The Devil's Moon by Peter Guttridge

murals.’
    â€˜They’re beautiful,’ Watts said.
    â€˜They are,’ Fi said. ‘But the calla lily isn’t a true lily. Nor is the arum lily. They are
zantedeschia
.’
    â€˜See what you’ve started now?’ Caspar said. ‘I was always trying to get Fi to try for
Gardeners World
back in the days when that Charlie Whatsername was jiggling her boobs. Good-looking bird but her tits weren’t a patch on Fi’s.’
    Watts smiled. ‘I believe you.’ He put the Crowley book on the table beside his chair.
    Caspar gestured at it with his chin. ‘Binding is in bloody good nick. I reckon it hasn’t been off your dad’s bookshelf almost since he got it. Sometimes that means the pages get stuck together but Crowley used expensive paper for his press.’
    He looked at Watts.
    â€˜You know the Mandrake Press was Crowley’s? The UK version of the press published quite a lot of other stuff – some interesting poetry by avant-garde poets of the time – but essentially it was a vanity publishing outfit. Over the years, he paid for the publication of pretty much every one of his hundred books. Began life a wealthy man but blew through it all.’
    Watts nodded at the book. ‘So what do you think?’
    â€˜This is the original short run US version, that’s what makes it so valuable. When war broke out he buggered off to America to get out of it. He set up the Mandrake Press again in London when he came back and reissued this some years later.’
    â€˜A bloke made me an offer in that funny occult bookshop in Great Museum Street.’
    â€˜I know the one. They get interesting stuff in there occasionally among all the tat.’
    â€˜They have to stock the tat,’ Fi said from a table where she was laying out bowls of food. ‘They’re just trying to make a living, like everybody. Everybody who isn’t living off their ill-gotten gains like you, that is.’
    â€˜It’s true enough,’ Caspar said. ‘But I worked bloody hard to get my money.’ He leered at Watts. ‘With a lot of fun on the way.’
    Watts smiled.
    â€˜This bloke – called Vincent Slattery – offered me ten thousand pounds for it.’
    Caspar whistled.
    â€˜Good money – but Vincent has always been over the top.’
    â€˜You know him?’
    â€˜Sure. I’ve done a lot of business with him down the years. When I bought Westmeston House I bought its library too. Being local he’d done the valuation and I went through the library with him when I took possession.’
    â€˜I didn’t know if you’d want to go that high?’
    â€˜As I said: I’ll match any offer you get. The money’s not a problem but I’m intrigued by Vincent. He usually only buys stuff when he’s got a purchaser in mind.’
    â€˜I don’t want to part with it quite yet anyway. I’m intrigued by the inscription.’
    â€˜Crowley calling your dad
magister
?’
    Watts nodded. ‘That, but more the
mon semblable, mon frère
. He’s got some signed Dennis Wheatley and Colin Pearson books with the same phrase in the inscription. I don’t suppose you know what it means?’
    â€˜It rings a bell,’ Caspar said after a moment. ‘But by my time of life, after all the drugs and the booze, my brain has more holes in it than a Swiss cheese.’ Caspar sipped his wine. ‘So you want to find out if your dad was secretly the Wizard of Oz?’
    â€˜Something like that.’
    â€˜Family secrets, Bob. Those skeletons in the closet are usually kept in there for a bloody good reason.’
    â€˜I’ve already rattled a few.’
    â€˜Have you?’ Caspar said, giving him an intrigued look. ‘And your father knew Colin Pearson?’
    â€˜Yes. Do you?’
    â€˜A bit. Know his wife better. They live in a big cottage at the Devil’s