“Can you think of anybody else Bobby might’ve sold to regularly?”
“I think he was in with Roland Goddard. Don’t tell Goddard I sent you, though. He used to be my partner.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Oh, yeah. But don’t bring it up. We don’t get along now.”
“How come?”
“You don’t really want to get into that. It’s ancient history.”
“Humor me a little.”
“When we were kids we both worked for Harley Bishop. Then we moved on to the Book Emporium, you remember, that big place that used to be on Fifteenth, across from Public Service? They closed it up and Goddard and I bought out the stock and used it to start our first store together. It didn’t work out, that’s all. We’ve got different aims in life, different tastes. At the bottom of it, we just didn’t like each other. Sometimes you’ve got to go into business with somebody to find out how little you like each other. So we flipped a coin to see who would buy the other out. Goddard won. Or lost, depending on how you look at it.“
“That’s a pretty classy shop he’s got.”
“Yeah, but so what? Everything in life has a trade-off. He’s got a great shop and a super location in Cherry Creek, probably makes two hundred grand a year. But the overhead’s got to be unreal. Me, I was out of the business for a couple of years after the big coin flip, but I’m back again. I’ve got what I want.”
“Can you think of anybody else I should see?”
“As a matter of fact, yeah. Go talk to Rita McKinley.”
“Who’s that?”
He raised his eyebrow. “You’re a bookman in this town and you’ve never heard of Rita McKinley?”
“I guess I never did.”
“Well, Officer Janeway, you’ve got a treat in store for you.”
“Who’s Rita McKinley?”
“She’s got a closed shop in Evergreen. Appointment only, that kind of place. Operates out of her house.”
“What’s she got to do with Bobby?”
“I don’t know, except when he was here he dropped a piece of paper with her name on it.”
“You still got it?”
“Sure. I’ve been waiting for him to come in again so I could give it back to him.” He reached into the cash drawer and took out a small sheet of notepaper. In pencil, someone had written the name and a phone number.
I looked at Harkness. “You ever met the lady?”
‘She was in here once, a year or two ago. A real looker, young and pretty and sharp as a new brass tack. She knows books, brother. She knows as much as I do, and I’m talking about books in my field. You know what she did? Bought two copies of
“How long has she been up there?”
“A few years, I guess. I’ve never seen her place. She’s goddamned intimidating if you want to know the truth. You don’t just call her up because you’re out for a drive some Sunday and you want to scout her shelves. At least I don’t.”
“How does she sell her books?”
“She’s got clients who come in from out of town. Does mail order. And deals in very expensive stuff.”
I wrote her name down.
“It doesn’t sound logical, does it?” I said. “Her and Bobby?”
Harkness shrugged. “That’s all I can tell you.”
I believed him for the moment, and left.
There were two more dealers on Book Row. One was a specialist in collectible paperbacks, who kept odd hours. His store was closed. Near the end of the block was a junk shop called A-l Books, owned by Clyde Fix. I had never dealt with Fix, for two reasons: I have never seen a book in his store that I wanted, and his hatred for cops was well known and documented. He and Jackie Newton might make a great pair that way, but that was the only way. While Jackie was carving out land deals, Clyde Fix was struggling to stay alive. Where Jackie had brains, Clyde Fix had only animal cunning. It was a safe bet that Clyde Fix had never heard of a Lamborghini: he clattered around town in a red ‘62 Ford that always seemed two miles from the scrap heap. He was in his forties, with thinning hair and a gaunt, consumptive profile. He had owned bookstores all over Denver in the last fifteen years, all of them dumps like this one. Ruby had known him for years. Before he had discovered books, Ruby said, Clyde Fix had been a seller of graveyard plots; before that, he had sold shoes. With books, he had found a way of keeping body and soul
