“What were the books?”
“Oz books. Westfall stumbled over them in a garage sale. Thirty-two Oz books for a dollar apiece. Most of the time when you see those they’re in poor condition. These were very fine, beautiful copies.”
“Were they firsts?”
“Only a few were. None of the Frank Baum titles were, but there were a couple of Ruth Plumley Thompson firsts and the one Jack Snow. The main thing about them was the condition. Half of them still had dust jackets. All the color plates were fresh and unscuffed, even the plates on the covers.”
“You got any of ‘em left?”
“Oh no. They didn’t last the month.”
“Nice little strike for both of you, then. What did you pay him?”
He looked offended and tried not to answer.
“I’d really like to know that,” I insisted.
“I prefer keeping my finances private.”
“You’d have every right to, if the man hadn’t been murdered.”
He hedged. “I don’t remember exactly.”
“Did you pay him in cash?”
“Not for something that big.”
“Then you wrote a check. Which means you’ve got a record of it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do I have to talk to you about this?”
I didn’t say anything.
“It’s just that I don’t want people knowing my business. Most of the time I pay more money per book than anyone in town. But you never want people knowing exactly what you’re doing.”
“This is a homicide investigation,” I said. “I’m not gonna take out a billboard and plaster it with evidence.”
“I just don’t see how a transaction that we did a year ago can have anything to do with evidence. But if you promise me you’ll keep it private, I’ll tell you. I gave him seven hundred.”
“You have the cancelled check?”
“At home, yes. I can produce it if necessary.”
“I’ll let you know. How did the books price out?”
“I’m not sure exactly. Julian?”
“Twenty-two hundred dollars,” Lambert said.
“So you paid him a little less than one-third,” I said.
“Which was fair, under the circumstances,” Goddard said. “
He had thirty-two dollars in it.”
“Which shouldn’t matter. That is very salable stuff.”
“Yes it is.”
“All right,” I said with a little sigh. “You’re right, it probably doesn’t matter anyway, but if it does I’ll ask you for that check. Now you say he was in here a couple of weeks ago. What happened?”
“Like I told you, he had a couple of books. One was a good book, but the condition wasn’t there.”
“So you bought nothing from him?”
“That’s right.”
“And that’s the last time you saw him.”
“That’s the last time I saw him.”
Something unfinished hung in the air. It took me a moment to realize what it was. Lambert, who had been busily engaged writing book descriptions on index cards, had looked up and caught his boss’s eye.
“That is right, isn’t it, Julian?”
“He did come in once since then,” Lambert said. “You weren’t here, and it was a busy morning, like today. He was only here for a few minutes. It was unusual because he didn’t do anything. He didn’t look at any of our books and he didn’t have anything to sell.”
“When was this?” Goddard said.
“Recent. No more than a week.” Lambert closed his eyes and went into deep thought. “I think it may’ve been Thursday.”
“What went on?” I said.
“Nothing. He just came in to see Roland. He said he had a deal cooking and he wanted to see Roland.”
“Was that his exact language?”
“Just like that,” Lambert said. “He had a big deal cooking and he wanted to see if Roland was interested.”
Roland was far more annoyed than interested. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” he said.
“I was busy that morning; I didn’t have time to talk to the man. Then I just forgot about it. I didn’t think it was anything that would set the world on fire. You know how these guys are. Everything’s important. Everything’s a big deal.”
“It’s not like you to forget something like that,” Goddard said.
“I should etch it in stone every time one of these characters opens his mouth? I was busy. I was running the bookstore. I assumed if it was important he’d be back. Then I forgot about it.”
“If you guys don’t mind,” I said, “I’d like to get back to my questions. You can grumble at each other all day after I’m gone.” I flipped a page in my notebook. “Have either of you got any idea what Bobby would be doing with Rita Mc-Kinley?”
Goddard just stared. Lambert laughed out loud.
“Who told you that?” Goddard said.
“Everybody.”
“Well, it’s the first time I’ve heard it.”
I looked at Lambert. “How about you?”
His laugh had been cut off in the middle of a ha-ha, and his face had begun to turn red. He had busied himself with a book and was pretending to be somewhere else. That’s a sure sign with a guy like Lambert that he knows something more—something he’d rather not tell.
“Don’t fall all over yourself answering the question,” I said. “It’s just that a man has been murdered, and I’m supposed to make some kind of effort to find out who did it.”
He looked up defiantly. “All right, I just this minute remembered. When he walked out that day, he was kind of angry. He had been waiting for Roland for more than an hour, and I finally said I didn’t know how much longer it would be. I hat’s the day you went to get license plates for your new car,” he said to Goddard. “How can you ever tell in advance how long that’s going to take?”
“I was there three hours,” Goddard said.
“That would make it… what?” I said. “You thought it was Thursday.”
“It was Thursday,” Goddard said.
The day before the murder.
“So what happened?” I said, looking at Lambert.
“Suddenly Westfall gets impatient. He stalks over to the door like he’s going to leave. But before he does, he turns and says to me, ‘I guess Rita McKinley would be more interested in what I have to sell.’ And he stomped out.”
Goddard shook his head. “This just gets worse all the time. How could you forget something like that?”
“I told you,” Lambert said. “The store was a madhouse that day. I can’t buy, sell, and be a secretary all at once.”
“Let’s get back on the point,” I said. “Did Bobby say, or even hint, what he might have to sell?”
“No, and like I told you, he wasn’t carrying anything with him.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“No,” Lambert said.
We looked at each other for a moment.
“You’ve got to remember one thing,” Lambert said. “You’ve got to consider the source. How many times have these guys come in thinking they’ve found a thousand-dollar book and it turns out to be nothing? I don’t consider it my first line of business to keep up with people like Westfall. Especially when we’re doing seven hundred in real business in the space of an hour.”