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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

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