Tower flipped the book open and pointed to the inner flap, also under plastic, where the story was summarized. "And here?"
" 'TheDogan ,' " Eddie read. " 'A thrilling tale of the old west and one Indian brave's heroic effort to survive.' So?"
"Now look at this!" Tower said triumphantly, and turned to the title page. Here Eddie read:
The Hogan
Benjamin Slightman Jr.
"I don't get it," Eddie said. "What's the big deal?"
Tower rolled his eyes. "Look again."
"Why don't you just tell me what - "
"No, look again. I insist. The joy is in the discovery, Mr. Dean. Any collector will tell you the same. Stamps, coins, or books, the joy is in the discovery."
He flipped back to the cover again, and this time Eddie saw it. "The title on the front's misprinted, isn't it? Dogan instead of Hogan"
Tower nodded happily. "A hogan is an Indian home of the type illustrated on the front. A dogan is... well, nothing. The misprinted cover makes the book somewhat valuable, but now... look at this..."
He turned to the copyright page and handed the book to Eddie. The copyright date was 1943, which of course explained the eagle and the slogan on the author-bio flap. The title of the book was given as The Hogan , so that seemed all right. Eddie was about to ask when he got it for himself.
"They left the 'Jr.' off the author's name, didn't they?"
"Yes! Yes!" Tower was almost hugging himself. "As if the book had actually been written by the author's father! In fact, once when I was at a bibliographic convention in Philadelphia, I explained this book's particular situation to an attorney who gave a lecture on copyright law, and this guy said that Slightman Jr.'s father might actually be able to assert right of ownership over this book because of a simple typographical error! Amazing, don't you think?"
"Totally," Eddie said, thinking Slightman the Elder . Thinking Slightman the Younger . Thinking about how Jake had become fast friends with the latter and wondering why this gave him such a bad feeling now, sitting here and drinking coffee in little old Calla New York.
At least he took the Ruger , Eddie thought.
"Are you telling me that's all it takes to make a book valuable?" he asked Tower. "One misprint on the cover, a couple more inside, and all at once the thing's worth seventy-five hundred bucks?"
"Not at all," Tower said, looking shocked. "But Mr. Slightman wrote three really excellent Western novels, all taking the Indians' point of view. The Hogan is the middle one. He became a big bug in Montana after the war - some job having to do with water and mineral rights - and then, here is the irony, a group of Indians killed him. Scalped him, actually. They were drinking outside a general store - "
A general store named Took's , Eddie thought. I'd bet my watch and warrant on it .
" - and apparendy Mr. Slightman said something they took objection to, and... well, there goes your ballgame."
"Do all your really valuable books have similar stories?" Eddie asked. "I mean, some sort of coincidence makes them valuable, and not just the stories themselves?"
Tower laughed. "Young man, most people who collect rare books won't even open their purchases. Opening and closing a book damages the spine. Hence damaging the resale price."
"Doesn't that strike you as slightly sick behavior?"
"Not at all," Tower said, but a tell tale red blush was climbing his cheeks. Part of him apparently took Eddie's point. "If a customer spends eight thousand dollars for a signed first edition of Hardy's Tess of the D'Urbervilles , it makes perfect sense to put that book away in a safe place where it can be admired but not touched. If the fellow actually wants to read the story, let him buy a Vintage paperback."
"You believe that," Eddie said, fascinated. "You actually believe that."
"Well... yes. Books can be objects of great value. That value is created in different ways. Sometimes just the author's signature is enough to do it. Sometimes - as in this case - it's a misprint. Sometimes it's a first print-run - a first edition - that's extremely small. And does any of this have to do with why you came here, Mr. Dean? Is it what you wanted to... to palaver about?"