Book Club Read Free Page B

1545.”
    Dockerty whistled. “Anything that old’s got to be worth something.”
    â€œNot necessarily. Age is not a factor in evaluating a book; if it were, every ancient family Bible in North America would be worth thousands; but no one ever throws them away so they’re common as clothespins.
    â€œNor is rarity, although this particular item certainly qualifies. I doubt more than ten copies were issued, handset in wooden type for the court of Philip II of Spain. Condition is of ten a factor, but not in this case: Missing its covers, and even significant pages from the text, would hardly affect its value. Demand, gentlemen; that thing that drives capitalism tips the balance in this circumstance. I know of ten billionaires who would bid energetically against one another to lay hold of L’Exploration in any condition and, from what I see here, this copy is complete, and as close to pristine as you’re ever likely to find.”
    â€œThis is a murder investigation, not a meeting of your book club. Come to the point this side of when they invented gunpowder.”
    â€œActually, the Conquistadors were well-equipped in that—”
    â€œAvery!”
    â€œSorry. If I were the murdering kind, I would certainly give it proper consideration in this case. This book was written by Hernando Cortez, conqueror of Mexico. Considering the paucity of copies and the stature of the individuals to whom it was presented, it’s more than likely Cortez delivered them in person. He would have held this book in his hands.”
    Dockerty slid his Stetson to the back of his balding head.
    â€œI don’t see it myself, but I can understand where some folks might covet it at whatever the cost. Give me a list of those folks and I’m on the way.”
    â€œI’ll get right on it. Verne Platt knows his way around the computer at the library. He can Goggle—”
    â€œGoogle,” corrected Andy.
    â€œHe can Google the title and find out who’s most interested. This could make your career, Chief. The suspects must have access to millions in cash.”
    â€œI like my career as it is. Nice town, decent wages, four acres I can grow sunflowers and entertain my grandchildren, when we have ’em. Be a nicer place with one less murderer in it.”
    â€œYou’re a good man, Chief.”
    â€œYou sell him this book?”
    â€œI wish I had; I could have retired, if I hadn’t already from the police department. He must have found it on the Net, despite his distrust of it, or on one of his buying trips. I’m surprised he didn’t share the discovery with me. Half the fun of collecting is rubbing other collectors’ noses in your best acquisitions.”
    â€œMaybe he’d just got it.”
    â€œWhich may narrow the field further, to others who were interested at the same time. How about the autopsy?”
    â€œBusted skull, extensive brain damage, death close to instant as I guess it ever comes. Doc Simms has the Latin, for the record. Leather fibers in the cavity—left by the weapon, most like; if Fister was wearing a leather cap at the time, it hasn’t turned up.”
    â€œI doubt Lloyd owned anything as casual as a cap. His taste ran to three-piece suits and a freshly blocked felt fedora. Sap?”
    â€œI hate to think it. It means the killer came prepared.”
    â€œI never put it aside. Lloyd was sane as a carpenter’s level, but he’d do anything to guard his collection.”
    â€œIncluding fight to the death?”
    â€œIncluding that. Love is the strongest motive of all.”
    â€œWell, it’s a big book and he was killed in broad daylight. Maybe someone saw whoever it was lugging it away.”
    â€œAt almost a thousand pages, each of them thick parchment, it would be heavy as well. Those clasps are solid iron, to reinforce the binding.” He pointed at the thick horizontal ridges on the top and bottom of