Pryor, Mark - Hugo Marston 01 - The Bookseller by Pryor Mark

Author:Pryor, Mark [Pryor, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781616147099
Publisher: Prometheus Books
Published: 2013-07-24T04:00:00+00:00

She cooked supper in the pot, a shank and several thick cuts of roast boar that had baked in its own juices and red wine for a good two hours—time that Hugo and Tom spent by the fire. They talked about Max and the book, but found themselves coming up with more questions than answers so they turned to old times and frequently just stared into the flames. Ceci moved back and forth from the kitchen, bringing fresh drinks and slices of local brebis cheese, and dropping new logs on the fire when the two men forgot to do it themselves.

Once, as she was cooking at around six o'clock, Hugo wandered back to the kitchen to see if he could help, and when she declined with thanks, he stood and watched approvingly as she added onions, potatoes, and handfuls of whole garlic to the pot. When he went back to his chair by the fire, he carried the rich aroma with him.

The meal was served at a battered oak table in the kitchen and Ceci ate with them, a small wood stove pumping heat into the room. She'd put a bottle of wine and three glass tumblers on the table, and the men decided it would be impolite not to partake. A second bottle, with Ceci keeping pace, saw them through to a circle of pastry covered in crème patisserie and layered with strawberries. Night closed in around them but they didn't notice, and if they had, they would have welcomed it. No reason to go out and every reason in the world to stay in.

After they'd eaten, they moved back into the living room. Ceci offered to open another bottle of wine, but Hugo had turned pensive and his mood seemed to color theirs. He knew they had more talking to do. Or, he hoped, Ceci did. He asked what she knew about Gravois.

She frowned and thought for a moment, then told them that the man had come out of nowhere. After twelve years heading the SBP, she'd thought about retiring but didn't have enough saved and so settled in for an unopposed election and another four-year term as the union's leader. But as the election drew near, she began to hear rumblings. Not so much of discontent, she said, but of concern. And then Bruno Gravois paid her a visit.

“He was nice enough,” she said. “Polite but in that way some people have, the way that lets you know they are not always so gentlemanly. He told me that some of the bouquinistes had asked him to throw his hat into the ring.”

“Wait, was he a bouquiniste himself ?” Hugo asked.

“No. That's what was odd. That was always the tradition. I'd only run a stall for a few years, then gotten myself a part interest in a bookshop in the Third Arrondissement. But I had been a bouquiniste.”

“Interesting,” said Tom. “Did you ask him about his background? Why he of all people should be any good at the job? Or want it?”

“Of course.

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