Read Online Sun of the Sleepless by Patrick Horne - Free Book Online Page B

a Dutch goodbye. He looked around and saw Frans turn and walk to the door, a deadpan glance between their eyes indicating no assent or confirmation of action required.
    His confusion increased as he saw Frans wave a casual farewell, swing open the door and meander out to the street, turning about to wander off in the direction of the café that they had vacated some quarter of an hour ago.
    Frans' actions had implicitly declared a reprieve for the dealer; it seemed that the old man had unknowingly played his hand to perfection and his stake was safe, if not enhanced by winnings taken from his opponents.
    Scanning the array of book spines once again, Rey's eyes alighted upon two volumes on the shelf before him. He picked them out and approached the counter, sliding the pair across to the dealer who was now smiling at him.
    The old man looked down at the books and then up at his erstwhile nemesis, regardless of whether he knew it or not. Although ignorant of his narrowly averted fate, Johann Janssens could immediately tell the nationality of the customer standing before him. Without consternation he switched languages with ease and started speaking in accented but very clear English.
    'Ah, The Golden Bough by Sir James Frazer. 'A Study in Magic and Religion', 1890, Volumes 1 and 2. The first edition! You know this book?'
    He gently opened the first volume and lightly flicked through the pages before looking up at Rey again.
    Rey nodded and returned the munificent grin of the old man standing before him. He was glad that it had turned out this way as during the few minutes of their ambient encounter he had decided that he liked the dealer.
    'Yes, you could say that. You have a good copy here, all original green cloth, spines lettered with gilt, front covers with the mistletoe design, no scraping or damage. It's in excellent condition. A pity that the spines are slightly chipped at the heads.'
    The dealer peered closely at the pages open before him.
    'Hmmm, yes, also a little toning on the margins but this is to be expected, not so?' Janssens smiled again as he looked up, it was clear that he loved his books, loved his trade. 'You know something of such things?'
    'Not much,' Rey averred, 'but enough to know when I see a bargain.'
    He considered whether the dealer regularly dealt in stolen goods.
    Janssens leaned his head to one side thoughtfully, 'Yes, just so, in which case you are not surprised by the price, hey? So many people come in and expect to buy history at knocked-down prices. Cheap history does not bode well for the future I think.'
    'A history remembered is a future assured,' Rey agreed as he gently spun the open book around and ran a finger down the edge of the facing page. 'I'd like to buy these volumes!'
    'A wise decision,' the dealer assured with a delighted expression, 'just give me a moment to get the card reader to operate, it sometimes takes a little time. New technology does not always deliver what it promises, hey?'
    Reaching into an inside pocket, Rey smoothly withdrew a bulky brown envelope, 'No need, I'll pay cash. Would that warrant a small discount?'
    'Oh, yes,' the old man enthused as his eyes lit up, 'that would be fine! You are clearly a serious collector!' He pondered for a moment, 'Shall we say two and a half thousand Euros?'
    Burrowing into the envelope, Rey pulled out three wads of notes, placing two of them down and riffling through the last one to extract the odd five hundred Euros.
    'I will give you a hand-written receipt, what name shall I put on it?'
    Ignoring the pile of notes that had been deposited on the counter, Janssens fumbled about as if looking for a pen and his receipt book.
    Rey paused and then smiled, 'Mr. Nemein'.
    He wondered whether the learned gent would recognise the Greek etymology, meaning 'to give what is due', a small but provocative academic reference, considering the circumstances.
    The dealer scribbled a few lines in a spidery scrawl and handed the receipt over,