Proof of Murder (Beyond the Page Bookstore Mystery #4) - Lauren Elliott Page 0,61

earlier in the evening. It makes me wonder if that’s the reason Charlotte was working that late and stayed on after Robert left. She’d discovered the replacements, and did this”—she waved her hand over the table—“to see if any others were replicas.”

“You know what has stumped me since the start of this?” He moved to her side.

“What’s that?”

“Why would someone go to the trouble of replacing the rare books with fakes anyway? Why didn’t they just steal them and be done with it?”

“Well, I have a couple of theories about that, but with me being the number-one suspect”—she gave him a sidelong glance and teasing grin—“you probably don’t want to hear them.”

Jerry glanced at the door. “Yeah, I do. I have questions, too, and the chief sure doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, then try this on for size. Because the replica books aren’t sold anywhere in or around Greyborne Harbor, and the only bookstore I know that carries this new reproduction collection is in Boston, that means the books—”

“Would have been pre-purchased.”

“Exactly, and I didn’t discover the set or the original Beeton’s copy of A Study in Scarlet until Wednesday. As far as I know, Charlotte wasn’t aware of their existence until then, either, because I think she was genuinely shocked when I told her what I found in the old bookcase.”

“And she died that night. The same night the books were replaced.” Jerry stroked his stubbled chin.

“Yes, so even though the books in the barrister’s case weren’t appraised until Wednesday, someone who had a good understanding of book appraisals had already been through the bookcase and knew of their existence before I or she did. Charlotte couldn’t have pulled this off.” Jerry nodded slowly, seemingly following her thought process. “The police need to focus on the staff and find out what their backgrounds are. They’re the only ones I can think of who would have had access to the library earlier in the week.”

“What makes you think it was earlier in the week and not before that?”

“I overheard a conversation between Charlotte and Blake, and she distinctly said that Blake’s crew had only discovered the barrister’s bookcase this week in a storage space in the attic.”

“That means it was sitting in here unopened for almost a week before you worked on it.”

Addie nodded.

“And you had no access to this room before Wednesday?”

She shook her head.

“Then, realistically, the first person to come to mind would be Robert. Wouldn’t he have the background to appraise the books and learn their value?”

“You’re right, but he never left the house that night and was upstairs sleeping.” She snapped her fingers. “Unless . . . the books are still stashed away somewhere in the house and the thief is waiting until this all settles down for him or whoever to safely get them out?”

“Interesting.” He fidgeted with the handcuffs on his belt... “And you’re convinced Charlotte’s death wasn’t a coincidence?”

She shook her head again.

“It still doesn’t answer my question about why someone would swap the books.”

Addie puffed out a breath. “Whoever it was didn’t count on someone like me discovering the ruse. Remember, I stepped in at the last minute to help. My being here wasn’t planned. Whoever pulled this off might have hoped that the auction would be canceled because of the discovery of the body, and then no one would be the wiser to the missing books. To the untrained eye, it would appear that they were still here, and a theft investigation wouldn’t have been launched.”

“Maybe . . .” Jerry said, drawing out the word as he slowly scanned the room and then focused on the table.

“What are you thinking?”

“I know Simon’s preliminary report shows she died of a heart attack, but . . . what if . . . ?”

“What if someone killed Charlotte to stop the auction from taking place?”

“Yeah.”

“But why?” Addie strolled around the perimeter of the room, taking in every detail. “We must be missing something important here. Is this room exactly the way it was when you took your photos?”

Jerry moved over to the desk and looked at the books on the floor by the desk. His gaze rested on the fireplace, and he took a step toward it. “Not exactly.” He bent down, resting on his haunches.

Addie crouched down next to him. “What do you see?”

He pointed. “Those track marks in the soot from the fireplace. See how they’ve fanned out? It looks like something’s been dragged across here in front of the hearth.

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