Classified As Murder

“Looks like I’m heading over to your house,” Kanesha said. “Your new boarder wants to talk to me. Says he has some information for me.” She regarded me, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes, he did mention talking to you over dinner,” I said. I kept my expression bland.

“Yeah, he sure did,” Sean said.

Kanesha stared at both of us for a moment. “Good evening, gentlemen. I’ll probably see you tomorrow.”

“Good night,” I said, and Sean echoed my words.

Kanesha offered a curt nod as she left.

Sean and I turned back to our work.

“Next entry,” I said as I picked up the book. “William Alexander Percy’s Lanterns on the Levee. Knopf, 1941. Fine in dust jacket. Signed on the title page.”

“It’s here,” Sean said as he pulled it off the shelf. He opened it to examine it further. After a moment he nodded. “Present and accounted for.” He slipped the book back into place.

So it went for the next hour. We didn’t find any other books that had been replaced with inferior copies. Perhaps the thief had taken only the set of signed Faulkner first editions. Those alone would account for a hefty sum of money, one way or another.

But there was another item potentially worth as much as all the Faulkners put together—Poe’s Tamerlane. I had not forgotten it, though there had been plenty of distractions. Tomorrow we might know more, if Kanesha was able to get in touch with the rare book dealer.

If a copy of Tamerlane came up for auction anytime soon, there would be questions. A book like that was a definite candidate for a private sale. If the thief had any sense, he—or she—would try to find someone willing to pay for it under the table and not risk publicity of any kind. But how would the thief go about finding a private buyer? There would have to be a trail, and that’s where the FBI would come in. They had experience with thefts of this kind and would know where to start looking.

By ten o’clock Sean and I finished the second inventory book. “Two down, two to go,” I said as I pulled off my cotton gloves and stuffed them in my pants pocket. “We really have accomplished a lot, and it’s gone much faster with you here.”

“Glad I could help,” Sean said. I held out my hand for his gloves, and he passed them over. “I’ve never seen so many amazing books in one place before.” He shook his head. “This collection is awesome.”

“It certainly is.” All of a sudden I remembered the terms of Mr. Delacorte’s will. I almost went weak at the knees. “And it’s going to belong to Athena College now.”

Sean grinned. “Guess that means you can play with the books whenever you want. You being the rare book guru and all.”

“It’s an amazing gift to the college,” I said. My mind was hopping from one idea to the next, like where we would house the collection. There was no space at present in the rare book room to accommodate it. Wait till Peter Vanderkeller, the head of the Athena College library, heard about the Delacorte collection. He would be beside himself with joy.

“Come on, Dad,” Sean said, placing a gentle arm on my shoulder. “Watch where you’re going. You’re going to run into something.”

I had been so lost in thought I almost walked straight into the closed library door.

Officer Williams chuckled as he opened the door for us to exit. “Good night, gentlemen.”

We bade him good night, and I followed Sean to the front door. There was no sign of Truesdale, and I remembered belatedly that we were supposed to ring the bell for him when we were ready to leave.

“The bell,” I said, and Sean knew what I meant. He glanced about.

“Guess there isn’t one in the hall,” he said. “We could just leave, I guess. The door will probably lock behind us.”

I was tempted to follow Sean’s suggestion, but I decided that would be rude. Truesdale had made rather a point of my ringing for him when we were ready to leave. We were guests in his house, after all.

“How about if I stick my head in the kitchen and see if I can find him?” Sean said. “Point me in the right direction.”

I gestured down the left side of the grand staircase, and Sean headed off.

While I waited, I looked about me. The stairs were dimly lit, the second floor fading into the shadows as I gazed up. The house was also eerily silent. For a moment I fancied that, if I listened hard enough, I could hear whispers from long-silent voices.

Sean’s footsteps rang on the marble as he returned, and that brought me out of my reverie.

“He’s on his way,” Sean said. “I yoo-hooed when I reached the kitchen, and he popped out of some room at the back.”

Sure enough, Truesdale appeared then, and he strode past us to the front door. Sean and I turned to follow him.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Truesdale said as he opened the door. “At what time will you return tomorrow morning?”

“Nine,” I said, “if that’s not too early.”

“Not at all, Mr. Harris,” he responded.

I stared at him for a moment in the dimly lit entranceway but averted my eyes when he started to frown.

“Good night,” I said as we walked out into the cool of the evening.