The Narrows - Michael Connelly [122]
I nodded.
“Good to hear. Is that the book?”
“Yeah, does she have this one? It came out last year.”
He showed me a book called The Face. I didn’t know if Kiz had it or not but I was going to buy it.
“I don’t know. Did he sign it?”
“Yeah, signed and dated.”
“Okay, I’ll take it.”
While he rang up the sale I tried some small talk which really wasn’t small talk.
“I saw you have the camera set up underneath there. Seems like a little much for a bookstore.”
“You’d be surprised. People like to steal books. I got a collectibles section back there—expensive stuff from the collections I buy and sell. I keep a camera right on it and I caught a kid in there just this morning trying to shove a copy of Nick’s Trip down his pants. Early Pelecanos is tough to find. That would’ve been about a seven-hundred-dollar loss for me.”
That seemed like an inordinate amount of money for a single book. I had never heard of the book but guessed that it must have been fifty or a hundred years old.
“You call the cops?”
“No, I just kicked him in the pants and told him if he came back again I would call the law.”
“You’re a nice guy, Ed. You must have mellowed out since you left. I don’t think the Praying Mantis would’ve just let the kid slide.”
I handed him two twenties and he gave me the change.
“The Praying Mantis was a long time ago. And my wife doesn’t think I’m so mellow. Thanks, Harry. And tell Kiz I said hello.”
“Yeah, I will. You ever run into anybody else from the table?”
I didn’t want to leave yet. I wanted more information so I continued the banter. I looked up over his head and spotted a small two-camera dome. It was mounted up near the ceiling, one lens angled down on the register and one taking in the long view of the store. There was a small red light glowing and I could see a small black cable snaking from the camera housing and up into the drop ceiling. While Thomas answered my question I was thinking about the possibility that Backus had been in the store and was captured on a surveillance tape.
“Not really,” Thomas said. “I sort of left all of that behind. You say you miss it, Harry, but I don’t miss a thing about it. Not really.”
I nodded like I understood but I didn’t. Thomas had been a good cop and a good detective. He took the work to heart. That was one reason why the Poet had put him in the sights. He was paying lip service to something I didn’t think he really believed.
“That’s good,” I said. “Hey, do you have that kid you kicked out of here on tape from this morning? I’d like to see how he tried to rip you off.”
“Nah, I just have live feeds. I got the cameras out in the open and a sticker on the door. It’s supposed to be a deterrent but some people are dumb. A setup with a recorder would be too expensive and a pain in the ass in maintenance. I just have the live setup.”
“I see.”
“Listen, if Kiz already has that book I’ll take it back. I can sell it.”
“No, that’s cool. If she already has it I’ll keep it and read it myself.”
“Harry, when’s the last time you read a book?”
“I read a book about Art Pepper a couple months ago,” I said indignantly. “He and his wife wrote it before he died.”
“Nonfiction?”
“Yeah, it was real stuff.”
“I’m talking about a novel. When was the last time you read one?”
I shrugged. I didn’t remember.
“That’s what I thought,” Thomas said. “If she doesn’t want the book bring it back and I’ll get it to somebody who’ll read it.”
“Okay, Ed. Thanks.”
“Be careful out there, Harry.”
“I will be. You, too.”
I was heading to the door when things came together—what Thomas had told me and what I knew about the case. I snapped my fingers and acted like I just remembered something. I turned back to Thomas.
“Hey, I got a friend lives all the way in Nevada but he says he’s a customer of yours. Mail order probably. You do mail order?”
“Sure. What’s his name?”
“Tom Walling. Lives all the way up in Clear.”
Thomas nodded but not in any happy sort of way.
“He’s your friend?”
I realized I might have stepped in it.
“Well, an acquaintance, you could say.”
“Well,