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on low energy reserves.

“After we speak with the two ladies, I think I want to track down the broker,” Jamie mused aloud.

“Sasson Walcott?”

“Yes, him. Let’s stop by first thing in the morning since it’s past office hours now. I’ve got lots of questions for the man. It’s been said a few times that each individual grimoire in this set is expensive, that trying to sell the set as a whole is nearly impossible because it would have an insane price tag. So, why would a book broker try to collect the set to sell it?”

I saw where her thought process was leading. “He must have a buyer in mind if he’s going through all this trouble.”

“Right? I really want to know who. The very rich do not take the answer no well, after all. Some foul play might be mixed in with this. At the very least, I have some questions for the man. I’d also like to know if he’s the type who can’t take no for an answer.”

It was a good question and one I entertained as well. “Should we alert the palace about the thefts? I would think with the palace wards up, their volume would be the least likely to be stolen.”

“Yeah, I agree, but I’d like to know if the broker spoke to them about buying the grimoire. If he was truly assembling the full set, then he’d have talked to them as well.”

“We’ll get to a phone and start calling people next. I believe this is her house now.”

The circular drive was bracketed by two stone pillars with a modest sign attached to one, claiming: Radman Residence.

When one thought of a noblewoman’s property, certain characteristics came to mind. It was clear at a glance the Radmans did not enjoy a great deal of wealth. This was a nice enough home, a two-story limestone with beautiful gardens in the front yard. But it was more of a cottage to the wealthy, really. Not all aristocratic families managed their wealth wisely, and this was a case in point.

We stopped in front of the door, and I parked the car before taking Phil with me. Clint hopped out on his own, but Tasha chose to ride on Jamie’s arm. All three still wore their official vests proclaiming them as part of the Kingston PD. It was cute but also made for a rather strange sight.

Jamie beat me to the door and gave it a firm knock with the brass knocker. It was opened a moment later by a woman in a plain black-and-white maid service uniform.

“Detective Edwards and Dr. Davenforth to see Lady Radman,” Jamie informed her.

The maid’s expression cleared. “Ah, of course. She’s expecting you. Right this way, please. Can I take your coats?”

As ours were semi-damp from rain, I was agreeable to this. I handed my coat and hat off to her, Jamie doing the same. The foyer was beautifully done in polished hardwood. It smelled of lemon, too, indicating it had been recently polished.

The maid led us directly into what I initially thought was the sitting room. After a blink, I realized this was more a lady’s morning room, as it was appointed with delicate furniture and pastel colors. The windows making up one wall would let in a great deal of warmth and light even on a day like this. I assumed as much, since it was sunset and a soft light still filtered in.

Lady Radman sat in a chair near the sandstone fireplace, enjoying the heat coming off the embers, ensconced in several layers of shawls. She looked…aged, was the kindest way to put it. Her skin was paper thin, so much as to give her an air of translucence. Her hair was pure white and done up neatly in a bun, but her eyes were a sharp and penetrating blue.

“Detective Edwards and Dr. Davenforth to see you, ma’am,” the maid relayed with a respectful nod.

“Thank you, Mildred,” Lady Radman said. “Bring us tea, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a wave of her hand to the settee nearby, Lady Radman encouraged, “Do sit. I’m very curious as to the purpose of this visit. You said it was in regard to the Reaper’s Set?”

“Yes,” Jamie answered as she got comfortable. “We’re investigating it at the moment.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good start to this conversation. Before we begin on that, do clarify something for me, Dr. Davenforth. Are you in any way related to Ophelia Davenforth?”

I blinked, startled to hear that name coming out of her mouth. “She’s my mother. Are the two of you acquainted?”

Lady Radman’s expression lit up in nostalgic joy. “We are, in fact. I was her tutor, once, when she was but a girl. I haven’t seen her in ages. Is she doing well?”

“Very well. Aside from me, she has a daughter, too. And now a grandchild. She’s very busy in society, trying to improve things and help people as she can.”

“I’m delighted to hear it. I really should call upon her, I think. Maybe have tea and catch up.”

I encouraged her with a smile. “Please do. I think she’ll be quite happy to hear from an old friend.”

“I shall, then. I wish I’d known you were related to her when you first called and requested an interview. I would have been more cordial.” Her caution eased openly, making her more candid. “Now, what’s brought you to my doorstep? I hope the Reaper’s Set isn’t causing trouble?”

“I’m afraid it is,” I answered with a grimace. “We’ve discovered that three volumes have been recently stolen.”

Lady Radman didn’t have much color in her cheeks to begin with, but she looked faint at the idea. “NO! Whose?!”

Jamie ticked them off on her fingers. “Leor Purves, Jere Mortimer, and a book broker had his stolen at the Kingston book faire.”

She thumped her hand against the chair’s arm in outrage. “A book broker? Wind and stars, what was one of the Reaper’s Set doing with a book broker?”

“Apparently, being sold. He got it at an estate sale.”

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