Schemers: A Nameless Detective Novel (Nameless Detective Novels) by Bill Pronzini Read Free Book Online Page B

of every subgenre. Many are signed and inscribed. Six of those that were stolen are of that rarity.”
    “ The Maltese Falcon, Red Harvest, The Big Sleep, Fer-de-Lance, The Postman Always Rings Twice, and The Roman Hat Mystery .”
    “Correct. Very good.”
    He led me to one section of shelves, pointed to a gap in the row of Hammett titles where the missing books had rested. “The Falcon is the most valuable because it was inscribed to a fellow Black Mask writer and mystery novelist, George Harmon Coxe. I’m sure you know his name.”
    I admitted that I’d read quite a few of Coxe’s Flashgun Casey pulp stories.
    “It’s one of only two such association copies known,” Pollexfen said, “the other being inscribed to another Black Mask writer, Frederick Nebel. I paid sixty thousand dollars for it twenty years ago. It’s worth three to four times that amount in today’s collecting market. One-of-a-kind volume.”
    Some of his collector’s zeal gave way to melancholy as
he pointed out the empty places belonging to the Doyle, Christie, Stout, Cain, and Queen titles. “ Red Harvest, Roman Hat, Fer-de-Lance, and Postman were inscribed to private individuals, so they’re not quite as valuable as the Falcon . Nor are the Doyle and Christie. But all are high five-figure items and virtually irreplaceable because of their rarity, the inscriptions and signatures, and the fact that they were all in near fine to fine condition. The 1892 Newnes first edition of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes is the best copy any dealer or collector of my acquaintance has ever seen. As a collector yourself you can imagine how upset I was to find them missing.”
    “According to the insurance company report, you have no idea how they were taken or who took them.”
    His mouth quirked wryly. “A man I know suggested the Borrowers.”
    “The what?”
    “Characters in a series of fantasy novels by Mary Norton. A secret race of tiny folk, descendants of the folkloric Little People, who ‘borrow’ things from humans. When something goes missing from inside your home and you can’t figure out what happened to it, blame the Borrowers. That was Julian’s smart-ass explanation.”
    “Who would Julian be?”
    “Julian Iverson. A fellow bibliophile with a sometimes inappropriate sense of humor.”
    “You told him about the theft?”
    “I needed a sympathetic ear, and there’s none in this household.”
    “So you don’t consider him a possible suspect?”
    “Julian? My God, no. He’s a collector, yes, but his tastes in literature differ greatly from mine. Fine bindings and children’s books are his specialty. He has no interest in or knowledge of detective fiction.”
    “Would he know how valuable the missing titles are?”
    “He would, but he’s an old friend.”
    “Wealthy? Half a million dollars is a lot of money.”
    “His net worth is around four million,” Pollexfen said. “Believe me, he’s not the person responsible for this outrage.”
    “Have you told anyone else about the theft? Anyone outside this house?”
    “Great Western, of course. My attorneys. A dozen or so other collectors and high-end booksellers—to alert them to be on the lookout for the missing titles. If anyone tries to sell the Falcon or any of the others to a reputable source, I’ll be notified immediately.”
    “The operative word being ‘reputable.’ There must be collectors and sellers who’d buy prized items no questions asked.”
    “Too damn many,” Pollexfen said. “That’s my greatest fear. That one or all of these treasures will simply disappear into private hands.”
    “You mentioned your brother-in-law. Why do you think he might be responsible?”
    “He has the scruples of a Washington lobbyist. Always in need of money for his schemes and his women and doesn’t care how he gets it.”
    “What does he do for a living?”
    Pollexfen laughed cynically. “He calls himself a promoter,
but what he is, is a leech and a gigolo. He