The Burglar Who Studied Spinoza Read Online Free PDF

The only copy I own in English is the Everyman’s Library edition with the Boyle translation.” He moistened a finger, turned some more pages. “Quite nice. A little water damage, a few pages foxed, but quite nice for all that.” He read to himself for a moment, then closed the book with a snap. “I might find a spot for this on my shelves,” he said carelessly. “Your price, Bernard?”
    “It’s a gift.”
    “For me?”
    “If you can find a spot for it. On your shelves.”
    He colored. “But I expected no such thing! And here am I, mean-spirited enough to point out water damage and the odd foxed page as if to lay the groundwork for some hard bargaining. Your generosity shames me, Bernard. It’s a splendid little volume, the binding’s really quite gorgeous, and I’m thrilled to have it. You’re quite certain you don’t want any money for it?”
    I shook my head. “It came into the store with a load of fine bindings, decorator specials with nothing substantial between the covers. You wouldn’t believe what people have seen fit to wrap in leather down through the years. And I can sell anything with a decent binding. Interior decorators buy them by the yard. I was sorting this lot and I spotted the Spinoza and thought of you.”
    “You are kind and thoughtful,” he said, “and I thank you.” He drew a breath, let it out, turned to place the book on the table beside his empty mug. “But Spinoza alone did not bring you out at this hour. You have brought me something else, have you not?”
    “Three things, actually.”
    “And they will not be gifts.”
    “Not quite.”
    I took a small velvet bag from the attaché case, handed it to him. He weighed it in his hand, then spilled its contents into his palm. A pair of teardrop earrings, emeralds, quite simple and elegant. Abel drew a jeweler’s loupe from his breast pocket and fixed it in his eye. While he was squinting through it at the stones, Carolyn crossed to the sideboard where the liquor and pastries were laid out. She freshened her drink. She was back in her chair and her glass was a third empty by the time Abel was through examining the emerald earrings.
    “Good color,” he said. “Slight flaws. Not garbage, Bernard, but nothing extraordinary, either. Did you have a figure in mind?”
    “I never have a figure in mind.”
    “You should keep these. Carolyn should wear them. Model them for us, liebchen. ”
    “I don’t have pierced ears.”
    “You should. Every woman should have pierced lobes, and emerald teardrops to wear in them. Bernard, I wouldn’t care to pay more than a thousand for these. I think that’s high. I’m basing that figure on a retail estimate of five thousand, and the true price might be closer to four. I will pay a thousand, Bernard. No more than that.”
    “Then a thousand is the price.”
    “Done,” he said, and returned the earrings to their velvet bag and placed the bag on top of Spinoza’s Ethics. “You have something else?”
    I nodded and took a second velvet bag from the attaché case. It was blue—the one with the earrings had been the color of the doorman’s uniform—and it was larger, and equipped with a drawstring. Abel undrew the string and took out a woman’s wristwatch with a rectangular case, a round dial, and a gold mesh band. I don’t know that he needed the loupe, but he fixed it in his eye all the same and took a close look.
    “Piaget,” he said. “What time do you have, Bernard?”
    “Twelve oh seven.”
    “Mr. Piaget agrees with you to the minute.” I wasn’t surprised; I’d wound and set the watch when I took it from the safe. “You’ll excuse me for a moment? I justwant to look at a recent catalog. And won’t you help yourselves to some of those pastries? I have eclairs, I have Sacher torte, I have Schwarzwälder kuchen. Have something sweet, both of you. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
    I broke down and took an eclair. Carolyn selected a wedge of seven-layer cake with enough