Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

assessment. When I walked through the rooms of Grace’s home, I didn’t get the same closed-in, claustrophobic, unstable feeling that I’d felt inside the hoarder’s house. Grace was an unconventional collector, for sure, but a hoarder? I didn’t think so. But now, seeing this room, this Library Suite in which I would be living for the next seven days, I was beginning to think twice.
    Still, the room was beautifully furnished, large, and, most of all, clean. There was no scent of mustiness, either. A hint of mustiness could be charming in a hole-in-the-wall used bookstore on Green Street in San Francisco, but not in a bedroom in which I would be sleeping for a week.
    So here I was in a clean, charming bedroom with lots of books and even a small couch on which I could relax in quiet comfort.
Why am I complaining?
I wondered. And right then and there I made a decision to be grateful and enjoy this room with all its books and nooks and crannies and quirkiness.
    When Grace had called to invite me to her birthday party, she’d asked if I wouldn’t mind doing some bookbinding work while I was here. I had immediately agreed and had packed my travel set of tools and repair supplies. I was always happier when I was busy with books. Grace not only wanted some repairs made but had also asked me to check out and oversee the library archivistshe’d hired recently to catalog her extensive collection of books.
    Glancing around the room now, I realized what a huge job it would be. Heck, it would take more than a week to catalog this one bedroom alone. The archivist and I had our work cut out for us.
    Grace was watching me, so I flashed her a genuine smile as I gave the walls one more glance. “Thank you so much. I know I’ll have a wonderful time here.”
    She seemed pleased as she nudged her glasses up her nose. “Now, the library is just down the hall, so you can come and go without disturbing anyone else in the house. Most of the other guests are in the second- and third-floor bedrooms, but I didn’t think you’d mind being on the first floor.”
    I was determined to ease her worries. “I don’t mind at all. This couldn’t be better. You know me. Can’t get enough books, right?”
    She laughed, a sweet trilling sound completely incongruous with her geek-dynamo personality, but charming. “I’ll let you get settled. And I’ll tell you what I’ve told everyone else. I want you to feel free to explore the whole house. I know you’ve been here before, but you’ve never had the full tour. You’ve got to see some of the other rooms. There are many surprises.”
    “I can’t wait. I’ve heard about some of them,” I said. On the drive earlier, Vinnie had given me a hint of some of the more bizarre features of this gigantic fun house.
    “Oh, good.” She rubbed her hands together gleefully. “If I were you, I would start with the conservatory. We have a marvelous collection of exotic flora and it’s such a soothing, pretty space. But when you get tired of all that peace and quiet, the game room is not to be missed. It’s so much fun.”
    “That’s what Suzie said.”
    “Suzie loves the game room. And the music room is pretty special if you’re into musical instruments. We havea three-hundred-year-old harpsichord that still sounds beautiful. And we can supply a complete wind and brass section for anyone who’s in the mood to jam. And percussion, of course. Every noisemaker you can think of.” She laughed, then added, “Or you can just have a seat and watch things happen. There’s a player piano, but I’ve also rigged some puppets to play saxophone and guitar. It’s a total blast.”
    She had morphed into an excited young gamer. “It sounds awesome,” I said. “I can’t wait to do some exploring.”
    “It’s an adventure, for sure.” She took a breath and appeared to remember she was a grown-up. Grabbing my arm, she strolled with me to the bedroom door. “We’re all meeting for cocktails at five o’clock in the Gold Salon. That’s up the grand stairway. Turn left and go halfway down the hall. It’s on the north side of the house, overlooking the lake. I drew a map for everyone and left one on your nightstand.”
    “Oh, thanks. I think I remember how to find the grand staircase, but after that I’m lost.”
    She chuckled. “Ruth dubbed it the grand stairway when she first saw it and we’ve called it that ever since. It’s just the main staircase off the front door.”
    “I remember.