Page 101 of A Spell of Midlife Mayhem

‘Yes. No one’s brought in anything of the description you gave me.’

‘Okay. I thought I’d check, anyway. Could you do me a huge favour? It might have turned up somewhere else, but I don’t know who to ask.’

‘You’d like me to call around a few places?’

How does he always know what I’m about to say? ‘That would be great.’

‘There’s no need to call around. We have the Witchnet for that.’

Of course. I’d forgotten about that. So, too, it seemed, had Aunt Ruth. Or maybe she was distracted by other issues—like her impending death. The date she’d declared would be her last was only three months away.

‘Can you show me the Witchnet, please, Herbert?’

‘No problem. It’s about time to close up the shop, anyway. Then you and I can go to the office at the back.’

He locked the door and led the way to a small but comfortable office with weird knick-knacks hanging on the walls. Maybe no one wanted to buy them, and Herbert didn’t want them taking up room in the shop, yet couldn’t bear to dispose of them.

Herbert pulled up a chair for me and sat at another behind the desk. I peered at his computer as he searched for old witchy books for sale.

To my astonishment, there were pages and pages of them. ‘I had no idea there’d be so many.’

‘There’s a thriving second-hand market. Some of the oldest books, or those containing powerful magic, go for massive amounts.’

‘So I see.’ My eyes watered at some of the prices being asked.

He turned the keyboard and mouse over to me. ‘Scroll through and see if you can find the book you’re looking for.’

I started searching. Why hadn’t I thought of this earlier? Why hadn’t I asked for help earlier? It was another foible—or flaw—of mine that I needed to change. People are often willing to help when they are asked—I was—as long as they’re not being taken advantage of.

‘Any luck?’ Herbert asked. ‘Can I get you a cup of tea while you’re searching?’

‘Oh, yes, please.’

I scrolled to the end. Nothing. I sat back.

‘No good?’ Herbert put the tea down next to the laptop. I took a sip. It was white, no sugar, exactly how I liked it. More mind reading?

‘It’s not here, but I expected that. The thief may be holding on to it until things settle down before selling it.’

‘Or they want it for themselves,’ Herbert suggested.

‘Is there a shop you know of with a reputation of being... dodgy?’

‘Dodgy? Dishonest, you mean?’

‘Yes. The kind of place that would buy stolen books like that witch’s spell book without asking any questions about where they came from.’

‘Why do you want to know that?’

‘Because that’s the most likely place the thief would go.’

‘And it’s the least likely place from which you’ll get any assistance.’

Shit. Herbert was right. My entire plan relied on figuring out where the book might end up and intervening before it gets there.

‘And don’t look at me. I’m not going to pretend I’m in the market for stolen books, so don’t suggest it.’

‘Of course not. Thanks. This has been useful. If nothing else, it tells me the murderer most likely still has the stolen book.’

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