Perhaps you should start thinking early retirement.
I looked at him.
Face it, he said. Im not raising the rent because Im out to get you. Believe me, its nothing personal. Your rents been a steal since before you even bought the store. Some idiot gave your buddy Litzauer a thirty-year lease, and the escalators in it didnt begin to keep pace with the realities of commercial real estate in an inflationary economy. Once I get you out of here Ill rip out all that shelving and rent the place to a Thai restaurant or a Korean greengrocer, and do you know what kind of rent Ill get for a nice big space like this? Forget ten-five. Try fifteen a month, fifteen thousand dollars, and the tenantll be glad to pay it.
But what am I supposed to do?
Not my problem. But Im sure there are places in Brooklyn or Queens where you can get this kind of square footage at an affordable rent.
Who goes there to buy books?
Who comes here to buy books? Youre an anachronism, my friend. Youre a throwback to the days when Fourth Avenue was known throughout the world as Booksellers Row. Dozens of stores, and what happened to them? The business changed. Paperback books undermined the secondhand market. The general used-book store became a thing of the past, with the owners retiring or dying off. The few who are left are on the tail end of long-term leases like yours, or theyre run by canny old codgers who bought their buildings outright years ago. Youre in a dying business, Mr. Rhodenbarr. Here we are on a beautiful September afternoon and Im the only customer in your shop. What does that say about your business?
I guess I ought to be selling kiwi fruit, I said. Or cold noodles with sesame sauce.
You could probably make this enterprise profitable, he said. Throw out ninety-five percent of this junk and specialize in high-ticket collector items. That way you could make do with a tenth the square footage. You could get off the street and run the whole operation out of an upstairs office, or even out of your home. But I dont want to tell you how to run your business.
Youre already telling me to get out of it.
Am I supposed to support you in a doomed enterprise? Im not in business for my health.
But, I said.
But what?
But youre a patron of the arts, I said. I saw your name in the Times last week. You donated a painting to a fund-raising auction to benefit the New York Public Library.
My accountant advised it, he said. Explained to me how Ill save more in taxes than Id have made selling the painting.
Still, you have literary interests. Bookstores like this one are a cultural asset, as important in their own way as the library. You can hardly fail to appreciate that. As a collector
An investor.
I pointed at B Is for Burglar. An investment?
Of course, and a hell of a good one. Women crime writers are a hot item right now. Alibi was less than fifteen dollars when it was published a dozen or so years ago.
Do you know what a mint copy with dust jacket will bring now?
Not offhand.
Somewhere around eight-fifty. So Im buying Grafton, Im buying Nancy Pickard, Im buying Linda Barnes. I have a standing order at Murder Ink for every first novel by a female author, because how can you tell whos going to turn out to be important? Most of them wont ever amount to much, but this way I dont have to worry about missing the occasional book that jumps from twenty dollars to a thousand in a few years time.
So youre just interested in investment, I said.
Absolutely. You dont think I read this crap, do you?
I pushed his credit card across the counter, followed it with his drivers license. I picked up his check and tore it in half, then in half again.
Get out of here, I said.
Whats the matter with you?
Nothings the matter with me, I said. I sell books to people who enjoy reading them. Its anachronistic, I know, but its what I do. I also sell them to people who get satisfaction out of collecting rare copies of their favorite authors, and probably to a few visually oriented souls who just like the way good books look on the wall flanking the fireplace. I may even have a few customers who buy with an eye toward investment, although it strikes me as an uncertain way of providing for ones old age. But I havent yet had a customer who was openly contemptuous of what he was buying, and I dont think I want that kind of customer. I may not be able to pay the rent, Mr. Stoppelgard, but as long as its my store I ought to be able to decide whose check I take.
Ill give you cash.
I dont want your cash either.
I reached for the book, but he snatched it away from me. No! he cried. I found it and I want it. You have to sell it to me.
The hell I do.
You do! Ill file suit if I have to. But I wont have to, will I? He got a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet, slapped it on the counter. You can keep the change, he said. Im taking the book. If you try to stop me youll find yourself charged with assault.
Oh, for Gods sake, I said. Im not going to fight you for it. Hold on a second and Ill get you your change.