Page 63 of The Bookshop of Forbidden Books

“Shortly after your release, Salinas needs information to win an important case. You said yourself he’d stop at nothing to further his career. So he goes back to his snitch. But this time, maybe the request is riskier, and the informant says no. Salinas threatens to expose them – to reveal they were the one who turned you in. The informer panics and gets rid of him for good.”

“Sure,” Mitch said. He’d had enough of the whole thing.

Anna glanced at her watch, then ordered him upstairs to get dressed – in the tone a mother uses when her child’s late for school.

“Sorry,” she added, more gently. “It’s just that I have a meeting I can’t miss.”

Mitch saw no reason to argue. Fifteen minutes later, they left Anna’s house – he in the same clothes he’d worn for two days, she in a short green thrift-shop dress that fit as if it had been made for her.

At a red light, she turned to him.

“You’re right about one thing – I can’t neglect my restaurant. And you can’t neglect your bookshop. I wouldn’t be surprised if that inspector’s keeping tabs on us both. We have to live normally, at least on the surface.”

She suggested that whenever one of the “suspects” came by, he should ask the kind of questions that might move their investigation forward.

“They’re my customers, not suspects,” Mitch protested.

The van pulled up in front of the bookshop.

“One day you’re going to regret underestimating me,” Anna said calmly. She kissed him and waited for him to get out. But he lingered.

“What kind of questions?”

“Take an interest in their lives. That always pays off. Most people love talking about themselves.”

“Not me. I hate it.”

“You’re different, Mitch. Now go on – get out. I can’t be late for my meeting. We’ll find the guilty one and clear your name. Believe me.”

Mitch had never met anyone so fiercely determined not to give in. As the van drove off, he wondered what Anna had meant by different. He’d often felt out of step with the world, but for the first time the thought filled him with a faint, inexplicable pride.

Instead of going into the shop, he walked a few blocks to a department store. His nights were unpredictable, and he badly needed some backup clothes. Standing in front of the dressing-room mirror, he wondered what a woman like Anna could possibly find attractive about him. The only compliment he’d ever got on his looks was about his smile – which, all things considered, wasn’t so bad. And since falling for Anna, he’d been smiling a lot more.

* * *

Verner came into the bookshop at eleven o’clock, his expression hesitant. Mitch waited, letting him approach the counter in his own time.

“You have to admit, I’ve got terrible luck,” the music teacher said.

“I’m really sorry. Getting arrested wasn’t exactly on my schedule.”

“I’m just glad you’ve been released. I never doubted for a second it was a mistake. It’s borderline harassment, if you ask me.”

“Has Madame Ateltow recovered from the shock?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Verner groaned, “and the reason I’m here.”

“I understand,” Mitch said.

Verner shook his head. “I doubt it. You see, she found the whole thing wildly romantic. Said it was thrilling – no, exhilarating. She even added she hadn’t felt so, ah, titillated in ages. Titillated! Do you see how bad this is?”

Mitch did not, in fact, see the problem. Verner didn’t elaborate.

“Well, at least my trials and tribulations provided the two of you with a memorable time together,” Mitch said dryly. “Have you ever been in trouble with the police?” he added after a moment, sure Anna would be proud of him for going in with such a blunt question.

“I’m too narrow-minded to break the law,” Verner replied, with a hint of regret.

“What about Madame Ateltow?”