The Angel's Game (The Cemetery of Forgotten 2)

“Who would have imagined it? It’s not as if they aroused any warm feelings in me, but this … And tell me, from a legal point of view, how does it all leave you? I don’t mean to sound crude.”

“To tell you the truth, I don’t know. I think the two partners owned the company. There must be heirs, I suppose, but it’s conceivable that if they both die the company as such will cease to exist. And, with it, any agreement I had with them. Or at least that’s what I think.”

“In other words, if Escobillas, may God forgive me, kicks the bucket too, then you’re a free man.”

I nodded.

“What a dilemma,” mumbled the bookseller.

“What will be will be,” I said.

Sempere nodded, but I noticed that something was bothering him and he wanted to change the subject.

“Anyway. The thing is, it’s wonderful that you’ve dropped by because I wanted to ask you a favor.”

“Say no more, it’s already done.”

“I warn you, you’re not going to like it.”

“If I liked it, it wouldn’t be a favor, it would be a pleasure. And if the favor is for you, it will be.”

“It’s not really for me. I’ll explain and you decide. No obligation, all right?”

Sempere leaned on the counter and adopted his confidential manner, bringing back childhood memories of times I had spent in that shop.

“There’s this young girl, Isabella. She must be seventeen. Bright as a button. She’s always coming round here and I lend her books. She tells me she wants to be a writer.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“The thing is, a week ago she left one of her stories with me—just twenty or thirty pages, that’s all—and asked for my opinion.”

“And?”

Sempere lowered his tone, as if he were revealing a secret from an official inquiry.

“Masterly. Better than 99 percent of what I’ve seen published in the last twenty years.”

“I hope you are including me in the remaining 1 percent or I’ll consider my self-esteem well and truly trodden on.”

“That’s just what I was coming to. Isabella adores you.”

“She adores me?”

“Yes, as if you were the Virgin of Montserrat and Infant Jesus all in one. She’s read the whole of the City of the Damned series ten times over and when I loaned her The Steps of Heaven she told me that if she could write a book like that she’d die a peaceful death.”

“You were right. I don’t like the sound of this.”

“I knew you’d try to wiggle out of it.”

“I’m not wiggling out. You haven’t told me what the favor is.”

“You can imagine.”

I sighed.

“I warned you.”

“Ask me something else.”