“Which will annoy him excessively but I will enjoy.” He rose and followed her up the stairs. “Well now, cousin, I believe you need my expertise?” Ramsey said when they entered the room Gray was in.
“I do, which I am uncomfortable with.” Gray was still crouched before the box. “Do you carry your lock picks with you?”
“Of course, I never leave home without them. One never knows when I will be trussed in chains and locked in an underground cell.”
“As if we would be that lucky,” Gray muttered. “Get down here.”
While they discussed the box, Ellen wandered around the room. She touched surfaces and searched for anything that might be a clue. Leaving the room, she walked into the next and found only a table and chairs. Then she went downstairs and looked around again inside the shop for anything that had been missed, hoping she’d get another vision.
When the door opened, she realized she had not relocked it after Ramsey entered.
“I’m sorry, but the bookshop is closed,” Ellen told the couple who entered.
They were well-dressed. The man was perhaps slightly older, but she did not think they were that different in age to her and Leo.
“We are here to speak with Mr. Nicholson. I am Mr. Brownly, and this is my sister, Miss Brownly,” the man said.
“Are you a friend of his?” Ellen wasn’t about to tell just anyone of George’s death, but she also didn’t want to break it to a friend in a callous manner.
“George was a collector of books like me, and he often procured rare editions on my behalf when I found one I wanted.”
She nodded, wondering what to do now.
“Good day,” Gray said from the doorway. “How may we help you?”
“This is Mr. and Miss Brownly. George sometimes bought books on Mr. Brownly’s behalf,” Ellen said, relieved he was here.
“I am Detective Fletcher from Scotland Yard,” Gray said. “I’m afraid to tell you that Mr. Nicholson has passed away.”
Miss Brownly looked upset about that. Mr. Brownly frowned.
“How did it happen?” he asked.
“Someone murdered him in this bookshop,” Gray said.
Ellen was surprised he’d given them that information.
“Dear Lord,” Miss Brownly whispered. “Poor George.”
“Can I ask why you are here today? Was it just a social call, or were you browsing?” Gray asked.
“Mr. Nicholson had secured a book I have been searching for, for some time,” the man said.
Ellen watched his sister shoot him a shocked look and then the expression schooled into a calm facade.
“We have searched for many years, and finally, George located it. I gave him the money, and then he notified me he had the book in his possession. We were traveling to Bath, but obviously overjoyed. I only just received the missive today as I returned this morning. I rushed over immediately.”
“Can I ask what the book was, Mr. Brownly?” Gray asked.
“It is very rare, so I doubt you have heard of it, Detective Fletcher. It is called theBlackstead Bestiary.”
Not by a flicker of an eyelash did Ellen show she had heard the title before. But she felt it in her belly as it clenched. Just this morning she’d had a vision which she believed included that book and now someone else was mentioning it.
“May we look for it, Detective Fletcher?” Mr. Brownly asked.
“I’m afraid that is not possible,” Gray said.
“I paid a great deal of money for it. I insist that if it is here, it is to be handed directly to me.” Mr. Brownly was getting angry.
