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The professor looked over at Sam, a bit surprised. “Not in my opinion. There are certainly far more valuable books out there. That being said, this is an excellent copy. I suppose it’s possible someone would want it to add to a collection.”
“How much?” Remi asked. “Assuming you were a collector and wanted this?”
“Assuming the rest of the book is in pristine condition and nothing is missing . . . four, five thousand.”
“That’s it?” Sam asked.
“It’s not a particularly rare book. Just old, and with a subject matter that makes it highly appealing to the maritime collector and anyone interested in pirates. So, yes. No more than five thousand, I’d think. And that’s due to the endpapers being intact.”
“Still,” Remi said, her brows arching, “that’s a pretty penny, considering I paid less than fifty dollars for it. Unfortunately, I think we need to turn this volume over to the police.”
“For what reason?” he asked her. “If you paid for it, legally it’s yours.”
She explained how the book came into her possession.
Professor Hopkins ran his gloved fingers along the leather cover. “Quite the interesting history for this little volume.”
“Exactly,” Remi said. “Which makes me wonder if we’re not overlooking something.”
“We are,” Sam replied. “The two thugs in our hotel room who were asking if we’d found a key of some sort.”
The professor glanced up from the page he’d been examining. “A key? For what?”
“That,” Sam said, “is part of what we’re hoping you might discover. Is there something different about this book in comparison to the others? Invisible writing? Pages that might differ from other copies?”
“I’d be glad to take a closer look for you. Examine it under different lighting. Photograph each page so that you can make the comparisons later. Of course, there is a fee. And one other appraisal ahead of yours.”
Sam pulled out his wallet. “And what’s your standard fee?”
“One twenty-five an hour. With only the one
small volume, I don’t expect it will take much over an hour, maybe two at the most.”
Sam took five hundred-dollar bills from his wallet. “Would that cover moving it to the head of the line?”
“I’ll give my client a call and let him know his appraisal will be late.”
“We’d appreciate it.” Sam looked at his watch, saw it was half past eleven, and asked Remi, “Lunch while we’re waiting?”
“Definitely,” she said. Then to Professor Hopkins, “Any recommendations?”
“There’s an excellent Italian restaurant a couple of miles from here. Marcellino Ristorante. Highly recommended. In fact, if you prefer, I can bring the book to you there when I finish looking it over. The client I have to visit is actually very near there.”
“Perfect,” Remi said. “We’ll see you then.”
The restaurant was located in an open-air plaza that backed up to the waterfront in Old Town Scottsdale. Sam opened the wrought-iron gate for Remi and then the glass door. The sound—and scent—of sizzling garlic and fresh herbs wafted toward them as a charming woman introduced herself as Sima, warmly welcomed them and led them to their seats, wishing them a “Buon appetito.”
There were two empty tables near the window overlooking the patio. She sat them at the table to the right, since the one in the corner on the left held a small placard stating it was Reserved for Authors and Muses. After looking at the menu, Remi started with insalata caprese of fresh mozzarella, garden tomatoes, red pepper, and basil, followed by cozze in bianco—mussels sautéed in white wine. Sam opted for the carpaccio, with raw ahi tuna on a bed of arugula, and grilled salmon, and, for the table, a bottle of sparkling white wine, Falanghina Nudo Eroico.
When the wine was served, Remi lifted her glass to Sam’s. “Here’s to hoping Professor Hopkins finds this mysterious key.”
“Agreed.”
They had just finished their meal when Chef Marcellino approached their table, greeting them, his Italian accent very evident. “You have met my beautiful wife,” he said as he nodded to Sima. “I hope you enjoyed your lunch. And perhaps saved room for dessert?”
“The food,” Remi said, “was wonderful. Dessert . . . ?” She looked over at Sam.
“I’m always a sucker for sharing tiramisu with a beautiful woman.”
