Free The Christie Curse by Victoria Abbott

nothing
     like confidence.
    Even so, I waved it away and managed to look bored. That was on the outside. Inside
     I was screaming, “That’s a lot of loot!” It wouldn’t take many books like that to
     fund the next stage of my education. But I had to keep my mind on task. “I don’t know.
     I’m in the mood for something different.”
    “Like what?”
    “Not sure. My daddy has a lot of these, so they might as well be mine. I’m looking
     for something more unusual, something different. I can’t describe it, but I’m in the
     mood for something…theatrical. A statement piece, perhaps.”
    “And your price range?”
    “I want something that appeals to me. It’s not about money, really, is it?” And it
     definitely wasn’t about
my
money, not that I had any. I needed to make an impact. I knew for sure that these
     people talk. They whisper. They gossip. They deal in innuendo and rumor. In fact,
     I was beginning to suspect that Vera and poor dead Alex had fallen for this very trap.
    I wanted to get some tongues wagging. And my uncles had taught me to always walk away
     leaving them wanting more.
    “Money’s not an issue. I might be back,” I said, drifting toward the aisle, trying
     not to smile at the forlorn-puppy look that had settled on his old-dog face.
    He followed. “Is there a way to reach you if I find something of interest?”
    “I suppose,” I said, with just the hint of a yawn.
    He said, “You never know when I might find something worthy of your collection.”
    I sighed and pulled out my newly minted business cards. Works of art if I do say so
     myself. It’s amazing what you can do if your relatives have the right equipment. I
     left him staring at it, pondering the gilt-embossed seal on the top center of the
     card. An Uncle Mick special. Gorgeous and devoid of any useful information except
     for my name and cell phone number.
    I resumed my drifting about, knowing that I had his interest. So many delicious objects,
     so close, so tantalizing. This research was fun, and I was getting paid.
    At each booth I tried a variation on my patter, dropping hints about something different
     and perhaps dramatic. I wanted to get some talk going in this community, and nothing
     gets people talking more than money and misinformation. I made sure that no one knew
     that Vera Van Alst was puppet master.
    A half hour later, I had checked out a number of published plays. One of the dealers
     had a nice line of Samuel French publications.
    I let myself be enchanted by some Beatrix Potter, including
The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck
, at eight hundred dollars, and some vintage
Rolling Stone
magazines. There was a treasure trove of
Life
magazines. I loved the stuff from the fifties and sixties, like the moon landing
     and Beatlemania and above all, the fashions.
    Toward the end of the second row of booths, I came across the Cozy Corpse, the second
     mystery specialty dealer. There was no sign of the seller. Given the level of book
     lust in the room, it seemed unwise to leave all those delicious collectibles just
     screaming “steal me.” I picked up a pristine copy of Minette Walters’s
The Ice House
. I wondered if Vera owned a copy. I didn’t remember seeing any Walters in the collection,
     but with twenty thousand books, it was too huge to check out with a quick visit, and
     I hadn’t really spent much time on the mezzanine. She certainly had a lot of Sayers
     and the Cozy Corpse had some lovely versions,although nothing as grand as
The Nine Tailors
first back at Nevermore. There was, however, a fairly new copy of
The Mousetrap and Other Plays
. I decided I did need that. It would be a great way to get a sense of how the plays
     read. In short, a big help. If I could buy it. I glanced around again, but still no
     dealer. I decided to come back for a chat in a few minutes.
    The best maps in the place were in the booth directly behind Nevermore, and I made
     a point of concealing my interest in the mystery