Remaindered Read Free Page A

us.”
    George, becoming the diplomat, said, “Come on, old friend, it’s no hardship chatting up Tanya. You can’t keep your eyes off her ample backside.”
    Myrtle said at once. “Cut that out, George.” She turned to Edward. “Get her out of the office on some pretext and have a nose around.”
    â€œIt’s not as if you’re robbing the Bank of England,” George said.
    â€œOkay, I’ll see what I can do,” Edward said without much grace, and then turned to Myrtle. “And how will you get your hands dirty?”
    â€œMe? I’m going to choose the perfect place to plant the thing.”
    Almost overnight, Tanya had been transformed from bookshop assistant to manager of Robert’s estate as well as his shop. It wasn’t her choice, but there was no one else to step into the breach. At least she continued to be employed. She decided she would carry on until someone in authority instructed her to stop. She would allow the shop to remain open and operate on a cash only basis, buying no new stock and keeping accurate accounts. She couldn’t touch the bank account, but there was money left in the till and there were occasional sales.
    Meanwhile she did her best to get some order out of the chaos that had been Robert’s office. He had given up on the filing system years ago. She spent days sorting through papers, getting up to date with correspondence and informing clients what had happened. Someone at some point would have to make an inventory of the stock. What a task that would be. Nothing was on computer, not even the accounts. He had still been using tear-out receipt books with carbon sheets.
    She glanced across the room at the carton of Agatha Christies that had been the death of poor Robert. After his body had been taken away she had repaired the carton with sticky tape, replaced the loose books and slid the heavy load alongside the filing cabinet. She really ought to shelve them in the mystery section in the next room. But then she wasn’t certain how to price them. Robert had paid five hundred for them, so they weren’t cheap editions. The copy of the invoice was in one of the boxes. The titles weren’t listed there. It simply read: Agatha Christie novels as agreed.
    She went over and picked up The Mysterious Affair at Styles , the author’s first novel, obviously in good condition and still in its dust jacket. A first edition would be worth a lot, but she told herself this must be a second printing or a facsimile. It was easy to be fooled into thinking you’d found a gem. According to the spine the publisher was the Bodley Head, so this copy had been published in England. Yet when she looked inside at the publication details and the 1921 date, she couldn’t see any evidence that the book was anything except a genuine first edition. It had the smell of an old book, yet it was as clean as if it had not been handled much.
    Was it possible?
    She was still learning the business, but her heart beat a little faster. Robert himself had once told her that early Agatha Christies in jackets were notoriously rare because booksellers in the past were in the habit of stripping the books of their paper coverings at the point of sale to display the cloth bindings.
    Among the reference works lining the office back wall were some that listed auction prices. She took one down, thumbed through to the right page, and saw that a 1921 Bodley Head first edition without its original dust jacket had sold last year for just over ten thousand dollars. No one seemed to have auctioned a copy in its jacket in the past fifty years.
    She handled the book with more respect and looked again at the page with the date. This had to be a genuine first edition.
    â€œOh my God!” she said aloud.
    No wonder Robert had snapped up the collection. This volume alone was worth many times the price he had paid for them all. He was sharp enough to spot a bargain,