everywhere when I found it.”

Walcott looked on the verge of tears. “So, if I’d played ignorant, you would have passed right by me?”

“Eh, maybe.”

He didn’t have the nerves for it, though. I think the only saving grace he’d had so far was that no one suspected him of any foul play. If even one person had, he would have given himself away long before this.

“But that’s a moot point. We know what you’ve been doing. Now, after you ran, you went to whom?”

“An acquaintance,” he maintained stubbornly. Not going to rat out his friend, apparently. “I didn’t know what to do. I assumed you were onto me. I wanted to get out of Kingston quickly but discreetly so you couldn’t track me. I went to this person for help. But while there, I bumped into Searle Massimo.”

He said the name with true fear and a sort of distaste, as if the syllables felt unpleasant in his mouth. I noted the name down in my notebook, excited that we finally had a lead.

“Searle Massimo being…?”

“The man who wants to kill me.”

While I understood why Walcott found that to be the most important fact, it didn’t really explain much. “Why?”

Walcott slumped, and he went back to staring at his hands. “The reason why I was so sure you were onto me when inquiring about the Reaper’s Set was that I had one of the volumes, at one point.”

A chill slid up my spine. Oh, great magic, please do not let him say what I feared he would say. “Had one…and sold intact, I hope?”

He shook his head despondently. “No.”

Jamie threw up a hand, staying him. “Wait, hold up, I’m confused. We’ve verified where each volume of the Reaper’s Set is. All the owners have been alerted and have protections around their books. They’re good. Well, I mean, four of them have been stolen, but no one mentioned a word to me about one that’s been chopped up. And trust me, we’d know—we spoke to the box maker.”

“Ah, you’re referring to the official set. Fourteen books plus the journal, correct?”

I nodded slowly, confused. “Well, yes?”

Walcott shook his head.

“Radman wrote another book, one that should have been included in the set. It was an earlier edition, one written when he was barely out of his teens. It wasn’t as brilliant as the later works. Or, well, I suppose it was more advanced, but not cutting-edge genius. This grimoire was more for the common spells he liked to use. It wasn’t sealed up with the others, but kept out for family use. When it came time to number the volumes for the set, this one was left out, as it wasn’t found with the others. I think the family forgot they even had it, until one of the descendants ran across it in the family library. He contacted me to see if I was interested in adding it to my collection. I said yes, and bought it.”

That uneasy feeling in my gut tightened. I suspected I would not like what he said next.

His eyes came up to meet mine, expression desperate for my understanding and sympathy.

“I fully intended to buy the rest of the Reaper’s Set, to put it all together and add in this new volume, and to repackage it. Sell it as a complete collection. The money from that sell alone would mean I could close up shop and retire, comfortably. No more copper-pinching every month to pay my bills. But no one would sell. Do you understand? I contacted every owner of the Reaper’s Set for months, over and over, and not one person would sell to me.”

“No,” I said in a soft tone, realizing now the point where things went very wrong. “No, they wouldn’t have. Marvella Radman made sure to vet each person who possessed a volume. She didn’t want the information to fall into the wrong hands. It wasn’t about possessing a rare volume to them. It was about guarding a legacy.”

Walcott’s expression crumpled.

“I didn’t realize. Not at the time I bought that grimoire and came up with my plan. I didn’t realize they weren’t like regular collectors. When I failed, for so many months, I was stuck again in the same situation I’d been trying to escape from. Worse, because I’d spent so much time trying to win them over, I’d neglected to sell enough to pay my bills, and I was dangerously low on money. No one remembered this grimoire. No one would notice its absence. And trying to sell it as a long-lost grimoire from the set wouldn’t work. They’d think it was a forgery or something.”

“Even with a Radman providing providence for it?” Jamie protested.

Walcott’s mouth twisted. “The family is hard up for money. Everyone knows that. And some of Lady Radman’s cousins are not…trustworthy.”

“Ah. Got it.” Jamie shook her head, as if not surprised anymore. She also made a note to look into the cousins, which was wise. They might be good suspects.

I winced in anticipation as the words left my mouth. “You sliced it up and sold individual pages, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Walcott admitted, pale now, hands trembling on the