Page 111 of Sinful Crimes for the Artistically Inclined
In that short time, Percy made sure he got back in Joe’s favour, leaving him charmed, entertained, perfectly placid in his expectation that Percy wasn’t about to sneak off for a secret rendezvous.
But all the while, Percy kept a close watch on the sun and the time in order to make it to the bookstore by two o’clock, because that bookstore was located a few doors down from the apartment of a woman who was about to have a very bad day.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
PERCY DROPS IN
They strolled between tall stone buildings, tourist shops and cafes, and as they did, Percy slowed his pace enough to pull Leo back from the rest of the group to explain that he had a quick murder to commit that afternoon, and that it would be helpful if Leo could distract Joe and Althea just a little.
Shortly later, the four came out on Via Spaccaforno, on the corner of which nestled a truly adorable book store. A little hard to find perhaps, but reasonably so, as it was not intended for the average wanderer looking for a bargain. The shop dealt in rare and antique editions only.
“Percy,” came a nod of welcome from the man behind the desk.
“Alessandro.” Percy nodded back and approached for a quiet discussion.
Joe scowled at the pair of them, and the group separated to look over the dusty shelves. It was a pointless exercise for three out of the four once they saw the prices, but it wasn’t long until Percy pulled something from a shelf and made his way to the glass windows at the front of the store ‘to look at it properly’.He remained there for some time, because, in fact, those windows gave a perfect view of his target’s front door.
There she was. About forty-five, short, dyed blonde hair, fairly nondescript, and worth more than she probably ever suspected. He watched her step into her building and close the door behind her.
He’d give her enough time to settle in, use the bathroom, make a cup of coffee or whatever she would do. Time to relax and let her guard down.
“Are you buying that?” Joe was by his arm.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said Percy, glueing his eyes back to the book. And it was beautiful. It was an 1871 edition ofFrankenstein. It was small, gilt with gold leaf, and illustrated in gothic wood-cut prints reminiscent of Gustave Doré. The scent had had more than one hundred years to develop, and as Joe turned the object over in his hands, he had a glimmer of insight into Percy’s aesthetic weakness. It was its own small but breathtaking artwork.
Then he saw the price.
Joe was careful to not make it into an issue, but he couldn’t help commenting, “Is that… Is that eight hundred dollars?”
“Hmm?” Percy mumbled. “Is it?”
“Yes,” said Joe. “I think that converts to about eight hundred and twenty dollars.”
Percy shrugged in response and glanced out the window again.
“I didn’t know you liked Frankenstein that much.” But Joe handed the book back without complaint.
“I love it,” said Percy, thoroughly distracted but trying to appear normal. “Have you read it?”
“Once,” Joe replied, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “When I was possessed.”
That got Percy’s attention in full. “The demon made you read Frankenstein?”
“The whole thing.” Joe threw it off with a soft laugh, but Percy could see the laugh was to hide his discomfort.
Percy shifted a shoulder against him as they both leaned back against a bookcase. “What did he think of it?”
“He liked it,” said Joe. “But I don’t think he picked up on the feminist subtext.”
Percy, studying his partner subtly, wondered if there was a slight, telltale flush to Joe’s cheeks. Had Joe come to that conclusion by himself? Or had he been discussing the book with Percy’s sexy brother, who also happened to be a literature professor, who Joe happened to have a crush on, and who had also been possessed by the same demon? “How do so many people miss the feminist subtext?”
“I don’t know,” Joe replied with a shake of his head, showing no obvious signs of suffering under an unrequited passion. “It’s very powerful.”
“Hmm,” Percy slightly agreed. “Then you enjoyed it?”
“I did. It was a nice sort of respite, actually. He was just gearing up to make me kill everyone, so… I don’t know. I found a sort of solace there.”
“Sounds like literature might have served you better than Catholicism,” Percy joked.
