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ripped it apart.
    The force of the action somehow penetrated the alcohol in Edward’s brain. Suddenly he seemed to realize that there was much more at stake than getting this young woman into bed. “I’ve got your number. You figure you can do better for yourself with those Agatha Christies you have in the office. Worth a fucking fortune, you said. Few spots of coffee didn’t harm them much. You’re aiming to take them with you when the shop closes down and cash in big time.”
    Tanya felt the blood drain from her face. She’d been hoping her agitated words the other day had passed unnoticed. This was dangerous, desperately dangerous. It wasn’t quite true because the best books weren’t stained. They were safe in her apartment. Even so, this stupid, drink-crazed man could put a stop to everything.
    She still had ammunition and her reaction was to use it. “You don’t know who I am. I can bring down you and your thieving friends. I’m Gritty Bologna’s daughter, Teresa. That money in the safe isn’t yours to spend. We spent years tracking you to this place. I took the job with Robert to find out where the banknotes are and now I know.”
    â€œYou’re Teresa Bologna?” he said in amazement. “You were in school at the time of the heist.”
    â€œI’m family, and family doesn’t give up.”
    He moved fast for a drunk. Fear and rage mingled in his face. He came at her like a bull.
    He was blocking her route to the door and the en suite would be a trap. Her only option was to use the fire escape. She turned and hit the panic bar and the door swung open. She grabbed the rail and swung left just as Edward charged through.
    No one’s movements are reliable after heavy drinking. Edward pitched forward, failed to stop, hit the rail hard with his hips and couldn’t stop his torso from tipping him over. He may have screamed. Tanya (or Teresa) didn’t remember. But the sickening thud of the body hitting the concrete forty feet below would stay in her memory forever.
    The autopsy revealed substantial alcohol in Edward’s blood. No one could say what he had been doing above the bookshop in the dead owner’s bedroom. Those who might have thrown some light had all left Poketown overnight and were not heard of again. So an open verdict was returned at the inquest.
    In the absence of a will from Robert Ripple, Precious Finds was duly put under the control of an administrator and escheated to the state of Pennsylvania. It ceased trading as a bookshop and was converted into apartments.
    About a year later, a married couple set up home on a remote Scottish island. He was thought to be an ex-hippy, she an American. They called themselves Mr. and Mrs. English and they helped the home tourist industry by forever taking holidays in different towns.
    Copies of several rare Agatha Christie first editions in dust jackets enlivened the book market in the years that followed, changing hands for huge sums. Their provenance was described as uncertain, but they were certainly genuine.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
    Copyright © 2014 by Peter Lovesey
    Cover design by Neil Alexander Heacox
    978-1-4532-0635-5
    Published in 2014 by MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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New York, NY 10014
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