Gerring groaned. “That smile always means trouble. This is going to be difficult, isn’t it?”
“Probably,” I admitted freely. “Unless we get really lucky. I have to warn you, you rarely get really lucky.”
For some reason, no one was happy to hear that.
Can’t say I was overjoyed, myself.
Jamie had her methods, of course, and they were excellent ones. But in this particular case, I knew more than she did about the matter. Grimoires were not her forte. So, while she took the lead, I asserted myself more than usual.
To Niamh and Foster, I inquired, “Are you familiar with grimoires at all?”
Foster shook his head.
Niamh gave a half-shrug. “I’m not as familiar with human grimoires, but my own people have a type of grimoire. I think they operate on the same principles. I’ll be interested to see how the types match up.”
“As will I. I know that you do not, Jamie. Gerring? No? Alright, let’s find a quiet spot, and I’ll give you a short rundown on them.”
Jamie seemed agreeable to this plan, so we went out of the tent and found a table at a food stall, ordered drinks and sugary confections, and settled in. I, for one, welcomed the respite. Far from having an easy morning, I had instead about run my legs off. The faire buzzed around us, people passing by as if nothing ill had occurred. I ignored them as we settled in around the table, only shifting as Phil climbed into my lap. I was quite accustomed to having a “lap buddy,” as Jamie described it. I welcomed him and gave him a good rub behind his ears. He started purring as he settled.
With all eyes on me, I cleared my throat. “I’ll make this concise, as we’ll no doubt need to canvas the area.”
Jamie dipped her chin in agreement. “That’s my next suggestion. I want to know what else has been stolen here today.”
Gerring glanced around him, assessing the size of the faire as it sprawled out over the rather extensive grounds, and looked resigned. The other two were not far behind him.
“At least I’m wearing my comfortable boots,” Niamh noted rhetorically. “Alright, Doctor. What else do we need to know?”
“Allow me to explain a bit of the basics. The word ‘grimoire’ can mean quite a few things. Every magician learning the trade begins with a basic grimoire—it’s really nothing more than a notebook filled with the spells we learn. Most grimoires aren’t at all valuable. We learn by inscribing our own grimoires, but we quickly grow past those early editions. And, of course, as children we’re not allowed to use magical ink, so they’re more like notebooks filled with spells.
“My own from childhood, for instance. I only keep it for sentimental value. They’re so low in power they won’t need a box or even a ward. You can treat them much like a regular book without issue. What you’ll see at this faire is not of that ilk. These grimoires are from very famous magicians throughout history. They are filled with spells not found anywhere else—often created by the people who wrote them in the first place.”
Jamie let out a low whistle. “So…depending on the grimoire, you could gain a spell no one else really knows? Or has been forgotten over time?”
“Correct. It’s why collectors are so feverish about gaining a whole set. Often, in fact, magicians would scatter the spell between different volumes to keep any of their competitors from stealing their spells. Unless you have the full set, you can’t guarantee that you have the complete spell.”
I was pleased to see everyone taking note of this. It might impact the case as they worked on it. I was a firm believer that having a full, comprehensive understanding often led to breakthroughs in a case.
Gerring posed a question. “But does that mean our thief wants the spells contained within? Are we looking for someone power-hungry and dangerous?”
“While the possibility is there, it’s…suspect to me. This theft was very much a crime of opportunity. Ferrington was being careful with it, and he’d made no prior announcement it would be here today, which gave our thief no advanced warning. So, if our thief does have nefarious intentions and wants the grimoire for some dark purpose, his timing is incredible.”
Jamie snorted. “Yeah, seriously, the luck of the ages. I’m more inclined to think the thief wants it just because it’s valuable, although we can’t rule out that they’ll use the spells within for something bad.”
“Now, there’s another side to this.” I paused to take a sip of quite excellent lemonade. I might have to buy another cup for the journey home. “Some don’t buy grimoires for the knowledge contained within. In fact, it’s quite common for collectors to buy the volumes just to showcase them. The rarer the volume, the more bragging rights. Some volumes are insanely priced.”
Jamie’s tone turned acutely dry. “Like a certain volume you bought today?”
I slid her a wink. “Worse. These books can be more expensive than a house. They’re in high demand in the right circles of society. We have two points in our favor when it comes to this particular theft. One, the volume in question is highly recognizable, and there’s only one copy of it in the world. It will not be easy to pawn this off. And trying to pass it off as a forgery will only lower its value, doing the thief no good. Assuming he stole it to sell, that is.”
“At least something about this case is in our favor,” Gerring muttered under his breath, still writing away. “And the second point, sir?”
“The second point is that you are in a community of vigilant people. Book enthusiasts are very keen on preventing this sort of crime, they’re well-versed in what’s available on the market, and they’re quick to report to each other if they see something amiss. If we can get the word out about what’s happened, they may well do some of the legwork for us.”
Niamh shot me a dazzling smile. “Oh, that is good news. Then, can we tell people about the theft as we go through the faire?”
“Please do,” Jamie encouraged with a wave of the hand. “Tell absolutely everyone. No sense in keeping this quiet. But if the press gets wind of this, send them to me. I’ll handle them.”
I had little more to add at this point, as those were the basics. I put a hand on Jamie’s arm, drawing her attention to me.
“My dear, there is one other thing I’d like to do. I wish to contact acquaintances of mine and see who else has books from the Reaper’s Set. If the thief is a collector, then he’ll want to lay hands on the rest of the volumes. I’d like to verify, too, if the set has pieces of spells throughout, or if it’s more contained.”
“You think other books have possibly already been stolen?”
“I have no idea, and that’s rather the issue. We need to know. If nothing else, it will help spread word of what’s happened here and put people more on their guard.”
Jamie allowed this with a shrug. “It’s a good idea. Go for it. Gerring, why don’t you go with Foster and Niamh, as you’ve got more training at this sort of thing than they do. We’ll start at the north entrance, you start from the south, and we’ll meet in the middle. You’ve got your pad on you?”
“Yes, and charged,” Gerring promised, patting a bulge in his pocket.
“Good. Clint, Tasha, either of you want to go with them?”
Tasha hopped onto the table and crossed over to Gerring. “I’ll go. Look for sniffies.”
“Good girl, do that.”
We split up at that point, and this time I took more care with my own purchase, keeping it firmly tucked under my arm so a thief couldn’t take it out of my hands. Jamie linked arms with me on the other side, and we traced our way back to the main entrance so we could start this search fresh.
As we walked, Jamie asked, “Which do you think this is? A collector, a thief hoping to sell it to a collector, or a magician who wants the grimoire and can’t pay for it?”
“The first, but I could be wrong.” I waved a hand to the faire in general. “It’s mostly the box that makes me think this wasn’t a magician. Any magician worth their salt would know to take the it along. Especially with a grimoire like thi
s one, it would be almost suicidally dangerous to leave its protective box behind.”
“A magician would know better,” she murmured. “Hence why you’re not really worried about the book’s spells being used. Because you don’t think a magician took it.”
“Not really, no. There was no notice the grimoire would be here, after all. How would a magician know to come here to steal it?”
“How would a collector know to come here to get it?” she countered.
My nose scrunched up in frustration. “Indeed. Or was this a crime of opportunity?”
“It could well be. I mean, we know basically nothing at this point.”
The cat riding on her shoulder let out a happy purr before announcing, “Grandma!”
I choked. My mother was here?
“There’s my cute boy,” Ophelia cooed as she appeared out of the crowd, my father on her heels. She reached out with both hands, and Clint promptly went into them, purring and nuzzling her cheek. She nuzzled right back, a bright smile on her face.
My father ignored them and greeted us, a question on his face. “I didn’t expect you two here.”
“We were on a date,” Jamie explained with a shrug.
“Were?”
“A grimoire was stolen and the theft was reported to us.” I sighed, vexed that our date had been cut short. I’d have to find another day to spend with her properly. “We’re now canvassing the area to see if any other thefts have occurred. I take it you’re both here to shop?”
“It’s such a glorious day,” my mother explained, still cradling Clint and giving him scratches around the chin. The Felix was in heaven, clearly loving the attention. “I wanted to be out and about. And your father vetoed my first suggestion.”
Sotto voce, he informed me, “She wanted to go house shopping.”
I shot my mother a flat, unamused look. She had been far too exuberant about Jamie and I courting. To the point of being nonsensical. She kept making noises about either apartment being too small for us when we got married. About how it would be better if we had a house. Never mind that our relationship was nowhere near that level of intimacy yet. Jamie and I had only been courting for a few months. My mother was truly putting the cart before the horse.
As usual, she ignored me. “How dreadful, that there’s been a grimoire stolen. Some of those are so expensive. I remember some of the books you bought when you were a student, Henri, and they were so pricey.”
“Yes, this one is practically priceless, as it’s the only one of its kind.” The contents of the book were gruesome, but no one could argue its value. “At any rate, we’re trying to determine if anything else was stolen today.”
“If you’re working, you can’t stop to chat,” she said with complete understanding. “But do come to dinner tonight, tell us how things progress. I’m invested now.”
I gave Jamie a quick askance glance and got a nod in return. “We’ll be there.”
Jamie lifted the bag in her arm and asked, “Can we trouble you to take our purchases with you? I don’t want to haul mine about for hours, and Henri’s paranoid about his being snatched.”
I couldn’t exactly argue that point. I rather was.
Rupert held out a hand for mine. “What did you find?”
“You remember the book of botany Grandpapa had? The rare, hand-illustrated one?”
“Oh, yes, you were fascinated with it even as a child. And mad when we sold it.” His eyes flashed down to the bag in his hand. “You found another one?”
“I did, thankfully.”
“Well, that is remarkable.” Ophelia tipped her head to look inside. “Oh, and it has the box, too. I’m happy for you, Henri, I know you’ve wanted that book for a long time. I do feel bad we sold it. We didn’t think you’d want it.”
“I was a child when you sold it. It’s not like you knew I would become a magician later in life.” I tried to be forgiving about it, and it was easier now that I had gained another copy. “But if you could safeguard this one, I’ll collect it when we come to dinner tonight.”
“Absolutely, we can.” Ophelia looked down at the creature sprawled in her arms. “Clint, do you want to go with them or us?”
Clint looked honestly torn, but in the end his curiosity and desire to work won out. He readied himself to spring back into Jamie’s arms.
“Work time.”
“Ah. Then I’ll see you later tonight, as well.” My mother good-naturedly handed him back over.
We parted, and I waited until my parents were well out of earshot before I bent a look on Clint. “And since when, might I ask, has my mother become Grandma?”
Clint blinked at me, the picture of innocence itself. “She’s not?”
That did not at all answer my question.
Jamie snorted in amusement. “I feel like a conspiracy has been brewing behind our backs. Phil, did Ophelia tell you to call her Grandma, too?”
Phil was more trustworthy and forthright about the matter. He gave a nod, tail flicking a bit. “Did. When you and Henri start dating, she said so.”
Of course she had.
Jamie, fortunately, found this situation amusing instead of embarrassing, unlike myself. “I see. Henri, you’re tomato red. Need an icepack for that blush?”
I groaned and found myself unable to meet her eyes. I did not appreciate the position this discussion had put me in. “I do apologize for my mother.”
“Naw, don’t. I’m actually flattered. She really likes me, and I take this as a sign that I’ll be very welcome if I ever do join the family.” She nudged me playfully on the shoulder. “So, ease up.”
It was an excellent perspective. I was glad she saw it that way. I think she knew, too, that I had never seriously courted a woman before her. My parents were relieved to see I had found someone I enjoyed, someone I potentially wanted to share my life with. They’d feared I’d slide into permanent bachelorhood.
I shook the embarrassment off like a dog shedding water. “Alright. Well, let’s get back to work. We have possible thefts to uncover.”
“I’m torn about this,” Jamie stated even as she fell into step with me. “Do I want more thefts or not?”
“More thefts mean more possible data.” I shifted Phil to rest more comfortably on my shoulder. His light weight was barely discernible there, and he liked the view from his high perch. “But it also means more crimes to investigate.”
“Mixed bag.” Jamie made a face. “Not that we get a choice, either way. Well, onwards and upwards, I guess.”
We made the rounds, but no one reported any other thefts. Eventually, we all met back at the lemonade stand for much needed refreshment. Jamie treated us all. The Felixes were sprawled over various laps, absolutely done in after the hours of walking, talking, and general investigation. Or, at least, that was their story.
Jamie flipped open her notebook, ready to jot down anything of interest, and looked at her three students arrayed in front of her. “What did you learn?”
Gerring answered her readily. “Very few booksellers here carry grimoires. We encountered three others, and they all had run-of-the-mill grimoires, in their own words. Most of them were academy textbooks, in fact.”
I wasn’t surprised. This faire didn’t specialize in rare books, after all. Truly powerful grimoires rarely hit the open market. They tended to be hoarded or sold at auction, not at a book faire.
“Of the book vendors we spoke to,” Niamh picked up smoothly, “only two others reported a theft. Both stolen books were rare but not insanely expensive. We wrote those down, as well as their worth, and the victims’ contact information. They weren’t sure how or when the thefts occurred, both men saying they turned their back for a moment and the book was gone.”
Jamie nodded, her hand flying as she wrote all of this down. In her own language, of course. Velars was still not as quick or easy as her native English.
“It’s a common tactic, apparently. Books are easy to disguise under a jacket. Alright, those tw
o thefts might be unrelated, but we’ll investigate them, as well. Nothing else?”
Foster shook his head. “No. That was all we found. The two booksellers were right glad someone was showing an interest and were quick to give us all the info.”
“I bet.” She tapped the end of her pencil against the table in a quick staccato. “Alright. So that leaves the question, is this our same thief? Was he capitalizing on opportune moments? Are the thefts unconnected and we’re looking at someone who’s targeting that series of books in particular? Ahh, so many questions without answers.”
I could tell that only Gerring had an inkling of what to do next. I decided to throw them a proverbial bone.
“I believe it will be easier to prove a negative, in this case. Why don’t you research the Reaper’s Set first? Try and determine who all has volumes of it and if they are still in possession of them. Perhaps contact brokers who might have clients interested in it. If nothing is untoward there, then this becomes more a crime of opportunity than of design.”
Foster, at least, looked relieved to be given a direction. “I think that’s far easier, sir.”
“Let’s divide and conquer a bit,” Jamie suggested. “Henri’s got friends all over, we’ll put out feelers and see if anyone’s got part of this series in a private collection. Gerring, check police reports. I know the cops near here aren’t taking book thefts seriously, but maybe someone wrote something down. Check, too, if any signs of rogue magic have been reported. An unprotected grimoire can wreak havoc, so maybe someone’s spied something. We can reconvene tomorrow afternoon and compare notes.”
“And for today?” Niamh inquired.
“Today was my day off, and it’s mostly gone. I think we can call it quits. We’ve got base information and a good lead for tomorrow. Let’s quit while we’re ahead.” Jamie shifted Clint off her lap as she rose, putting him over her shoulder, which the Felix was quite amenable with.
We all followed suit, and I accepted Tasha from Foster. We made plans to reconvene at the police station, then went our separate ways. I walked with Jamie out of the faire, carrying my bag of other purchases as we went. We had indulged in some shopping while asking questions. Why not? Buying things was the easiest way to open a vendor’s mouth, and we figured we might as well gain some pleasure from this day. It did make for a heavy load, however. I had, perhaps, indulged too much.
Grimoires and Where to Find Them Page 3