“Right, average in every way, except murder, apparently,” Inspector Pierce said. “This picture is ten years old. Can you imagine him with ten more years?”
“Not really. What happened? He’s a killer?”
“Yes. Look up the stories, look up more pictures. I’d like you to keep aware, and keep a look out for someone who might look like him. Run the other way if you see him, and then call me. Do not approach him, no matter what. In fact, stay away from all of them.”
I nodded, and didn’t tell him I was going over to see Dr. Eban just as soon as he left.
“All right. I want one of those scalpels. Will you get it for me?”
“Of course.”
He picked up the chair again and resumed walking back into the bookshop.
I looked around one more time before I followed him. There was nothing out of place. The flowers were a bittersweet reminder of the tragedy that had occurred, but the infrequently walked through close was not very notable, considering that according to Bridget Carr it was covering up old witch bones. It seemed like there should be more to it, but it was one of the plainest closes I’d seen in Edinburgh.
Nevertheless, I reminded myself, women may have been killed and then buried there as alleged witches, and a terrible murder had just occurred there. The close may have looked plain enough, but the feeling in the air was anything but.
I shivered and followed Inspector Pierce inside. He took the scalpel and left.
FIFTEEN
I didn’t always make the best decisions. I knew this, but as I knocked softly on the door I took a deep breath and told myself it would all be okay. My concerns had nothing to do with meeting Dr. Eban in his office. There was plenty of foot traffic in the building today, and I’d leave the door open. I’d set something else in motion, and no matter that I already regretted doing it, there was no turning back now.
“Come in,” Dr. Eban said.
I pushed through.
“Oh! I know you,” he said after he stood and looked at me with thoughtful consideration.
“Yes, from the pub Friday night.” I set the book, back in the sleeve, on my side of his desk and extended my hand. “Delaney Nichols. I’m sorry to bother you so soon after such a tragedy for the medical school, but my boss is very interested in understanding these books’ value, and after meeting you, I thought you’d be the perfect appraiser. I ran into your wife and she confirmed my idea.”
He shook my hand slowly, his eyes angling with more than curiosity. “I see. I’m not an appraiser, though; you do understand that, don’t you?”
“Of course.” I waved it off. “But you’re a medical professional, the first one I’ve met here in town on a personal level … and Dr. Carson said you know your books.”
He nodded. “That’s right: Kansas, in the States.” He smiled as if the pieces had come together in an appealing way. But then he frowned. “Hang on. Mallory was killed near the bookshop where you work? Meg didn’t say … I…”
“Yes, she was killed near there. I’m not sure your wife made the connection either after I told her where I worked.” I wasn’t sure what else to say.
He lifted his eyebrows, and I wondered if he was trying to tell me that his wife wouldn’t have missed the connection. But all he said was, “All right.”
“We’ve given full access to the police, and they’ve cleared the shop.” I didn’t want to sound unsympathetic, but I also wanted to divert Dr. Eban away from thinking that someone who worked there might have had something to do with the murder.
If he knew about the article in the Renegade Scot I didn’t want to give him time to remember it. I forged on, “My timing is insensitive. If you’d like for me to come back another day … I’m sorry about Mallory, but my boss really would like me to find out more about these books. I … well, I heard some books were stolen from the university, maybe from the medical school, recently I think. My boss heard that too. We thought you might know if that was real or just a rumor. I guess I’m also making sure these aren’t the stolen items. You know, before we get the police involved. If we have to, I mean.” It was all improvised, but not too far from the truth.
It was difficult to interpret what was going on behind Dr. Eban’s bright, intelligent eyes. No matter that I liked him, I couldn’t deny that he was odd in a way I still couldn’t pinpoint, smart beyond ways I could imagine. I’d yet to see his macabre side, but I would have liked to. I couldn’t help but speculate that he didn’t think like the rest of us normal, not-genius-type people did.
Finally, he said, “Have a seat, and let me see what you’ve brought.”
I left the door open, and he didn’t ask me to shut it.
“Sure. I only brought one, but we do have the whole set.”
His eyes widened as I pulled the book out of the sleeve and scooted it in his direction.
“May I touch it?” he said.
“Only if you don’t have chocolate on your hands.”
He didn’t smile, but he did check his hands. “They look clean.” He held them out for me to inspect.
I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. Of course, please look through it. It isn’t fragile enough to be destroyed with a careful look-through.”
He was slow and meticulous, though there was a moment as he turned a page that I thought I saw expectation, followed by confirmation.
“Have you seen this book before?” I asked.
“Not this one specifically, but I have looked through other copies. We have a couple in the library. This copy is magnificent, though. Pristine.”
I was silent as he fell under the book’s spell again, and I resisted checking my
