Grimoires and Where to Find Them

by Raconteur, Honor

  “The palace grimoire from the Reaper’s Set is missing.”

  I stared at the pad, a woman waiting on the punch line. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear out of my left eye like I used to. Say that again?”

  “You heard me. I’ve even done seeking spells. The grimoire is not on the palace grounds. The staff is not sure when it disappeared, either.”

  “You’re telling me someone stole a priceless grimoire and got it off the palace grounds without tripping the wards?”

  “I feel like getting drunk before answering that question.”

  What I would give for vodka at this moment. I took a deep breath, steadied myself, resisted the urge to bash my head against the desk—it would only break the desk—and let the breath out again.

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll be waiting at the East Gate to let you in. Gibson’s with me.”

  “Okay, cool.” I hung up and groaned loud and long, my soul leaving my body. Today was a really good day to be a missing person. Shame I hadn’t realized that when crawling out of bed this morning.

  Foster was agitated, shifting from one foot to the other. “Does that mean the palace wards are on the fritz again?”

  “God, I hope not. Henri’s going to have kittens when he hears this. Foster, change of plans. You and Gerring need to babysit the site here. Call in help from the station to get things boxed up and ready to move. Niamh is still trying to track down Walcott, and I don’t want this place left empty until she’s back, okay?”

  “We won’t leave without her,” he swore. “I’ll tell Gerring what’s going on. We can manage this, Detective. Go, and keep us updated.”

  “You bet.” I looked at Phil, who had been sitting on the desk like a cat at leisure. “Stay or go?”

  “Go,” he answered decisively even as he leapt lightly up onto my shoulder.

  I wasn’t surprised by this and hoped he’d be handy. I gathered up my bag and was out the door, hailing the first taxi I saw once I hit the street. I gave the driver directions, then sat back, pulling out my pad.

  Oh man, Henri was really going to be upset about this. I might need to cook him curry tonight and offer a good foot rub so he doesn’t combust from frustration. The palace wards had driven him insane trying to keep Eddy Jameson out. Hearing they’ve been somehow compromised again would not go over well.

  And this on top of dangerous grimoires. This might just qualify as a terrible, awful, no good, very bad day.

  I called his pad, letting it ring with an anticipatory wince on my face.

  “Jamie,” he greeted with a sigh, and he sounded done in already. “I was just about to call. The containment lockers over here are full, but Jere’s already on his way. He’s bringing a temporary box to house the grimoire. I’m just waiting on him.”

  Annnd of course he’s stuck over there for the foreseeable future. “Yikes, well at least Jere can help. Are you going to be at the station for a while, then?”

  He could probably hear in my voice that something was up. His response was cautious, a man bracing himself for impact. “Yes? An hour at least. Why?”

  “Fun story.”

  “Oh, gods. I hate it when you start with those two words.”

  “Probably because it’s never a fun story. Sherard just called. The palace’s grimoire from the Reaper’s Set is missing.”

  He didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure if he was even breathing.

  “Henri. Hellloooo~ Henri? You still with me?” Ladies, gents, and gentlefolk, I think I just broke him.

  He started swearing in language so vile it would make a sailor blush.

  Oh, wow. He really was mad. I winced and let him get it all out.

  Only when he stopped, panting hard, did I venture, “Feel a little better?”

  “Not at all. Pardon my language. Is Seaton absolutely certain the grimoire was stolen and not misplaced?”

  “He said he did seeking spells, and it’s nowhere on the palace grounds.”

  “That answers that. Alright. As soon as Jere arrives, I’ll situate him here and meet you at the palace. I assume you’re on the way there?”

  “I am. I left Foster and Gerring in charge at the broker’s office with orders to pack up the files and move them to the PD. Sherard and Gibson are waiting for me at the palace gate.”

  “Keep me updated. I’ll join you as soon as I am able. But you realize what this means, don’t you? We’ve been assuming the thief is a common sort, not one with magic. Not with the way he’s been doing the thefts. But if he’s managed to circumvent the palace wards….”

  “Yeah. He might be craftier than we’ve been giving him credit for.”

  Even as I said that, though, I had a thought. Eddy Jameson hadn’t been gifted with magic, just with observational skills and sneakiness. He’d never attempted to take something off palace grounds. But I knew he regularly tested the defenses of the palace, and he’d not reported anything amiss.

  It might behoove me to call the kid in, see if he could manage to take something off the palace grounds without tripping the wards. If anyone could manage it—and I was willing to bet he could—it might give us an idea of how the thief had done it.

  I shelved the idea for now as a possibility. I wanted to get my hands and eyes on the situation before making any decisions.

  I did know one thing, though. Regina was not going to be a happy camper. No wonder Sherard had called in Gibson for backup. I would have, too.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Okay. I’ll leave word at the gate to let you in. See you soon.” I hung up, letting the pad drop into my lap. Man, what a day. What was it going to do for an encore, set the city on fire?

  Phil touched a delicate little paw to my thigh, his face concerned. “Okay?”

  “Not really, bud. This ties into something that happened before you were born. We had an issue with the palace wards, and Henri about broke his brain trying to figure out what was going on. He and Sherard are going to be super stressed about this. So, give them both lots of cuddles, okay?”

  He gave a nod, a touch too serious. “I help, too.”

  “Trust me, on this, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

  The taxi pulled in close to the curb. I leaned forward, paying the driver before gathering up bag and cat, and hopping lightly out. I was barely on the sidewalk when Gibson appeared out of thin air and gave me a bear hug.

  “Thank all magic,” he said against my ear. “Maybe you can keep Seaton from tearing his hair out.”

  “I’ll certainly try. He’d look funny bald. Is he that close to a meltdown?”

  “I think he’s actually past the tipping point. I can’t say I’m much better.” Gibson pulled back, then chivied me into motion. “Come on, come on, we’ve got a lot of upset people inside.”

  That actually sounded like a really good reason not to enter. Just saying. Not my idea of a good time.

  Unfortunately, it was my job to figure out what had gone wrong and try to right it. I sighed and went in.

  It was kind of a sad state of affairs that the guards on duty recognized me and just handed me a badge before they waved me through. I gave a quick hello even as Gibson pulled me past them. As we walked, Gibson started catching me up.

  “We locked down the library, and they’re pulling records of when the book was last on loan. I understand that unless it’s within the keeping of a royal mage, the grimoire is not allowed outside the library walls.”

  “Well, that’s good to know. So, who all has access to the palace library?”

  “Thing is, it’s on the tour route, so the public tramps through there about five times a day, if only through the main floor.”

  “Giiiiiibs,” I whined, not at all exaggerating my frustration. “I don’t want the whole of Kingston on my suspect list!”

  “You think I’m overjoyed about this?” It was true he didn’t look happy. The man walked like he had glass shards in his shoes. “And our good Que
en is livid. Expect to update her daily from now on.”

  “Great.” I really should have stopped for a drink on the way to the palace. Maybe brought alcohol with me. I had a feeling we’d all want to be drunk before the day was out.

  It wasn’t a long walk to the library, basically along a sidewalk and across a courtyard with a fountain—which wasn’t inspiring, as it meant our thief had had a quick escape route. Sherard was pacing in front of the entrance, waiting on me, and lit up briefly when he saw us approach. Then he went back to scowling.

  “Before you ask,” he said with righteous indignation, “I checked the wards. They’re fully operational and not reporting any problems.”

  “Hello to you, too. I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.”

  He ignored my sarcasm. “Where’s Davenforth?”

  “Dealing with a dismantled grimoire at the station. He’ll be along as soon as he has it safely under wraps.” Seeing the alarm on their faces, I hastily added, “Not a grimoire from the Reaper’s Set. Breathe. Different grimoire we found while investigating the case.”

  “Thank heavens,” Sherard blurted. “You about scared me into an early grave.”

  “Sorry, sorry. Anyway, I told him what’s going on here. He’ll be here as quickly as he can manage. For now, let’s—” I caught movement from the corner of my eye and paused, turning to see who was approaching like the Winter Soldier with a mad-on.

  Ah.

  Upset queen. Of course she was coming down to see for herself what was going on. Regina was not the sort to sit back and watch it play out.

  She looked a little mussed, as if she’d been playing a sport or something before getting the news. She wasn’t in her usual skirt suit, but in loose pants and a light, breezy shirt. I greeted her with a quick bow.

  “Jamie,” she acknowledged, her mouth in a flat, unamused line. “I’m very disturbed by the report I just received. I’m glad you’re already on the case. Where is your partner?”

  “Handling another emergency at the station, but he’ll be here shortly.”

  “I trust all of you can figure out what happened and retrieve my stolen property. I do not think any of us will rest easy until that has happened.”

  You know, that could be the politest royal command I’d ever been on the receiving end of. Either way, only one way to respond. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I know you’re barely on the scene, so you haven’t had a chance to look anything over yet. But, have you any thoughts on this?”

  Fortunately, I did. “I’ve got two at the moment. One, there was a particular book broker trying to assemble the whole Reaper’s Set in order to sell it. When I went to interview him today, he ran for it.”

  Her eyebrows shot up into her dark hair. “Was he the thief, then?”

  “He was also slicing up grimoires and selling them on the black market, so I can’t jump to conclusions about why he ran. But the fact that he had a potential buyer—or buyers, not clear on that—for this set inclines me to think someone wanted the whole shebang. And rich people don’t take no for an answer very well. I’ve got his office files; we’ll comb through them. I might get lucky and find a suspect.”

  She inclined her head thoughtfully, eyes narrowed. “Yes, that does seem like a good lead. What’s your second thought?”

  “I’m pulling Eddy Jameson into this. Your resident thief might be able to figure out how a book was taken off the palace grounds without tripping the wards. This might be one of those moments where it takes a thief to catch a thief.”

  Her expression was approving. “An excellent idea. It’s true—he’d be best suited for this line of inquiry. Please do call for him.”

  “Is he still working in exchange for books?”

  “I understand he’s asked for monetary compensation sometimes, so I actually put him on payroll this past month.”

  “Ahh.” It made sense. His family wasn’t well off, so of course he’d need money more than books. “Then I can call him in for this without worrying about how to pay him.”

  “You can, indeed.” She glanced at the library with a very unhappy set to her mouth. “I won’t keep you. I want to stay updated on your findings.”

  “Will do.”

  Gibson said, “I’ll call Eddy in.”

  “Thanks.” I rolled my head around, loosening up my neck some. Or, trying to. I might need a hot bath later. The stress was definitely getting to me. “Okay. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  I was in a perfectly foul mood by the time I reached the palace gate. I could not believe I was on these grounds again for an issue that had nearly broken my sanity the first time. And no matter how I wracked my poor brain, I couldn’t think of a single way for someone to steal a powerful grimoire and walk off with it. The wards should have reacted to a single piece of paper being stolen from these grounds, much less a magical artifact!

  Kingsman Marshall met me at the East Gate, gave me a grimace that might be accused of being a smile, and nodded in greeting. He was impeccably dressed, as usual, every strand of his brunette hair in place, and yet he still managed to give the impression of being extremely harried.

  “Doctor. I’m relieved you came so quickly. I’ll escort you in.”

  “Thank you, Kingsman.” No point in biting his head off. He wasn’t responsible for the anger coursing through my veins.

  “Henri!”

  I looked up and around, automatically responding to that light, child-like voice. Ah, there he was. Phil looked quite proud in his police vest. He waved to me from the top of the palace wall with a paw, tail lashing in agitation behind him.

  “Phil. Checking the perimeter?”

  “Looking for sniffies,” he confirmed with a nod.

  “Excellent.” I was relieved to see him up there. If Jamie hadn’t already set him on the task, I would have. “Do continue. We’ll be in the library.”

  He gave another nod before darting forward along the wall.

  I highly doubted he’d discover anything, but the Felixes seemed to delight in proving me wrong. Sometimes, our most vital clues came from them. I was quite content to let him scour the grounds and see if anything could be overturned.

  The palace library was not far from the gates, and I could see it was cordoned off with multiple guards standing at every door, keeping people out. It was a grand old building, one of the oldest on the grounds. Standing at three stories tall, it was made of limestone and granite, and it sparkled a little in the sun. I could normally appreciate the beauty of the old building. Right now, I felt like blowing it sky high.

  Hardly conducive to the investigative spirit, I know.

  We walked past the guards and through a side entrance I’d never braved before. Marshall didn’t hesitate to take me past the main foyer, with its grand, open balcony that went up three stories. We walked past the dark, polished wood counter and through to the back room where the work was done.

  The door was open to the librarians’ file room. I could hear Jamie’s voice, the steady, patient tone she always used when making inquiries of a witness.

  “And it’s always noted on these slips when the book is brought out?”

  “Oh, yes. Part of it is housekeeping—we need to know who has which book. Some people here are notorious for forgetting they’ve checked a book out, and it will sit on their desk for months before we track them down. But it’s also a matter of finances. We have to prove there’s enough demand to maintain the staff of librarians we have. The grimoires, especially, we keep careful track of because they’re dangerous if left unattended.”

  I breached the doorway and paused just inside to get my bearings. It was indeed the file room, the cabinets stretching from floor to ceiling, their narrow drawers closed for the most part, although one was partially open. An army of women clustered around one lone table, all of them looking upset and ready to strangle the thief themselves. Jamie stood tall, her notebook in hand as she jotted things down.

  And then there was Seaton, who slunk
near the wall, looking as if the world was intent on bludgeoning him about the head today. I knew the feeling well, as I was quite convinced the universe had it out for me too.

  Jamie heard my entrance and half-turned, shooting me a sympathetic smile. “Hey. Ladies, this is my partner, Dr. Henri Davenforth.”

  I exchanged general hellos with everyone, shaking a few hands.

  The head librarian—Adams, according to the badge pinned to her shirt pocket—held onto my hand a moment longer, urging me silently to meet her eyes.

  “Doctor, I just informed your partner that the last record we have of the grimoire being checked out was nigh on three months ago. It’s one of the books we rotate through on display so the general public has a chance to look at the rare books we keep here. According to our rotation schedule, it was out on display a week after it was checked out, and then supposedly put back on the shelves the next week.”

  “Supposedly?” I hate that word. It means it didn’t actually happen.

  Her thin mouth compressed to the point that it looked as if her lips had disappeared into her pale face altogether.

  “The Reaper’s Set doesn’t look like anything remarkable on the outside: a dark leather binding with cream pages. There’s nothing distinguishable about it until you open it up. Someone switched it out for another book that looks quite similar. We didn’t discover it until RM Seaton came and requested to see the grimoire.”

  Ah. Supposedly. “But the book’s dummy, did that come from here? Or was it something they brought in?”

  “Detective Edwards asked the same question. It was one of ours, in fact. A book that’s normally kept on the shelf near the display case.”

  I met Jamie’s eyes quickly, and her expression spoke volumes. This looked more like a spontaneous crime than one that had been plotted out. Using another library book in order to dupe the librarians was a bit risky. Bringing in a forged copy would have been the safer bet.

  Of course, that assumption begged the question: How in the wide green world did a thief spontaneously steal something and get it past the wards?

  It’s not a rhetorical question. I wanted an answer.