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Mr. Renwick, I mean.”
    Norris, I sensed, was normally a cheerful person and likely had trouble expressing negativity; still my question caused him to purse his lips in a slight frown. “Yes, indeed he did. Two thefts in one night. And both associated with Charles. Just awful. Not a coincidence, do you think?”
    â€œFar from it. In fact I think they may have been committed by the same man.” I thought of the woman posing as a New York cop and corrected myself. “If not one man then a group working together.” The room felt cool and I felt glad of the hot tea. I wrapped my hands around the mug to warm them. “Were valuable books taken from here as well?”
    â€œJust a minute, and I’ll show you what they stole.” Norris opened one of the lower trays in a cabinet, pulled out a file, and handed it to me. “Not books. But they did take this. One of the valuables Charles had from the time he was a boy living in the Orient—the Near East rather; I suppose that’s the correct term to use now. He kept it on display in the front room.”

    I looked at the photograph. I had no idea what to make of the strange-looking circular stone, although I immediately recognized the markings as cuneiform writing. I held the photograph up to the light to get a better look. “Do you know what it is?”
    Norris shook his head. “Can’t tell you. Renwick himself didn’t know its exact purpose but it was a prized object. He went over there this past August.”
    â€œWhere exactly?”
    â€œIraq.”
    â€œIn the middle of a war?”
    â€œHe told me he’d gone to Basrah. Our English soldiers are in charge there, you know, and compared to Baghdad it’s relatively quiet. Frankly, I’m not convinced he told me the truth. I suspected he said that to reassure me.”
    â€œCurious the thief would take this and leave other valuables behind.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Norris said. “A first English edition of Andrew Lang’s Blue Fairy Book and one of Perrault’s original publications from 1855 were both in the front room—worth a great deal. I’ve removed them to the bank for safekeeping.”
    â€œDoes that round stone object have any connection to the book I won at auction for Mr. Renwick?”
    Norris lifted his glasses to rub his eyes. “I believe it did. Just what I cannot say. Charles was not a talkative man at the best of times. Very close-mouthed about it.”
    As I drank my tea, I wondered why Renwick had been so guarded about the object. I didn’t want to upset Norris any further but had to bring the conversation around to my attacker. “Did Newhouse tell you what happened to me?”
    â€œI got the gist of it. You were assaulted by a stranger?”
    â€œThat’s right. A peculiar man. He carried a cane with a white horse carved on it. Black hair and mustache. Goatee. Black hat and long coat.”
    Norris reacted as though I’d struck him. “My goodness! A similar person came into the shop yesterday afternoon. Said he was interested in buying one of our books. I explained we didn’t sell them directly. He argued with me. Finally I agreed to let him have a children’s fairy-tale book just to get rid of him.”
    My nerves tingled on hearing this. “Did he say anything else?”
    â€œNo. But he had a strange quality about him.” Norris’s voice grew hoarse and I had to lean in to hear him. “And he didn’t even pretend to give me an honest name. At first I thought he was trying to make some kind of joke.”
    â€œGian Alessio Abbattutis—is that what he said?”
    â€œWhy, no. Wilhelm Grimm—one of the German fairy-tale brothers, the younger of the two. Can you believe that? Why make up a name I’d recognize as false?”
    I mused out loud, “Maybe he came to check your place out because he knew he’d be back later to