Angels and crooks

by Nuredhel

Bard and Thran are getting used to their lives as married but they do still have their jobs and it makes things very interesting at times...AU story, sequel to Beast.

22. The book of fire

Angels and crooks: The book of fire

Juliet was hurrying in through the entrance, she was already late and she hated to disappoint Mr Boden, he was one of the nicest people she knew. She hung her coat on the rack behind the door and walked into the huge room, it was both a bookstore and a sort of collection and she frowned. It was very quiet there and normally she would have been greeted by the sound of the old gramophone in the corner. Mr Boden was a relic from times long past, his impeccable manners and strange and old fashioned lifestyle was unique to say the least. The man had never married, and his one true love was his books. He would have fit in to an 18th century costume drama, without any problems.

She walked forth, the rows of books had a peculiar smell and she had come to love it, when she started working there she found the bookstore sinister but not anymore. She had learned to appreciate the enormous amount of work which was put into the collection and the massive treasure of knowledge this place represented. She stopped, had a sudden feeling of unease, Mr Boden ought to have greeted her by now, with his pipe and his friendly gaze. She was very fond of this job, being a house keeper can at times be a challenge but Mr Boden never asked much of her. She came once a week and washed the floors, dusted and cleaned his clothes. He didn't need much for sure, his entire life was spent with the books.

She took a deep breath. "Mr Boden?"

She kept her voice low, it was a sign of respect and she heard nothing. The room was a bit colder than normal and she got a bad feeling. Was there a window left open somewhere? The elderly gentleman would never allow that for the atmosphere within the shop had to be perfect at all times, no moisture and a stable temperature. And he had arthritis too so he never opened any of the windows. She had no idea of how old Mr Boden was, he could be anywhere from in his seventies to in his nineties, it was very hard to tell.

She had to go upstairs to his private rooms, she preferred to meet him downstairs but she had a feeling that something was wrong. She walked up the stairs, feeling insecure. "Mr Boden? It is me, Juliet?"

Nothing, not a sound. Mr Boden lived completely alone, he didn't even have a pet and she wondered how anyone could cope with such a lonely existence. Apparently he did just fine. She stopped, there was a faint smell in the air and she swallowed hard, she knew it. It was blood, and something which had to be scorched flesh. Had the old man had an accident in the kitchen? She forced down her feeling of unease and rushed forth, the kitchen was small and could only room one person, he wasn't there. But the smell got stronger and she felt nauseous, something was most definitely off. The bedroom was also small, the door was closed and she hesitated before she pushed it open, very gently. The smell which hit her was pungent and terrible and she almost fell backwards, stifling a scream. What she saw could only be described as something out of a gothic horror movie.

…

Thran and Bard were rather bored, it was in the middle of winter and the cold meant that very little happened. The only interesting thing of late was the discovery of a dead man in a pile of snow outside of city hall. It turned out to be an accident, the guy was homeless and had laid down to rest on a bench, the snow plow had come by and buried him in the snow, he had been in there for quite a while. It had been a swift job and not too challenging at all.

Bard was trying to teach himself how to speak Spanish and Thran was busy with the after work of a case he had been assigned to. A person who had driven a car into a crowd and claimed that he had suffered a blackout, but Thran had discovered that he in fact had multiple personalities and one of them was a raging white supremacist who had wanted to kill as many people as possible. The question was if the man could be punished or not since the culprit was just an aspect of his psyche. The station was almost in a state of hibernation, Thor was visiting some other precinct to create a deal to make the different police precincts cooperate better. When he was away the second in command was a man who was a newbie there, but he had been leading a police station before and everybody liked him. He was rather refreshing for he never got stuck in old routines, he tried to view things from several angles before he made a decision. Mr Wolf was also a funny person and he never hesitated giving praise where praise was due.

Bard was swearing, he was too old for this, you cannot teach an old dog new tricks but he would be damned before he just gave up. He was ready to take a break when Mr Wolf exited the office, he waved his hand. "Thran, Bard, we have a murder, downtown"

Bard got up so fast his chair flipped over and Thran looked very relieved. "On it, what is it this time?"

Mr Wolf shrugged. "An elderly man, owner of a bookstore. It is rather…gory. Judith is on her way"

Bard swallowed hard, gory? Now that wasn't too pleasing to the ears, he didn't want one of those cases where it was hard to tell if the deceased had been human or something else. He grasped his coat and they ran down to the garage, this could be anything really. He jumped into the car and they drove to the address with haste. The traffic was slow but not too bad and they arrived just after a couple of officers. The store was placed in a back street, it was very anonymous and Bard frowned. "I thought such bookstores only exist within gothic horror movies?"

The sign was written with a font you had to be rather artistic to understand but it said "Boden antique books"

Thran tilted his head. "Oh, they exist, but I don't think this was a store which made much money"

The door was open, an officer was busy closing off the street, he was rolling out some police tape and had an expression on his face which told the two that he was bored right out of his skull. Bard entered, the smell of old books was intense and the store was surprisingly large, there had to be thousands of books there. A small plump woman stood inside of the door, talking to one of the first responders and Bard saw that Judith's assistant stood there too, holding a bag he knew contained some equipment normal people rarely see. The first responder bowed his head to them. "She is alright, in shock but she can speak, there isn't any more for me to do here, good luck gentlemen, I fear you may need it"

Thran looked down at the woman, she was probably in her forties and rather cute, but she had been crying and she was ashen pale. "You are the one who found the deceased?"

The women nodded. "Yes, I am…the housekeeper, I come once a week to clean. My name is Juliet, Juliet Wiltington, oh god, this is horrific"

Thran nodded. "I understand, you called immediately?"

She nodded. "Yes, right away. I…I knew something wasn't right the moment I entered, Mr Boden always has this old gramophone playing, and the room was too cold"

Bard frowned. "Too cold?"

She nodded. "Yes, the books are very fragile, I checked and the heat was turned off, I don't know why though, could be that he has forgotten to pay the bills, or someone has turned it off on purpose"

Bard had read somewhere that old books indeed were something you needed to take well care of. They were often attacked by mould and what not. Thran walked up the stairs and Bard followed him after making sure that Juliet had given off her contact information. Judith was standing in the hallway, the entire house was dark, and there was only a few very faint lightbulbs there which gave about as much light as a firefly would. She shook her head. "I have heard about frugal people but damnation, this guy doesn't belong in our century, he haven't got anything in here bought within the last four decades. "

Bard took a peek past her and immediately wished that he hadn't, the boss had said it was gory, now that didn't even start to describe this. No wonder the poor housekeeper was in shock. If a horror movie director added something like this to his movies he would be out of work rather fast. "Oh…holy…"

Judith stared at him, she was wearing a hazmat suit and she was making notes, to her this was just another day on the job. "Rather unholy if you ask me"

Bard swallowed hard, the dead man had been dead for a while, that was rather obvious but you could still see that he had been tortured, by someone with a penchant for sadism of the extreme sort. "Cause of death?"

Judith shrugged. "I think I will need to take a peek at him down at the morgue before I make a definite statement but as of now I would have to say that he died of shock due to extreme pain and loss of blood."

She laid her papers down onto her box of equipment. "He was alive for a while though, and the injuries were inflicted gradually. The culprit wanted something, and wanted it badly"

Thran had been listening for a while, his eyes were narrow. "The one behind this was very determined, but so was the victim. He resisted for a long time"

Judith nodded. "Yes, stubborn old fellah, and strong. I cannot wrap my head around what they were after though, this man wasn't rich at all"

Bard frowned. "You say they?"

Judith nodded. "Yes, I think there must have been at least two persons here, call it intuition but it takes strength to do such damage to a human body, and if you are to pressure someone into speaking two are always more intimidating than one. "

Thran took a look at the few rooms, they were Spartan to say the least, and the kitchen was a sad sight. There was one fridge there, and it had to be of a model used in the sixties. It contained just some bread, milk and some already prepared meals in plastic containers. Bard grasped one of them, he stared at the label on the top. "These are from the charity down by St Nicholas chapel, they give out such meals to those in need"

Thran stared at the box. "Yes, was this Mr Boden really that poor?"

Bard shrugged. "Beats me?"

Judith raised a hand. "Gentlemen? He was very skinny, I don't think he knew what it is to indulge in anything at all."

Thran sighed. "Yes, but he was killed for a reason, we need to find it"

Bard looked bewildered. "Could he have money in the bank?"

Judith scoffed. "Not very likely, then the culprit would most likely have had to bring him to the bank physically. I doubt that this one owns something as modern as a bank card."

She made a grimace. "I would appreciate if you two got out of the way now, we need to move the body and I fear that there may be some…discharge"

Bard groaned and Thran took him by the shoulder and they walked down the stairs again. "Could it be the books?"

Thran was staring at the long shelves and Bard sighed. "I haven't got a clue, honestly. I guess that old books can be valuable?"

Thran started to walk around, staring at everything. He had a very keen sense of order, could immediately see if something was moved or removed. He was like a bloodhound and he walked back and forth through the entire bookstore. "Nothing has been removed, everything is in order"

Bard crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the rows of books. "How can anybody make a living from this?"

Thran grunted, he pushed a chair out of the way, stared at some books on the top shelf. They appeared to be very old indeed. "I guess that collectors are interested in such books?"

Bard rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, it isn't exactly gold and rubies? A book cannot bring that much income? You would need to sell some rather often to be able to make a living right?"

Thran made a grimace. "Know what? I haven't got a clue, but I know someone who does, I think I will call an expert, instinct tells me that the books are at the core of this"

Bard cocked his head. "Alright, who?"

Thran picked up his phone. He grinned. "An old friend, she is among the smartest people I have ever met"

He went outside to make the call and Bard stared at the books again, they were nothing he had any interest in at all. The entire store was creepy, nothing could convince him of anything else.

Thran returned and he was smiling. "She has agreed to come, will be here shorty. She works at the university."

Judith and her assistant came downstairs, a couple of officers had been given the honour of handling the gurney with the body bag on it, they were rather green and it was not anything strange about that, the smell was ghastly.

Thran stood by the door and his face was very calm, the eyes revealed that he was thinking hard. "This man lived for his books, he had no luxuries, barely a life at all. But the books are cared for as if they were fragile kids. Yes, a book has to be at the bottom of this, or more. "

Bard snapped his fingers. "It is a store after all, he must have a record of what he has bought and sold?"

Thran nodded. "Yes, let us check those desks over there. "

They walked over and the desks were open, they contained note books, hundreds of them. But they were carefully marked with year and month and Thran grasped the newest one and opened it. Mr Boden had been writing using an old fashioned pen, why was that no surprise? The handwriting was exquisite though, and Thran whistled between his teeth. "Robinson Crusoe, first edition, impeccable condition, sold on the fifth of this month, take a look at the price?"

Bard leaned over and looked, he had to blink. "Goddamn it, that is more than I earn in a year?! Mr Boden was loaded after all?"

Thran shook his head. "Look at the column for books bought"

Bard cursed the faint light in there. "Ah, oh crap, easy come easy go right?"

Thran nodded. "He never had money, for whatever he earned he used to buy books. But how did he come by those books?"

He started walking along the walls, staring at the floor. "He has to have some means by which to contact others, to trade inside information. "

There was a sort of closet in a dark corner, it looked very anonymous but the doors were surprisingly worn and Thran opened it. There was a computer in there, a very new model too, and it was actually active. There was a list moving across the screen, showing some sort of auction. Bard gasped. "One should think that those were thoroughbred horses, not books!"

Thran sighed. "Yes, he was murdered because of a book, or books, I am dead sure"

There was an officer at the door, making a gesture. "There is a lady here, asking for you?"

Thran grinned. "Oh yes, our expert."

He hurried over and the officer opened the door, the woman who entered was not what Bard had expected at all. She was first of all drop dead gorgeous with a figure many would have killed for and thick curly hair held back by a golden band. Her face was angular in shape and she had huge dark eyes. She had to be of mixed ethnical background and her clothes were very nice and also very formal. She grinned at Thran. "Mr Oropherson, how are you doing?"

Thran smiled. "Very well Jamanda, I wondered if you could help us a bit."

She took a quick peek at the room and she nodded, rather eagerly. "Oh yes, I think I can."

She turned to Bard. "You have to be Bard right? Jamanda Angeles, I am an expert at religious artefacts"

Bard raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

She grinned and walked over to the desk. "Yes, books are also among my interests. Many old books are of a religious nature."

Thran showed her the notebooks. "Do you see anything here worth murdering anybody for?"

She started to read, her eyes were narrow and dark and she tilted her head. "I see something strange here, this person was a collector, and the titles here reflect that. He has bought anything which is old and valuable, not specific genres or writers. "

She pointed at the shelves. "The shelves are carefully marked, he had full and total control of every book here for sure. And yet…"

She turned to the note book again, making a grimace. "Something doesn't add up"

Thran pointed toward the computer. "The only modern thing within this house, it is a sort of ongoing auction?"

She walked over and stared at the screen, then she started typing, she obviously knew what she was doing. "He was killed because of a book you think?"

Thran shrugged. "Cannot think of anything else?"

Jamanda nodded, her face was suddenly hard, almost harsh. She pointed at a list she had brought up. "These are books he has bought, but he has used an alias. They are not a part of his regular collection"

Bard felt a bit confused. "He had two collections?"

She grinned again. "Yes, one official one and one only he knew about I bet. A secret stack of books"

She pointed at the screen, tapped it with a perfectly manicured nail. "These books are not for everyone, few even know they exist"

Bard felt confused. "Really? What sort of books are we talking about? Old porn?"

She laughed. "No, books about the occult, alchemy, books forbidden by the church"

Thran made a grimace. "Such books are everywhere these days I think, witchcraft and what not?"

She rolled her eyes. "I am speaking of the real thing Thran, books which supposedly contain the very secrets to life and death, books which can grant you immense power. All is of course superstition but the books are worth their weight in diamonds"

Bard frowned. "Did he own any such books?"

Jamanda started scrolling, she stopped, pointing at a title on the screen. "Here gentlemen, I think I can bet a year of wages that this was what got him killed. It is a book some collectors would give their soul to own"

Bard stared at the screen. "The secret of the wandering heart?"

Thran looked very puzzled " Sounds like a romance novel"

Jamanda shook her head. "I don't know what you gentlemen know about the renaissance and the scientific development during those years? "

Bard had to laugh. "Next to nothing I fear"

She nodded. "Well, back then you had to be very careful, you risked ending up on the pyre if you made a claim which went against the teachings of the church. So alchemists made codes for everything, often to a degree where only they knew what it was all about"

Thran raised a hand and his face was showing some signs of light disbelief. "Do not tell me that this is about that goddamn thing they were trying to find, ah….the philosophers stone or something"

Jamanda chuckled. "As a matter of fact no, this book was written by a man very few have ever heard of, he was a chemist more than an alchemist and some say that he was centuries ahead of all others. The thing which makes this book so valuable is that only seven copies were ever made, and he did supposedly hide a secret within the book. To find it you will need all seven of them"

Bard found it fascinating, against his own will. It was really a bunch of mumbo jumbo but she did obviously know what she was talking about. " A secret?"

Thran nodded. "Yeah, a secret worth killing for?!"

She nodded. "The writer was a man with an interesting family background, one of his forefathers was a knight of the Templar order and they think that the books can show the way to the place where the treasures of the order was hidden"

Bard grunted, he found this hard to believe. "Are you kidding me? That is bullshit"

Jamanda shrugged. "Do not be too negative here, it may be something to it. But the author was a genius beyond any doubt and many believe that he did hide something within the books themselves, something which would have a tremendous value today"

Thran didn't look as if he was very convinced. "But someone has killed Mr Boden because of that book, so where is it?"

Jamanda sighed. "Not here, that is for certain. No true collector would store a book like that where it can be found by anybody. This Mr Boden has secrets gentlemen, of that I am very sure. And secrets which are deeply buried often tend to be of a less than pleasant nature"

Thran made a grimace. "Right, but let us think like police officers now. First and foremost, we need to bring that computer with us to the station, I bet Erestor can get a lot of information out of it. And we need those notebooks too"

Bard looked at the amount of note books. "I bet the tax authorities would love to take a look at these, Mr Boden must have had millions between his fingers at times!"

Thran grasped his phone. "First and foremost, let us check if the late Mr Boden had any money at all under his name"

He made a call but it was rather obvious that he didn't get the answers he wanted, he turned to the two others. "The bank cannot release this sort of information, we need to go there in person. "

Bard shrugged. "No big shock there."

Jamanda stared at the rows of books. "There is of course a chance that he has a deposit box there, we can check that when we get there. "

Bard pointed at the computer. "Can we just pick it apart and bring it with us or should we call for someone to pick it up?"

Thran made a grimace. "I do not know if it has a password protection, or if there is some sort of safety system added to it. I think it would be wise if we leave this sort of thing to the experts."

Bard nodded. "I will call the station and ask them to send one of the IT guys, Erestor will love to go through this for sure"

Jamanda tilted her head. "But there are several banks here in this city, what if Mr Boden had accounts in more than one?"

Bard opened his mouth, then he closed it again. "Know what? That is possible, if he was the careful type that is just the kind of behaviour I would anticipate."

Thran took a deep breath. "Call the station, we can start with the bank which is the nearest to this place, I don't think Mr Boden would have wanted to walk very far."

Bard made the call and they exited the building, the air of the city was just for once very fresh, at least it felt that way compared with the air inside of the bookstore. Jamanda had arrived in a taxi so she hitched a ride with the two and they drove down to the bank in silence. She was working on her phone, obviously checking something important for her face was rather serious looking.

The bank was the largest within this city and also the oldest, it had an excellent reputation and it looked impressive with a very old style façade and very elegant interior. This was a bank for those who had money, and lots of it. Thran showed his badge to the guard by the door and they had to wait for a few minutes for someone who had authority came to greet them.

It was a rather young man wearing a very nice suit and he was both curious and a bit worried, his expression was very easy to read. "Yes? You are from the police?"

Bard smiled, he didn't want the alarm the guy, he had a certain nervous aura Bard had seen before, a fear of anything disturbing the peace so to speak. This bank survived on its reputation, the competition was very sharp these days. "We are here because of the unfortunate passing of a person we do believe may have been one of your customers? Mr Boden? The book collector?"

The man blinked a few times, then a light went off within his head. "Oh, Mr Boden, he is dead?! Oh no, he is such a very sweet old man"

Thran nodded. "Yes, we wonder, did he possess a safety deposit box here? And we will need his information too, how much money he had, if anything out of the ordinary has happened to his accounts lately"

The young guy bit his lower lip. "We do not usually share this sort of information but…I know that Mr Boden had no family and he wasn't here all that often, but he left an impression one may say"

Jamanda sent the man her most charming grin. "How come?"

The bank worker melted completely. "He was so old fashioned, so polite. He was like someone time has forgotten and he was never stressed out or demanding. You ought to see some of the customers we have, they believe that the universe revolves around their very person. Mr Boden was never like that."

Thranduil smiled. "I bet, could you show us his box? And a transcript of his accounts?"

The guy nodded, took a deep breath. "Of course gentlemen, my lady, follow me"

He walked in through a door and they followed, the vault of this bank was very well guarded with all sorts of gadgets and several armed guards as well. The bank worker stopped, the row of boxes was long and also very exclusive for these were large deposit boxes, not the usual type. "Do you have the key for his box?"

Bard shook his head. "No, I am sorry, we do not"

The worker took a deep breath. "Listen, the fact that you guys has shown up tells me that he didn't die of natural causes, and I have met Mr Boden several times, I think he liked me. And two months ago he came here at a very unusual time of the day, he normally showed up around noon but that day he came the moment we opened the bank. And he was nervous, or at least, he was a bit less relaxed than usual"

Thran frowned. "Really? Did he mention why?"

The worker closed his eyes for a second. "Yes, or, he said something I didn't understand back then. He said that someone were trying to buy some rare books and that a friend of his had died, not wanting to sell"

Jamanda nodded slowly, her eyes were narrow. "Right, that makes some sense."

The worker got something out of his pocket, it was a sort of key. "We have a universal key which opens every box here, it is a safety requirement. "

He found the right box and inserted the odd looking device, the box let out a sort of whizzing sound and slid forth. Bard was almost afraid to look into it, it was more than large enough to hold a dead body. Thran looked shocked and Jamanda swallowed hard, they could see it. "Uhm…Mr Steiglar, did you see what Mr Boden put into his box?"

The worker shook his head. "No ma'am, we never peep, discretion is everything here"

Thranduil reached into the box and pulled out several handfuls of torn paper, it was all old newspapers. "But you would have noticed if he brought something large right?"

Mr Steiglar blushed slightly. "Well, yes, but he always carried a suitcase of some sorts, it was very large and it seemed to be heavy, all the time"

Jamanda sighed and Bard took a peep into the box, it was filled to the brim with the torn paper. "Could someone have gotten into this box? Someone not Mr Boden?"

Mr Steiglar shook his head vehemently. "No, that is impossible. You see, we register who enters this vault and if they try to touch another box than their own the alarm goes off. "

Thran stared at the heaps of paper. "Smart, but why this then?"

Bard nodded. "Was he losing it somehow?"

Jamanda shook her head. "No, quite the contrary."

She smiled at Mr Steigler again. "Now, please, his accounts?"

The young man nodded and had a very servile expression on his face. "Right, follow me."

He closed the box and they followed him into an office where he logged into the system. It didn't take long for him to bring up all the information they had on Mr Boden and his accounts. He had three accounts there and Thran whistled when he saw the numbers. Bard felt numb and Jamanda just gaped. "He was filthy rich?"

One of the accounts had to be a savings account, it held several millions and the two others had to be business accounts for there had been huge sums of money going in and out of them, but it had stopped, just two weeks earlier, all of a sudden.

Jamanda was staring at the screen, and Thran frowned. "What are you thinking about?"

She shrugged. "Just a feeling, he said a friend of his had died, probably another collector. And someone was trying to buy books. He was attempting at laying low, but that is very hard in that business, everybody knows everybody."

Thran grasped his phone. "We need to check if some other book collector has been murdered lately"

He sent a request to the station, Bard stared at the numbers on the screen. "For a man of such wealth he lived a very Spartan life I must say"

Jamanda grinned. "Yes, those who collect rare books rarely bother with anything else, it is an obsession."

Mr Steiglar printed out the information and Jamanda sighed. "He has to have hidden the really valuable books somewhere, and that wasn't in his home. I don't think he revealed anything, even under torture"

Bard nodded. "But where? It has to be somewhere safe, and somewhere nobody would bother to look for a priceless book?"

Thranduil was thinking. "Mr Boden was a man of routines, I think we can be very certain of that. He wasn't one to do anything out of the ordinary. He had a very strict regime of what he did and where he went. So we need to check the places he frequented, on a regular basis"

Jamanda looked thoughtful. "Yes indeed, people like him are a bit like clockwork, they do not work very well if they are forced to do things in a different order than before."

Bard stared at the papers the bank man had printed out and he was skimming through the information, he stopped and pointed at one number in particular. "This, this is money leaving his account each month, always the same amount. Rent?"

Thranduil leaned over. "No, I think he actually owned his home"

Jamanda turned to the bank man who had been standing there quietly the whole time. "This payment here, can you check where it went?"

Mr Steiglar nodded and sat down, started typing it inn. He didn't have to wait for long. "It is the account of St Nicholas chapel, downtown. Mr Boden must have made a donation each month, for years I reckon"

Thranduil nodded and his eyes were distant, the light of the office was turning his hair into a halo of silk. Bard had seen how many women were green with envy due to his hair. "He had food coming from that place. I think we can assume that he visited that place rather often then."

Jamanda smiled. "Yes, so do we visit?"

Bard sent the bank man a polite grin. "We visit, if he was there often they may know more about his books"

Mr Steiglar tried to smile but it was a very stiff smile. "Good luck gentlemen, ma'am. Get the bad guys"

Thran had to grin, a real genuine smile this time. "Will do"

They left the bank and Thran was driving, he knew how to manoeuvre the traffic and he also knew all the roads like the back of his hand. Bard wondered why the book collector would donate money to a chapel, it didn't really make sense to him.

The chapel was in one of the poorest areas of the city, it was an open chapel which never closed its doors and it let the homeless spend the night there in relative safety. The building was decrepit looking and not at all very inviting but some work had been done there and it wasn't falling apart. It just wasn't kept in ship shape. The main room wasn't large, it could perhaps have place for about a hundred people, no more. The decorations were simple but tasteful and most were of a religious nature, which of course was to expect in such a holy place. The main light source was a very large glass window, with a motif which depicted a bleeding rose. It was very beautiful and also very intricate and couldn't be all that old.

They stood there until they heard footsteps, it was an elderly man wearing a priest's collar and the man stopped and stared at them, visibly confused. Thranduil bowed his head. "I am sorry to disturb you father, but we are from the police. I am afraid that someone you know has passed away,. Mr Boden?"

The priest went pale, then he grasped for the back of one of the pews and sat down, like a sack of oats. "No, lord have mercy, not Frederick…"

Bard found the reaction a bit strong, to say the least. "Were you close?"

The priest blinked, his expression still one of horror. "Frederick was one of our patrons, or rather, our patron. He was the only one who donated money to us, we would have had to quit if he hadn't done that. We are a very small congregation"

Thranduil walked over, and sat down too. His voice was soft, almost hypnotic. "So he kept you going so to speak?"

The priest nodded, he was grasping a handkerchief from his pocked and wiped his eyes, he looked as if he was about to break down any minute. "Yes, he gave us money for the food we distribute, he even paid for our glass window. The last one got broken in a storm and the church was in a horrible state, but he paid for all repairs. He was a saint"

Thranduil frowned. "Father?"

The priest sobbed. "I am Peter, just that"

The tall blonde smiled, "Was Frederick one of your parishioners?"

Father Peter shook his head. "No, he wasn't religious, but he supported our work among the less fortunate of this city and he respected us, that is more than many so called religious people do"

Jamanda was puzzled, her gorgeous face was showing it clearly. "So he did it out of the goodness of his heart and not out of religious fervour? That is rare"

The priest sent her a sad smile. "Yes, like I said, a true saint. He even gifted us with some exquisite old bibles, they are extremely valuable and thanks to those we could actually get an insurance on the property"

Jamanda tensed up. "Really? He just gave you old bibles?"

Father Peter nodded. "Yes, they added so much value to the property that the insurance company finally agreed to insure us."

Thran stared at Bard, his eyes were narrow. "Okay, so Frederick Boden paid you each month, and came here to collect food too?"

The father smiled, a very melancholic smile. "Yes, each Tuesday, each Thursday and each Sunday, he didn't cook so he always brought some meals with him home."

Jamanda tilted her head. "Did he ever leave something here? Like a packet? Or a bag? Something of some size?"

The priest frowned. "He always carried a sort of suitcase, I never asked what it was he was carrying with him?"

Bard took a peek around the room, it was rather simple and not much was out of the ordinary. "Did he ever spend time here alone? Could he have hidden anything within the chapel?"

Father Peter looked shocked. "I cannot imagine how that would be possible, but yes, he was here alone a lot. He often just sat here to think he told me"

Bard looked at Thran, they had that peculiar feeling, that they were onto something. Jamanda beat them to it. "Is there a crypt here? Or some other hidden rooms?"

The priest was starting to look a bit confused by now but he was trying to help, they could see that. "The chapel doesn't have a crypt, no. It was built in the 1930's and you weren't allowed to dig down deep back then, burials were done on the Rivervale graveyard."

Jamanda made a grimace. "But I am sure he hid his books here somewhere, there cannot be somewhere else."

The priest was just staring, he was still crying and Bard got up, he walked around. "So no crypt, Jamanda, the list, was it long? The secret collection I mean?"

She shook her head. "No, maybe fifteen books in all?"

Bard stopped, the container used at baptisms was a true work of art, a lovely metal bowl felled into a large wooden pedestal shaped like the stem of a tree with several branches reaching up, embracing the bowl. It was very large and seemed to be extremely heavy too. Bard touched it and it wasn't wood at all, it was bronze. The priest got up too and walked over, he was smiling. "Oh, that was a gift, not from Mr Boden though, but one of the parishioners. A lady who donated all she had to this marvellous piece of art."

Jamanda stared at it. "It must be extremely heavy? Who made it?"

The priest almost caressed the edge of the bowl, his expression one of melancholy. "It is hollow, so it isn't too bad. A local artist, very famous. I do not know how much she paid for this tough"

Thran tilted his head. "A lot, believe me. I think I know who made this, he isn't cheap."

Bard bowed down, he stared at the base of the thing, there were some small wheels there, almost invisible and he gave the whole structure a gentle push. It was movable but not easily, you had to use some force to push it. Thran stared at the marvellous example of craftsmanship. "I wonder…"

He bent down too and knocked on the base, it was clearly hollow and now he started to check it, very systematically. They had a table made by this artist and it had a secret compartment, it would be just natural if this structure too had some secrets. He let his fingers glide over the metal, very gently and then he suddenly pushed, it was an indentation made to look as if a twig had fallen off and there was a small click and a rather huge part of the stem swung out on well greased bearings. There were shelves in there, three of them and they were filled with books. The priest looked as if he was flabbergasted.

Jamanda let out a small shriek and got down onto her knees, she reached in and pulled out a book. It was very old and the writing looked strange, Bard couldn't even read the title. Father Peter was staring and his eyes were the size of teacups. Thran jerked, his phone started ringing and he answered it, they could hear the voice of Judith. "Guys, I have news. Buckle up, this is gonna be a rough ride."

Bard got up too and Thran turned up the sound. "Alright, spill it."

She could be heard rummaging around with something metallic. "First of all, your request about dead collectors? We checked the other precincts and we have three suspicious deaths within the last month, all collectors of rare and valuable books. One was found drowned in his own pool, the next had apparently tried to fix a broken microwave and got electrocuted and the third died of an apparent heart attack but the coroner found traces of some rather sinister compounds in his blood, apparently it is something soviet spies were infamous for using in the days of the cold war."

Thran almost growled. "Three murders, do not believe something else for even a second"

Judith's voice was rather dry. "I don't. Well, here comes the rough part. Mr Boden was tortured for sure, you saw that rather well. But the torture lasted for way longer than I first assumed. The housekeeper said that the heat was turned down? They probably switched off on purpose, to break him down. He had arthritis, was reliant on heat to even move"

Father Peter was pale, he was looking as if he was about to cross himself at any moment. "Yes, Mr Boden was very fragile, if the weather was damp he could barely move at all"

Jamanda was thinking fast. "The torture, was it of the medieval type?"

Judith was quiet for a second. "Yes damn it, it was as if they had used old books about the theme as guidelines."

Jamanda stared at the floor, her face was dark. "Had they used methods used by witch hunters?"

Bard frowned. "Damn it, are you thinking about that goddamn book, what was it named…"

Father Peter sent them a very faint smile. "The Malleus Maleficarium, the hammer of witches. The most evil book ever written"

Jamanda gave him thumbs up. "Exactly"

Judith was even more dry when she answered. "You won't find a copy of that on my night stand but I guess you can say that they used that book as an inspiration yes, that he lived for days is nothing short of a miracle. He must have had a will of steel"

Father Peter sniffled. "Oh he was strong, a very determined man for sure"

Bard swallowed hard. "But why, were they after that book you mentioned Jamanda?"

She looked a bit bewildered, she was pulling books out of the structure and checked them all. "Maybe, but it isn't here? It is massive, way too big to fit into this thing"

Thranduil frowned. "How big is it then?"

She showed with her arms. "Three foot wide, almost four tall"

Bard gaped . "Are you kidding me?"

She shook her head. "No, old religious books were often very large, you couldn't just waste that much vellum, so whole skins were used"

Judith could be heard again. "The house is being searched by the forensic experts as we speak, do any of you know if Mr Boden had a will?"

The priest shook his head. "No, I haven't heard him mention anything like that"

She was moving, they heard her going up a flight of stairs. "I will send the names of the deceased, check if they had the same books? It could be a connection there"

Jamanda looked intense. "Oh they were connected for sure. The computer?"

Judith was opening a door, then walking down a corridor, they heard the hollow sound of her footsteps. "Ah guys, Erestor is here, and he is waving his arm at me, I think you better get back here, now!"

Thranduil sighed, "Right, we are coming, hold the fort"

He ended the call and Jamanda stared at the stack of books, her eyes were huge. "Guys, we have books here worth more than a huge mansion, with super cars and what not"

Thranduil wetted his lips. "Damn it, we cannot leave them here, do we have a bag or something?"

Jamanda looked as if she was about to blow a fuse just from the word bag, but Bard turned to the priest. "You have boxes for the bibles and hymn books right?"

Father Peter nodded. "Yes, please, borrow them but we need them back afterwards"

Bard followed the father into a storage room by the entrance, there was several wooden crates there used to store the hymn books and they grasped a few and started filling them. The books had a peculiar smell and the reverend almost hissed seeing the title of some of the books. "These are not suitable for a church"

Jamanda rolled her eyes. "No shit Sherlock, pardon me father but some would have burned the whole chapel down if they had known these books were in here"

They carried the crates out and into the car and then they bid the father goodbye and promised to stop by and tell him if they caught the ones who had killed Mr Boden. The smell of the books was rather pungent within a car and Jamanda crinkled her nose and sneezed. "Damn it, they are dusty"

Thran drove rather fast back to the station and Judith met them, she was obviously excited. "Come on, Erestor has been going over the computer, he has found some interesting things"

Bard stared at Thran, interesting could be a whole lot of things. They entered the room the former hacker now occupied and they stared at the computer, it was placed on a table and there was a screen there, there was also a heap of papers. Erestor turned and smiled at them, but his smile was strange, a mixture of mirth and disgust. "Be seated, this may take a while"

Thranduil leaned forth. "Have mercy man, what have you found?"

Erestor rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Well, believe it or not, this Mr Boden was not as squeaky clean as you may think, not only did he fail to report some rather hefty sums of money to the IRS, but he made way too much money for a mere book salesman."

Bard frowned. "Really? The books were goddamn expensive?"

Jamanda stood there with her arms crossed over her chest. "Yes, he sold some very rare specimen, he was loaded"

Erestor smiled, and cracked his knuckles. The sound made everybody cringe. "Oh yes, he earned a lot on the books, do not misunderstand me. But he had another source of income and it was a source I am working on right now. And yes, he left a will too"

Thranduil tilted his head, he looked very puzzled. "Alright? Who was the beneficiary?"

Erestor pulled out a sheet of paper. "Read it and weep folks"

Thran grasped the paper and started to read it out loud. "This is the last will and testament of Frederick Boden, I am sane and not at all reduced in mind or heart. I leave my whole estate to the chapel of St Nicholas and its priest. They may do whatever they want with it. The national library will get my books except a list I will add at the end of this document. My money will be donated to several beneficiaries, the list will follow"

Bard leaned over and stared at the list. "What?"

Jamanda looked shocked. "The special collection? Why on earth would he donate it to the church of Satan?!"

Thranduil started to giggle. "It is a fuck you to everybody, don't you see? He didn't believe in what those books were about, it was all about their monetary value, and he wasn't religious at all. That organization is really atheists, they just try to remove the influence of religion on society. "

Bard shrugged. "The old man had a sense of humour for sure. "

Thran was reading through the list. "Conservators, museums, the organization for the prevention of art fraud?"

Jamanda pointed at a name on the list. "The anti fraud department of the FBI?!"

Erestor chuckled. "As I said, Mr Boden wasn't innocent, far from it. It may be that he felt that he wanted to clear his name somehow."

Jamanda frowned, she looked tense. "Do not tell me that he was involved in forgery of art?"

Erestor shook his head. "No, I haven't seen any signs of that yet. But he wasn't just honest, look at this list"

They leaned towards the screen and Bard almost head butted Jamanda in his zeal. "Oh my goodness"

Thranduil whistled between his teeth. "Still waters run deep indeed"

Erestor grinned widely, he looked a bit insane doing that. "He had a neat little business going there, and I bet he did it all the old fashioned way, by letter. Done properly that cannot be traced, in special if he used an Alias at the auctions."

Jamanda was shocked, her eyes huge. "I knew that this sort of books are sought after but to exploit that in such a manner? That is rather…"

Bard finished the sentence. "Industrious"

Jamanda looked flustered. "I was about to say something else"

Thranduil looked impressed. "Blackmailing people who buy such books is clever, in special if you are the one who sold them the books to begin with"

Erestor giggled. "And look at the titles too, this wasn't just old porn guys, that wouldn't have meant much, after all, it was all very artsy back then, quite acceptable today. No, it was the more…dubious titles he went after."

Thranduil looked intense again. "Yes, I see it now. This sort of stuff gets under the radar for those who try to find the deviants in our society. They do not realize that such books exist, and that they are seen as works of art more than something despicable. "

Jamanda was a bit pale. "Oh God, the laws back in the days were extremely lax when it came to children's rights, you could do pretty much whatever you wanted to them as long as you didn't outright murder them"

Bard stared at her. "You have seen such books?"

She made a grimace. "Yes, one. In the storage of the museum downtown. It is not open to everybody, believe me. I helped emptying some crates of books from a donation and there it was, the most disgusting filth I have ever seen. And it was old, from the late 18 hundreds."

Thranduil sighed. "Such has gone under the radar for years, simply because it is too expensive and not digital."

Bard had a dark expression on his face. "But still people collect the shit"

Jamanda nodded. "Yes, some for the fact that these books are rare and old, and very expensive. But that doesn't stop some from getting them just to get off."

Erestor had a sinister expression within his eyes. "And Mr Boden was blackmailing the living daylights out of those, well, it wasn't honest for sure but he was clever, and I applaud him. It is a brilliant way of getting back at such filth."

Thranduil stared at Jamanda. "Could this be why he was killed?"

She shook her head. "Hardly, no, someone is after a specific book and it has to be bloody important too, I mean, murdering four people? That takes determination and also a lot of planning."

She stared at Erestor. "Check the book lists, see if he has some sort of list over what others have."

Judith had been quiet, she handed Erestor a list of names, the three who had been murdered in other precincts.

The hacker went to work and after a while he stopped typing and he took a deep breath. "Here, he did have a list over all the collectors in the country, and abroad as well"

Jamanda was reading fast. "Yes, I was right. All three had a copy of the Secret of the wandering heart. So Mr Boden must have one too, but where the hell is it?"

Thranduil was thinking hard. "Could he have had another bank account? "

Erestor went to work again. "No, all his money are in one bank, no transfers or anything to any others. But there is one thing here…"

He was typing and numbers were flying by, Bard would have developed a migraine just by trying to watch it. He pointed at the screen. "Here, he paid a hundred dollars to someone every three months. It isn't much but it was a regular payment"

Bard could almost smell it. "Check the name"

Erestor started typing again, his fingers flew like missiles over the tabs. "Ah, yes, here he is. A certain Dominic Aloro."

He was working fast. "Hmm, Mr Aloro is just sixteen, was there a lawn or something outside of the store? "

Bard shook his head. "No? but…thinking about it, the façade was very clean, and the windows too."

Erestor smiled. "I bet that Mr Aloro is the neighbourhood kid everybody hire to get the maintenance done. A hundred dollars every three months would be decent payment for washing the windows and doing light maintenance."

Jamanda frowned. "A sixteen year old lad? Mr Boden cannot have trusted him with that goddamn book?"

Thranduil shrugged. "Who knows? The housekeeper said that Mr Boden was a very gentle soul, and the priest too seemed to think only the best of him. I think we ought to talk to the kid, maybe he has seen something helpful too"

Judith was standing by the door and she jumped aside, the door was being pushed open rather suddenly and Mr Wolf peeked inside, his face was revealing that this was something serious. "Guys, we have another case, attempted murder, a conservator at the art museum"

Thranduil frowned. "Attempted murder?"

Mr Wolf nodded. "Yes, the man is still alive, but we have told the reporters that he died, he is at the hospital though and in critical condition. He won't make it, but they are doing their best to keep him alive so we may gather some information."

Bard swallowed. "What happened?"

Wolf made a grimace. "Arson, he has severe burns"

Judith closed her eyes. "I will return to the morgue, I have a feeling I may have another stiffy on my table before the day ends then. Go, and let us hope he can tell you something"

Jamanda sat down. "I am staying here, the lists are interesting, I may be able to find some useful information"

Bard and Thran was already heading out, if the victim indeed was dying there couldn't be any time wasted.

They drove using lights and sirens and arrived at the hospital in under five minutes, Bard was glad Thran was such a very experienced driver and the car they used had a very powerful engine too. They rushed inside and up towards the right department, there was a doctor already waiting for them. Wolf had told that they were coming. The doctor was a younger man with a slightly grey face and he looked as if he was half asleep. "I am sorry gentlemen, I haven't slept in two days, we have had an outbreak of a stomach virus and unfortunately a retirement home and a cruise ship were among the places where it hit the hardest. We have worked like madmen to stop the mayhem."

Thranduil cringed, he knew the damages such a virus could create in a closed off environment. "The victim of the arson is stable right now but he is not expected to pull through, the damages are just too large."

They followed the doctor into a room where several machines were humming and buzzing and a small team of nurses were busy monitoring them. Bard gasped, in the bed laid a person who looked more like a mummy than a person, the face was covered with bandages, only the mouth was not covered and he had a breathing tube there. The whole body was wrapped in white, except the right arm and hand, those looked almost unharmed. Thran tensed up. "He cannot speak?"

The doctor shook his head. "No, but he can hear you, he is awake, unfortunately. We have put enough morphine into him to sedate a Clydesdale. If we didn't he would be screaming in agony the whole time."

Bard walked over, slowly, there was a certain smell there, raw and nasty. "But we need information…"

The person on the bed made a gesture with the hand he had left, and Thranduil understood. "He wants to write, get a paper pad and a pen"

The doctor hurried to do that and Thranduil asked for the name of the man and a description of what had happened. The doctor sighed and his face was even more sad than before. "Apparently somebody threw a Molotov cocktail in through his office window, containing some sorts of highly explosive liquid. And he had plenty of flammable stuff stored there too, cleaning up old paintings require solvents."

The doctor looked apologetic. "We are doing our best, but burns this bad are usually not something you survive for very long. His name is Dean Canton, he is forty three years of age and leaves a wife and a ten year daughter. Please, catch whoever did this"

Thranduil tilted his head. "I thought that burn injuries were painless whence the nerves burn off?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes, a third degree burn is usually not something you can feel, but the human brain is a peculiar substance, it stores the memory of agony and thus it becomes real. He watched himself burn, the mind cannot let go of that sensation."

The man grasped the pen almost desperately and a nurse helped him hold the note pad. He was unable to see, but he wrote with very simple letters, the way a first grader would. The word was very clear. Fake it said, and Thranduil swallowed. "Are you talking about the book Secrets of the wandering heart?"

The burned man wrote again, his hand shaking. "Yes."

Bard had a strange feeling of almost déjà vu. "Mr Canton, where is that book?"

The hand was shaking even more than before and the doctor sent them a warning glance, the poor soul was reaching the very limit of what he was capable of doing. He wrote slowly now, and the letters were not easy to understand at all. "Mammoth bones"

Bard stared at Thranduil. "Huh?!"

The doctor almost pushed them out of the room. "Go to the museum, someone is bound to know, but he is at the very end now, I want him to die in peace"

Bard threw a last glance inside of the room, some of the machines were going haywire or so it seemed, the doctor was right, Mr Canton was leaving this world. "Thank you for giving us the chance to get this information, do not let anyone know he spoke to someone."

The doctor sent them a faint smile. "No worries, our staff knows how to keep their gobs shut, we often treat celebrities here."

Bard and Thran ran back to the car and drove off, the museum was closed due to the fire but it hadn't been a large one and it was only in one of the wings of the building, containing offices. The fire brigade was still there and Thran recognized the fire chief who stood there and looked genuinely pissed. The man saw them and lightened up, he walked over. "What a goddamn piece of shit this was, I was afraid the whole goddamn building would burn down for a while. The sprinklers didn't work, and neither did the fire alarm. Someone had cut the wires"

Thranduil almost growled. "Guess who? What can you tell us?"

The fire chief sighed deeply, the men were busy spraying water inside of the scorched hole which had been an office. "That whatever you ever do, do not buy a carpet from the furniture store down by the harbour, the goddamn thing could have been used as a rocket booster. It burned like napalm. But jokes aside, the attack was very well planned, and extremely nasty. I mean, the poor man burned like a candle, I will never be able to forget it"

Thranduil nodded slowly. "Right, are there any representatives from the museum present? We may have a lead"

The fire chief pointed. "The woman in that business suit over there, she is the leader of this department. Art restoration and conservation"

Thranduil thanked the man and he and Bard walked over. The woman was standing there talking to someone who had to be a person working for an insurance company. The man looked more nervous than a cat in a dog pen. Bard could understand though, the woman was impressive to say the least, with a steely gaze and she was glaring at the poor guy. She saw them and the gaze got a bit softer, she excused herself and presented herself as Mrs Joanna Swansea. Thran introduced them both and Mrs Swansea sighed. "This is just awful, we all loved Dean and he was such a good worker, and so dedicated to his work. Why would anybody do something this horrific to someone so kind?"

Bard took a deep breath. "We may have an idea Mrs Swansea, was Dean ever involved in the restauration of old books?"

She frowned. "Well, Dean was an expert on paintings first and foremost but yes, he did also restore old books. We have a few rooms in the basement dedicated to this work"

Thranduil smiled and the woman was staring at him as if he was the second coming of the Christ. He had that effect on women. "Could you please show us?"

She was all smiles and walked into the main building, there were people everywhere, workers mostly who tried to save precious items from water damage and smoke. They took the stairs down to the basement and she walked briskly forth to a closed off metal door, the entire museum was separated into fire proof areas, to avoid the spread of flames. They got inside and now she suddenly froze and looked puzzled. "This ain't right?"

She walked faster and the two followed her, Bard checked that his gun was in its right place and Thranduil was suddenly looking rather intense. "I smell blood"

They almost raced into a very large room filled with paintings, work benches and what not. It was a mess, and not only because of the nature of the room but someone had trashed it. Shelves were torn down, cupboards emptied, some paintings ripped apart. Mrs Swansea made a sound, it was a bit like a distant siren and it grew in intensity and power. Thranduil grasped her and smacked her around the cheeks, she blinked and got a grasp of herself. "Oh god no, oh no. The….the paintings, priceless…"

Bard took a swift round and stopped, behind a turned over work bench he found something he absolutely didn't want to find, a very young woman laid there on her back, empty eyes staring up at the ceiling and a huge pool of blood underneath her. He cussed so bad it was a miracle the entire room didn't catch fire. "Thranduil, we have a victim over here"

Mrs Swansea let out another wail and was getting hysterical once more, Thranduil grasped her and placed her in a chair, it was covered with dust and old paint but screw the smart business suit now. "Listen to me, you go back upside, this is a crime scene now and we cannot have people gallivanting around messing it up even more. But the restoration of books? Where does that happen?"

She sobbed. "The next room."

Bard nodded and walked over to the door, he stared inside. The same sad story, everything was turned over or trashed and the place reeked intensely of turpentine. "They have tried to torch this place too I think, but failed"

Mrs Swansea nodded. "Fire retardant powder, instead of water. We cannot have sprinklers down here, it would be a disaster."

That explained the dust everywhere, it was not dust at all. Thranduil went down on his haunches and stared straight at the woman. "Mrs, listen to me again, calm down. I will let you walk back up now, but are there any place down here with mammoth bones?"

She blinked, almost like a person who has been awakened suddenly from deep sleep. "Ah, mammoth bones? Uh, yes, the museum has a very small palaeontology group, they have a storage room, D-72/49-8."

She sobbed. "Nobody ever goes down there though, the students think it is creepy and only god knows what is stored there. The leader of that department died five years ago and since then very little has happened."

Thranduil helped her up, very gently. "Go back upside now, we will take care of this. Understand? It is alright, we will call it in"

She wiped her eyes and tried to smile, then she walked rather slowly back towards the metal door. Thran grasped his phone. "I call it in, then we go looking for that storage room"

Bard grunted. "This basement is like a maze, I bet we will get lost right away"

Thranduil just grinned. "No we won't. I have worked for museums, I know the system."

He made the call and then they set off. The storages were in the basement of the left wing of the main building and Thranduil was leading them with great confidence, the basement was rather dark and damp and looked suspiciously like a dungeon but they reached the right area after a while. Here the rooms were more modern, with solid metal doors and there was indeed a system there. Thranduil smiled. "The 8 refers to department number 8, which has to be palaeontology"

They found the door, it was not locked but that was no shock, these doors never were in case the place had to be emptied out fast. Some of the things stored down there were absolutely irreplaceable. It made Bard wonder about the really large museums, the famous ones. Who knew what treasures were hidden within their bowels?

The room wasn't large, but it was packed. There were crates from floor to roof and shelves and bones just laid out on the floor. Bard scratched his head. "Oh bugger, how are we to find anything in here?"

Thran walked further into the room, he was staring at the crates. "We have to use logic, where do they find mammoth bones?"

Bard shrugged. "Ah, everywhere?"

Thranduil shook his head. "No, most are found south of where the huge glaciers ended during the last ice age, and also in Russia"

He pointed at a row of rather old crates. "See? Cyrillic writing"

He used his phone as a flashlight, checking each of the crates carefully. "They are nailed shut, but if someone has used them to hide something the lid has to have been taken off"

Bard started at the other end and they worked their way forth. Bard was sweating, the room was indeed creepy and it didn't smell very good. "Damn it, how many bones can a mammoth really have?"

Thran was chuckling. "This isn't just one mammoth, I bet the remains of a few dozen are stored in here"

Bard leaned forth. "Thran, goddamn it, you were right. The heads of the nails here are shiny"

Thranduil rushed over, excited. The crate had been opened, there was little doubt whence you started to examine it. The question was, how were they to open it now? It was nailed shut. Thran looked at the crate, the wood was old and probably brittle but they couldn't break it apart using their hands. Bard found the solution, he grasped something from a shelf and Thranduil gaped. "A bone?"

Bard smiled. "I do not think that the animal it belonged to needs it anymore? And according to the tag it is the rib of a horse so it isn't exactly rare"

He pushed the end inn under the lid and used his weight as leverage. The lid rose, slowly and with a lot of creaking and complaining. Bard moved the rib and repeated the procedure several times, the lid came off when Thranduil grasped it and gave it a proper yank. They stared down into the crate, it was full of wooden chips but also a bag. It was made from fabric and rather new. Bard hesitated, then he lifted it and placed it on top of the lid, he opened it. "Thran, it is the book!"

Thran nodded. "Great, now, we put the lid back on and we have to find a way to get the book out, so nobody sees it"

Bard put up a nasty grin. "Know what? I know just how to achieve that"

They hurried, the lid was hammered shut once more using the shinbone of a bison, then they rushed back to the rooms which had been ransacked. The first officers were arriving and so was Judith. She looked very sad. The deceased was probably in her late teens and most probably a student there. She checked the girl's pockets and found a wallet. "Inga Loef, eighteen, working as a volunteer. Fuck, so meaningless, so goddamn…evil"

Bard nodded. He held the bag with the book across his back, it was bloody heavy. "What is cause of death? Do you know yet?"

Judith grunted. "Yes, no doubt. Blunt force trauma to the back of her head, her skull is reduced to confetti. "

She grasped something from a bench nearby. "And here is the murder weapon. "

Bard felt queasy, it was a mallet of some sorts, with blood and hair on it. "Oh lord, is that brain matter?"

Judith nodded. "Yes, several blows, extremely powerful and swift, the culprit is tall, and very strong too."

Thranduil took a deep breath. "We found the book, but we cannot let anybody see it, could we hide it on the gurney?"

Judith stared at him, her eyes shooting blue lightening, then she softened a bit. "Alright, but just for this one time, put it into the body bag."

Thran hesitated so Judith grasped the bag and put it inside next to the girl, then she arranged the personal belongings of the deceased so they hid the obvious bulge. "You owe me one guys"

Thranduil managed to send her a smile. "We owe you many hundreds Judith, many hundreds"

The space in front of the museum was packed and there was even an ambulance there. Mrs Swansea had obviously suffered a nervous breakdown. They got the body of the girl into the coroners van and then they just took off, this had to be handled fast, before even more people ended up dead.

Back at the station Jamanda was waiting for them, she had gone through the lists and she had friends who were experts on old books too, she had made some discrete calls. Mr Wolf had given them a room in the basement, it wasn't part of the morgue and it was bomb proof. Bard removed the bag from the gurney and they entered, Jamanda was very excited. "He wrote that the book was a fake?"

Thranduil nodded. "Yes, but I am not able to tell for sure, we need an expert to determine that"

Jamanda frowned. "So, Mr Boden has another copy, or at least he had one. That brings us up to five out of seven, but if this one is a fake?"

Bard sighed and stared at his husband. "We need to go and talk to the kid, Jamanda, you and Erestor can check the book, you have called for someone to come?"

She nodded. Bard shrugged. "Uhm, call that person and ask them to come here discretely, in a disguise. We do not know who we are dealing with yet and getting involved could in fact become very dangerous"

Judith looked a bit shocked, then she just nodded. "Alright, I will let him know"

Bard and Thran took off again but not before they had gotten themselves some food, they were starved by now and had to eat something to be able to think straight.

Then they returned to the book store and it was of course sealed off now. Thranduil saw that there were people out on the streets, he was looking for a person who lived in the neighbourhood. They saw an elderly woman who was carrying a bag of groceries and Thran stopped her politely. "Excuse me ma'am, but we are looking for a lad who helped the late Mr Boden from time to time?"

The woman smiled. "Ah, Dominic, yes, he is a very sweet lad, so helpful. He lives in that house over there, third floor. But he is almost deaf, works instead of going to school due to it"

Bard smiled back at her. "Thank you madam, we just need to chat a bit with him"

The woman nodded. "Yes, terrible thing really, we all liked Mr Boden, he kept to himself but he was always polite, and very decent"

Thranduil saw that the building was one with many apartments and it was cheap housing. The people living there were not rich, that was for sure. They entered, the place smelled of cat pee and garbage and the light bulbs in the roof had not been changed for years, the hallways were dark.

They found a door with the word Aloro written on it and knocked, at first nothing happened, then a very skinny woman opened. She was clearly nervous and Bard saw that the apartment was almost empty. There wasn't much there at all, hardly even furniture. "Ma'am, we are here because of Mr Boden, you know that he is dead yes? Dominic worked for him at times and we just want to know if he has seen anything out of the ordinary"

The woman blinked, she was clearly shaken. "Mr Boden, yes, I know. Poor man"

She opened the door, there was something almost defeated about her body language. "Please, enter"

The apartment was small, just one room and a bedroom and a small nook which was serving as a kitchen. This family was poor, dirt poor.

She called out and tapped her foot on the floor in a specific rhythm, a young lad entered from the bedroom, he frowned when he saw them but didn't appear to be hostile minded. Thranduil put on his most gentle face. He made a gesture. "You use sign language?"

The boy lit up, he smiled. "Yes, I sign"

Bard stared at the mother, she was obviously a woman in despair, her eyes had no shine and her clothes were worn and dirty. "Ma'am, your husband?"

She tried to smile. "Dead, six years ago, Dominic makes our money, but is not enough"

Bard looked at the room, he could understand that rather well. "The rent?"

She nodded. "Yes, and medicine, sister sick."

He saw that Thranduil was speaking to Dominic using sign language. "Dominic's sister?"

She sighed and nodded. "Yes, we have no insurance, she may die"

Bard cringed, the grim reality for so many these days. "What is her problem?"

The mother looked down. "Diabetes, I have sold things, for medicine"

Her accent was very thick and Bard suspected that the family originated somewhere in Polynesia. He tried to smile. "What was your husband doing ma'am?"

She looked like an extinguished candle. "He was diver, very good. For oil company"

Bard almost growled, he had heard so much of cases like this one, people too poor to be able to sue when the ones with all the power ought to pay for the loss of lives and health.

Thranduil turned to them. "Dominic has told me that he worked for Mr Boden quite often, and he was very fond of the old man. He trusted him!"

Dominic looked sad. "Boden very kind, paid well, even when I hadn't done much"

Bard noticed a very large painting on the wall, it was showing some men on a sort of raft, pointing towards the horizon. He walked over to it, it was beautiful and extremely lifelike. "This is gorgeous, who made it?"

Mrs Aloro blushed. "I did, when we had money. Yason, he loved it. I couldn't sell it."

Bard had to shut his mouth rather hard. He had been gaping. "You are an artist ma'am"

She blushed even deeper. "Oh, I just…no paint anymore"

Dominic made some gestures. Thran watched him quietly. "Mr Boden gave you something?"

The lad gestured again, made swift movements. Bard had never been able to learn sign language, to him it was gibberish. "Told me to keep it safe, never tell anyone. But you are okay, I like you."

Thranduil bowed down, his eyes were sincere. "Yes, we want to find those who hurt Mr Boden, and punish them"

Dominic smiled. "I show you"

He walked into the bedroom, it was very simple too, just a large bed and in it was a very skinny girl of maybe ten or eleven. She was asleep and Bard could smell the sweet scent of a diabetic who wasn't well regulated. His heart was bleeding for this family. Dominic pulled a suitcase out from underneath the bed, he nodded. "Take it, for you"

Bard grasped the handle, the whole thing was heavy and he knew what it was already. He took a deep breath. "Dominic, thank you. Mr Boden would be so proud of you."

Thranduil peeked in, he saw the sleeping girl and Bard knew the expression on his face. They were both in agreement here. Bard picked the suitcase up and they left the bedroom, Thranduil was staring at Mrs Aloro, his eyes were soft. "Do you have any food at all?"

She cringed. "Just a little, for the children"

Thranduil shook his head in disbelief. "Well, we cannot have that now can we? I will see what I can do, wait a minute or two"

He took his phone and went outside, Bard already knew what he was doing, and he agreed wholeheartedly. Mrs Aloro was confused. "What he mean?"

Bard smiled. "He will buy you some food"

The woman almost started to cry. Bard suddenly heard his own phone go off, he picked it up. It was the station and it was the voice of Erestor, the hacker sounded excited. "We have gone over the lists, including the will. There was an added part to it, it was just a few months old and in a different file. Can you guess what it said?"

Bard held his breath. "Let me guess, he has put aside money for his errand boy?"

Erestor was silent for a second. "How the heck did you know this?"

Bard felt the urge to say something sarcastic. "I am a police investigator, it is my job"

He took a deep breath. "Just how much?"

Erestor mentioned a sum of money and Bard blinked, this family was saved, that was beyond any doubt. But it wouldn't last and he knew that Thran probably had a plan already. The painting was truly gorgeous, if Mrs Aloro could produce more like that she could make a good living from it.

Thran came back and smiled at them. "There will be some food delivered to you in half an hour, do not worry, it will be alright."

Bard pulled his husband aside, whispered to him. "Erestor just called, there was an extra beneficiary in the will, this lad and his family. They will get enough to push through for sure, but it won't last forever"

Thran smiled, he looked very relieved. "That is marvellous, I am glad. Now, we better get back to the station, the expert has arrived now I reckon?"

Bard shrugged. "Erestor didn't mention it but I guess he must be there by now."

Thranduil turned to Mrs Aloro, he bowed his head. "We will be back to you soon, there are some things we need to discuss, but could I borrow a blanket? Just to hide the suitcase?"

The woman frowned. "Blanket? No, we have no blanket to spare but box, yes, cardboardbox"

She pointed at the corner and they saw a rather large box there, it had once contained a water heater. It was rather stiff and solid and Bard nodded. "Yes, if someone sees us carrying this they think it is a water heater."

He put the suitcase inside of the box and then they carried it with them back downstairs after having bid the family goodbye and given Mrs Aloro their numbers. They would have to return with a lawyer to have the transfer of money verified and organized. They carried the whole thing down to their car and managed to get it into the trunk. They pretended that it was very heavy and if anybody was watching the illusion was probably a good one. They drove back and got the suitcase out of the trunk down in the garage. They carried it upstairs and Jamanda was waiting there with a elderly man with a goatee and a bald head. He looked more like a villain from a Bond movie than an expert of books but they could immediately tell that there was news waiting for them. Jamanda stared as they put the suitcase up onto the table and opened it. The book was seemingly in pristine condition and the expert was squinting, staring at it. "So, what have you found so far?"

Thranduil was getting impatient and Jamanda nodded. "The book you got from the museum was indeed a fake. It was a very good fake though, made by a professional"

Bard frowned. "What gave it away?"

The expert pointed at the book which laid on a table there, opened. "The ink. Or rather, a colour of ink. There are of course illuminations used on each page, the first letter is very elaborate and often gilded. But they also used coloured ink and the forgers have made a tiny mistake. The ink they have produced and used wasn't truly being used until ten years after the book was supposedly written. The colour fades in a different way than it ought to, it becomes a pale salmon pink but the real original ink will keep a sort of purple tone, even when it fades."

Thranduil was genuinely puzzled. "But why? Why the effort? Is the fake worth anything at all?"

The expert shrugged. "Yes, to a person without the right background this will be impossible to separate from the real one, but I haven't had time to check the text, there could be differences."

Jamanda looked a bit confused. "And there is the mystery, were the books the other three owned real or fakes? Were the murderers after the originals or the copies?"

Erestor shrugged. "The lists I have found indicate that the number of books is correct, minus two. But this new one, is it real or not?"

The expert looked at it, he looked a bit excited and Bard could understand it. For an expert like him seeing these books had to be very special. Jamanda swallowed and walked over, let her hand run over the surface. "It feels original…"

The expert smiled, it was a sort of smug smile. "The good fakes usually does."

She frowned. "But professor Brown, if this one is a fake too, then who knows, the others may be fakes too?"

The professor nodded. "Yes, but why?"

He opened the book very carefully, they saw that he was wearing gloves. "Right, let us see"

He started working, using a sort of tiny microscope and everybody shut up, he probably needed to focus. Bard was wondering what this truly was about, were the murderers trying to find the real books? Or were they unaware of the fact that at least one of them was a fake? Were the fake different somehow from the real book?

But it had to be very important, six people were dead, and under terrible circumstances too. There was great value in these books, he had understood that by now, but enough to go on a sheer killing spree?

Professor Brown was working fast, and he looked like a hound dog trying to pick up a faint scent, he was bending over the book, almost touching it with the tip of his nose. Jamanda had an expression of near awe on her face. The professor kept going for almost twenty minutes, he was a bit grey in the face when he finally straightened his back and he let out a small moan and an apologetic grin. "I am not as young as I used to be."

He put the microscope away and his expression was tense. "The book is a fake, there is no doubt. It has been done by the same person who faked the one from the museum"

Jamanda let out a gasp and the investigators stared at each other again. "So, there is a chance that all the books on the list are fakes?"

Professor Brown nodded. "Yes, but unfortunately we do not have them now do we? There is two possible explanations here. Someone wants to avoid that the fakes are revealed, or they want them removed from the market. "

Jamanda was pale, her eyes huge. "Ah, there is another explanation…"

They stared at her, and she had a very thin voice. "The fakes, are they relatively new?"

Professor Brown nodded. "Yes, made within the last ten years I would guess, probably even newer."

She closed her eyes. "They want the forger, the collectors, they had to die simply because there could be no witnesses, nobody who could reveal that they were looking for the one making such excellent fakes. They tortured them just to make sure that they hadn't figured out that the books were fakes, and that they didn't know the forger"

Thranduil was intense, Bard knew it. "But then, who has the capability? Faking many centuries old books? And that book in special? Why?"

Professor Brown wiped off his glasses, he looked as if he was about to give a lecture. "Ah, that is rather easy to answer, it has to be someone within the business. Someone with experience, with knowledge and not the least time and money. These books are valuable, even as fakes. Only the value of the old vellum is extremely high and all the other tools? The amount of work? The person has been working on this for years, many years"

Bard snapped his fingers. "He has done this for decades then, a person who is no longer young, or could it be several people?"

The professor shook his head. "No, one person. If there are more than one person involved the risk of mistakes increase tenfold. "

Thranduil looked worried. "But if the murderer is say, a person who owns some real books, and want to eradicate the fakes, that person too has to be an expert right?"

Professor Brown smiled. "Yes, you are thinking right. This is a very small community after all, and the people who wander within these circles are all wealthy, and proud too. Having bought a book which turns out to be a fake is a terrible blow, and also a huge financial loss. "

Jamanda mumbled. "That explains the violence, but could the ones doing the dirty work be hired guns so to speak?"

The professor sighed. "Most likely yes, if someone can afford buying books like this they can afford hiring assassins"

Erestor was watching the screen again. "I think the online auctions can give us some answers, Mr Boden made recordings of them, there is a list here going back at least twelve years"

The professor perked up. "Excellent, the number of people in the world capable of buying such books is not large, can you see who the most frequent bidders were? That may give us a clue"

Erestor grinned. "On it"

Jamanda tilted her head. "But there were seven originals of the goddamn book, now we know that at least two are fakes, where are the originals and were are the last two of them?"

The professor had a small pocket computer, started typing and he stared at the screen. "There is one specimen in a museum in Brussels, another one is in the possession of a very well known art collector who lives in Spain. Hmm, I think I may be able to contact them, they need to check the books, they may be fakes"

Thranduil nodded. "Do it, we need to know. If all the books out there are fakes someone has all seven originals somewhere"

Jamanda raised a finger "Correction, may have the seven originals"

The professor went outside of the room to make some calls and Jamanda sat down. "If the seven we know of are all fakes they can hold errors, and they could be sold for a huge amount of money, to those who doesn't know"

Bard frowned. "That could in fact be a smart strategy, spreading fake books to cover up the fact that you have the real ones.

Thranduil was thinking hard. "But the forger, he is a part of the community, a person who belongs. He knows all there is to know about old valuable books, and this one in particular. And he has time on his hands, a retired person maybe?"

Jamanda shrugged. "Could be, but why this particular book? It is rare yes, and almost legendary too. But that makes it hard to sell, everybody knows the people who owns one."

Bard jerked. "Could the real originals have been switched? For the fakes?"

Jamanda gaped. "Yes, yes of course, there you have something I can believe. And if one book is revealed to be fake there is a chance that every book will be checked, and if the owners discover that they are fakes then…"

Thranduil squinted. "So, they switched the originals, that require skill and an intimate knowledge of the owners and their security systems and their routines. It must be Mr Canton who first discovered the forgery, and yet he didn't warn anyone until it was too late?"

Jamanda nodded. "Yes, I think he may have doubted his own discovery, he may have gone online to contact someone capable of verifying his find and that may have set off the alarms. The people behind it all had to silence everybody, and they did"

Bard crossed his arms, he was starting to feel tired, and he was developing a headache. "This is a genuine mess people, but if one person has all the seven originals that has to mean something? I mean, that one person cannot just go around bragging about having the originals? And absolutely not after the news catch onto this, for they will"

Jamanda sighed deeply. "It all comes down to the nature of that book again, the secret it is supposed to contain. I bet the fakes have deliberate errors in them, to mislead anybody trying to find it"

Bard nodded. "And when it becomes known that there are seven fakes out there somebody is going to be genuinely pissed and the one with the originals will probably have problems coming, for somebody is bound to know the truth right?"

Thranduil bit his lower lip. "I do not like this at all, it sounds very sinister"

The professor re-entered the room, his face was drawn. "I have spoken to the museum and the collector, they were not happy for it is night time there now, but they checked, had experts on site so to speak. Both those books are fakes."

Jamanda hid her face behind her hands. "Then the three books we haven't had the chance to check are also fakes, damn it"

Erestor lifted his gaze from the screen again. "I think I know who it is who has the originals"

Jamanda was a bit stunned. "This fast?"

Erestor grinned widely. "I am a hacker right? I can access any site and I mean any site. No secrets are safe as long as they are digital"

Professor Brown looked excited. "Who then? "

Erestor stretched his arms and cracked his fingers again, it made them all cringe. "There was one name which showed up rather often, and then it suddenly vanished, but most of the seven books were on the market again after that. Those were probably the fakes, he had been bidding like mad and then he just stopped, that is strange isn't it?"

Jamanda nodded. "Yes, he may have gotten the books through other means"

Erestor sighed and there was something dark in his eyes. "I have found the original owners here, it is all online if you know how to look. They are all dead, the books were put out for sale not long after, it was all accidents and there was something strange about it"

Thranduil almost growled. "They were murdered and the originals switched for the fakes, smart, and very vicious too"

Erestor nodded. "The families sold the fakes, not knowing they were fakes. And when Mr Canton found the truth about the book he had the new owners had to go, nasty"

Jamanda was pale. "It must have been easy, presenting themselves as some business associate or something, getting access to the building, replacing the book with the fake."

Bard shrugged. "Or maintenance workers, hired before the owner died, it could have been anything really. Even an ordinary burglary with the normal things stolen"

The professor stepped in one place as if he was in need of the bathroom. "But tell us man, who? Who has the originals then?"

Erestor looked triumphant. "Professor Solomon Aquadorn, a very famous collector of fine art and books, and very respected too"

Professor Brown gawked, he looked silly. "Are you serious? That man is truly a legend, but come to think about it, he has always had a hang up regarding that book"

Erestor nodded. "He lives up by the coast, in a mansion there. He is ninety five and extremely fragile"

Professor Brown had a peculiar grimace on his face. "Listen, I have met Solomon on many occasions, he is a hard nut, no doubt about it, and extremely driven, possessed is perhaps the best way to describe him. But I do not think he has it in him to murder someone, he is honest"

Thranduil stared out into the thin air for a few seconds, with an empty gaze. Then he snapped out of it. "You do not know what you have got until you lose it."

The others stared. "What do you mean?"

Jamanda was frowning and Thran turned to Professor Brown. "Does he have family?"

The professor nodded. "Yes? Two daughters who live in Canada and a son, a spoiled brat if you ask me"

Thranduil was sinister now, the eyes dark and his expression that of a predator on the hunt. "Here is the scenario I think is believable. That son knows his father is after the books, he uses daddy's account, figures out who owns them and then he gets some goons to take them out. Replaces the books with the fakes and nobody is any wiser. He is after the secret for sure"

Professor Brown made a sort of gargling sound, his eyes were bulging. "Oh god, yes, it makes sense, it all makes sense now. Francois is a man capable of strangling his own mother if it gives him fame and money. He must have discovered that Mr Canton was onto the scam and panicked. If the old man figures out that his son has murdered and made fake books goodbye to any heritage"

Bard took a deep breath. "So, what the heck do we do?"

Erestor smiled, it was a very smug smile. "There are seats bought on a flight for the coast, it leaves in two hours. You will be there by nightfall"

Jamanda gaped. "But… tonight? Ah, what?"

Erestor stared at them. "Listen, if Francois is capable of having several people murdered just to cover up the lies he has concocted who knows what he is capable of doing to his own father?"

Thranduil was still dark eyed and his face was like hewn from marble. "Yes, we go. I don't care if we are outside of our jurisdiction, we have to warn him. And find the books too!"

Bard took a deep breath. He would have to call the kids and Jean and tell them that it was unlikely that any of them would come home that night. It would be tough but doable.

The professor made a gesture. "Are there tickets for me and Jamanda too?"

Erestor smiled widely. "Of course, we need the experts for this. I will keep an eye on you, don't worry"

Bard grunted. "Big brother is watching right?"

Erestor snickered. "Big brother is indeed watching"

The flight was not long, just two hours and they managed to get some sleep, Mr Wolf had approved of their little trip when they explained the situation and he made a call to the local police in the town near the mansion to warn them about the situation and the potential dangers.

There was a rental car waiting for them at the airport and they drove in relative silence. They were tired but the adrenaline kept them going. The mansion was a grand old building placed on a hill with a huge garden and it was very beautiful and created an atmosphere of awe and peace. But the place was not peaceful. The front yard was full of black cars and people wearing black, there seemed to be a constant stream of folks leaving and coming and Bard frowned. "What the hell?"

Jamanda wetted her lips. "A funeral?"

The professor tilted his head. "More like a memorial service?"

They stared at each other. "We are not too late?!"

Jamanda sounded a wee bit hysterical and Bard opened his phone. "Erestor, quick, has there been any deaths in the family, recently?"

The voice was calm but there was an odd tone in it. "Ah, yes, today. Francois are no longer with us people, I think that you will find out how very soon!"

Bard blinked. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Erestor was dead serious. "There is a thing called Karma guys, and sometimes it is a true bitch"

He ended the call and Bard stared at the phone with huge eyes. Thranduil parked the car, he took a deep breath. "Right, we all wear rather dark clothes so we won't stick out too much from the crowd, I want to come to the bottom of this"

They excited the car and they saw that the last of the people were leaving now, it was obvious that they had been inside just for a few minutes. They walked towards the entrance slowly, a man stood there and he was a guard, Bard could see the bulge under the armpit revealing a hidden gun. Professor Brown walked forth. He put on a very sombre smile. "I am Professor Brown, I have met Mr Aquadorn on some occasions."

The guard tilted his head and said something into a head piece, he waited, then he smiled. "I have been ordered to let you enter"

Professor Brown bowed his head and they followed him, the house was magnificent, not opulent but it was very obvious that the owner was an art expert. There was a serene atmosphere there, one of timeless beauty. The hallway lead into a rather large room probably meant for meetings, and Bard had to blink. There were three people in there, two men who had to be servants and Mr Aquadon, he was in a wheelchair and looked as if he was about to die at any moment. He was wearing an oxygen mask and his skin looked like bread dough. This was a very ill human being.

He saw them and smiled, a very slow and sardonic grin. He removed the oxygen mask, nodded. "Gentlemen, Professor Brown. I was waiting for someone like you!"

Professor Brown frowned. "Really?"

The old man wheezed and the servants looked worried. "Yes, I am dying, but I am not stupid. I understood what my Francois had done, the bastard should have been strangled with his own umbilical cord"

Thranduil heard the bitterness in the voice and all the pain in the voice wasn't physical. "What happened Mr Aquadon?"

The old man waved his hand and a woman entered from a side door, she wore an elegant black dress and she sent the old man a sad glance. "I am Eleane, the youngest daughter. My sister is actually in hospital right now with a new born so she couldn't come here. I will explain, my father doesn't have much breath left in him"

Jamanda swallowed. "It all boils down to the book right?"

Eleane nodded and gestured for the table, they all sat down and the servants immediately found some glasses and started filling them, it was a very nice wine. "Yes, the accursed book. Father was obsessed with it for a very long time, but he never managed to buy more than one copy, and so he sold it again. If you are a collector you need all seven. "

Professor Brown nodded. "Yes, the secret!"

Elean shook her head and scoffed. "Bha, we never believed in that bullshit, but the books were rare, and exquisite, they belong together. But Francois…"

Bard made a grimace. "He believed?"

She nodded. "Yes, and that cost him his life this very morning"

Thranduil leaned forth a bit. "How?"

Eleane sighed, she was a bit pale. "He believed that he had cracked the code, found the secret. So he left two days ago for France, apparently there was a treasure hidden within some cave, and he didn't tell anyone except his goons. He didn't listen to the locals either, he was always stubborn and full of himself"

The old man coughed. "Idiot!"

Bard just stared. "The cave wasn't safe?"

She let out a sort of scoff. "Of course it wasn't safe, it was lethal. But he had to go in there, and the whole thing came down. He will never be found, only one of his so called friends survived long enough to alert someone, but he too died in the hospital. "

Jamanda swallowed hard, her eyes glassy. "I am sorry"

Eleane shook her head. "Do not be, we have gone through his correspondence and his contacts, he kept the books here, in the vault. Father cannot access it anymore, he cannot get down there in the chair and Francois knew this. And he even used dad's name on the auction sites, he has murdered many people haven't he?"

Bard nodded. "Yes, six in our city, and the owners of the books too, but you already knows that yes?"

She took a deep breath. "Oh god, we were afraid of that…"

Jamanda cleared her voice. "The fakes, he had seven made right? But who…"

Mr Aquadon removed the mask again. "Professor Brown, you know him. Francois pressured him into doing it, I do not know what my son knew which was so terrible but the poor soul has become a nervous wreck."

He nodded at Eleane who looked down. "Mr Arendt"

Professor Brown looked as if he had fallen down from the moon and Jamanda let out a shriek. "But, God, he is…"

Eleane nodded. "The main conservationist at the Smithsonian yes, the world's foremost expert on medieval scriptures"

Professor Brown was pale. "Oh…the ink. It was intentional then, so the fakes could be revealed for what they were"

Jamanda nodded. "Yes, he could have made perfect copies, beyond any doubt"

Eleane sighed and her face was grey. "I have checked all the emails my brother has sent and he had seen that a Mr Canton had sent a mail to Mr Arendt regarding one of the books. And Francois knew it was one of the fakes. He couldn't risk that Mr Arendt chose to reveal his own work, he didn't trust the man. He wanted all the fakes retrieved, just in case."

Thranduil tilted his head. "But Mr Canton wasn't the first who was murdered?"

Eleane made a strange scoffing sound, something between a sob and a giggle. "Did I mention his idiot friends? Oh they were obedient like a dog as long as they were fed enough money. But they were not very smart. Francois sent them an email with a list of the owners of the fake books, and it was in random order. "

Bard was still curious. "But why go to the step of having the books forged? He could just have bought the seven originals, using his father's name?"

She shook her head. "No, father would have found out, and Francois didn't have that much money to his own name. But if the books were out there still he could study the originals in peace"

Jamanda mumbled. "I wonder what he found out"

Eleane shrugged. "I hope to God nobody ever finds out, the cave was a trap for sure"

Professor Brown looked down. "The author guarded his secrets well"

Mr Aquadon made a gesture and the servants left the room, they saw that the old man only used one arm. "Father has cancer, and a muscular disease too. He has weeks left"

The old man coughed and lifted the mask again. "I am glad that moron is dead, him surviving me would have been an insult"

The servants came back, pushing some rather cumbersome trolleys. On them laid seven books, and Professor Brown looked absolutely mesmerized. "Is that…"

Eleane sent him a curt nod. "It is, the seven originals of the wandering heart. Take them, we do not want them, do whatever you want with those darn books. They are drenched in blood"

Bard turned to Thranduil. "So, these are the originals, but the murders, I just wonder…"

Eleane smiled at him, a very sad smile. "Yes?"

Bard swallowed, he felt as if he was skating on very thin ice now. "Why the violence? One of the collectors were tortured, in a very medieval manner one may say, and why do that if he didn't yet know that his book was a fake? And one was burned alive! It was so nasty"

Eleane looked down, then she looked at her father who nodded slowly. "Misters, ma'am. His men were as before mentioned goons, and obedient. They were also without empathy. Francois was paranoid, terrified that somebody else would figure it out before him, he made Mr Arendt change the texts in the fakes and still he was afraid that somehow there would still be clues in them. That was why the poor collectors had to die and he gave the idiots free reins, told them to make it look as if it was some sort of gang related vengeance or something. Unfortunately the leader of his henchmen was a guy who had some brains after all, and he was very fascinated by the past, torture in special. They must have gone overboard to get their hands on the fakes, and lost it when they couldn't"

Jamanda sighed. "Poor Mr Boden, they tortured him just for fun then, it is just awful"

Thranduil was stone faced again. "So much meaningless death, and just for some books, and a supposed secret"

Eleane sent him a pale look. "Yes, utterly meaningless and cruel. As this world often is"

Professor Brown stared at the books still. "May I suggest that these books are donated to the Smithsonian. What are to happen to Mr Arendt by the way?"

Thranduil shrugged. "That is up to the lawyers but frankly speaking? I don't think much will be done, he was coerced into making the fakes and it has had to cost him a lot, both when it comes to money and also professionally"

Bard looked curious. "I still wonder what it was that he was pressured with? It has to be something which could devastate his professional life or something? "

Professor Brown shrugged. "I cannot think of anything really. He is a very honest person, and he has dedicated his entire life to his love of art"

Jamanda grasped her phone. "We need a delivery service to come and pick up the books, no way they will accept those at the airport. And we cannot risk that they are getting lost."

Bard smiled at her. "Do it, and make them mark the crates with "dangerous biological samples" that ought to keep anyone from trying to see what it is"

Eleane had to giggle. "I will make sure that this is done, we have some nice crates here, used for refrigerated food. They ought to be convincing. "

Mr Aquador spoke again. "My name is untarnished, that is a relief. But Francois will be erased from the family tree, he could have thrown shame on us all"

Thranduil gave the old man one of his more gentle smiles. "I know"

They got up and Eleane showed them out, they were quiet as they drove back to the airport. Professor Brown looked a bit like a defeated man. "To think that greed was behind it all is just…mind boggling."

Jamanda nodded. "Yes, usually it is about owning something exquisite and rare, not money in itself"

Bard had grasped his phone was texting like mad, he didn't say to whom though.

They were asleep for most of the flight and as they were taxing to the terminal Bard grinned but It was a very sad smile. "Erestor has found that weakness Francois used to pressure Mr Arendt into making the copies."

Thranduil yawned and stretched and Jamanda looked a bit uncertain. "I am not so sure I want to know…"

Bard grinned widely. "It is nothing juicy, it is a mistake he made many decades ago. When he was fresh in the job. Apparently he made a copy of a very valuable book, just as a training exercise and to learn more. But by accident someone mistook his work for the original and sold it, and he was unable to tell anybody about it, he was too ashamed. Francois must have managed to find that copy and put two and two together. It would have put a stain on the man's reputation if it was known"

Professor Brown let out a sigh of relief. "Phew, I am glad it was something of that like, I was afraid it was something more sinister. Mr Arendt would indeed have been mortified, he was all about being professional after all"

It was very late now so the professor took a cab back to his home and they dropped of Jamanda too. It had been a very strange case, and a case which had been revolting and also very strange. They briefed Wolf about the outcome and then they went home. They took two days off and Thranduil didn't waste any time. He made sure that the Aloro family got the money set aside in Mr Boden's will, then he more or less coaxed Mrs Aloro to show the painting at a local gallery and suddenly several galleries were interested in her work.

She was able to buy what she needed and Thranduil let her use one of the barns at the farm as a work room, Jean had transformed it into a centre for local artists and she was more than welcome. Suddenly the family could afford a better place to live, the sister could get her medicine and Dominic got a cochlear implant so he was able to finally hear.

Mr Arendt confessed to having forged the books, and the three copies they hadn't managed to find were taken from an auction a week later. One of the goons had tried to make some money on his own and had taken the books from the dead collectors and hoped to sell them. Unfortunately he was already dead and the people arranging the auction got suspicious. Mr Arendt had been smart, way smarter than Francois. He had marked every copy he made with the same number, in roman letters. Francois would never have figured this out but if two collectors got together and compared their books it would have been spotted right away. After all, they were supposed to be marked from one to seven.

The seven books ended up at the Smithsonian in the end, and was put on display. The seven copies were also gathered there in the end, also on display but they were marked as fakes and special dye was added to the vellum so that nobody ever could try to pass them off as the real thing.

For once there were no arrests, but as Thranduil later said it, you cannot trust anything these days, least of all the written word.