I had to lean him against the wall while I inserted the key card in the lock. He managed to lurch in on his own, and I followed him to make sure he didn’t fall and bang his head against something, such as the sharp corner of a desk.

His suite was more lavish than Eagleton’s, I thought, but I didn’t have much time to examine the furnishings. Betts tripped near the sofa and fell headlong onto it. I rushed forward to catch him, but he hit the cushions before I could reach him.

His face, fortunately for him, hit one of the cushions, but his arm flopped over the end table and knocked the lamp to the floor with a muffled thud. The luxurious carpet softened the blow, and the lamp remained intact.

“What was that?” Betts raised his head for a moment, then it dropped back down before I could answer.

I couldn’t leave him prone on the sofa. He might suffocate like that. I managed to turn his body so that he was on his back, head on a cushion, and legs stretched out. He started snoring, and I figured the best thing now was to let him sleep it off.

I restored the lamp to the end table and was about to leave when I noticed how cold it was in the room. I had better find a blanket for Betts; otherwise he might take a chill if he didn’t wake up soon to find one for himself. I found the bedroom and rummaged in the closet. As I expected, there was a spare blanket on the shelf.

Back in the living room, I unfolded the blanket and covered Betts with it. I turned, ready to go, when I spotted the dining table on the other side of the room.

There were seven or eight stacks of books atop the table, and I simply couldn’t resist going over to see what they were. Typical of bibliophiles like me, even though Betts might consider it snooping. He owed me this much, I figured.

The piles consisted of Veronica Thane books, as I’d expected. Beautiful copies, too. Pristine-looking jackets protected by Mylar covers. I bent to read the spines of the first stack.

Several of the titles were in languages other than English. I recognized French and German. Was that one Swedish? I wondered.

I moved on to the next stack, turning it sideways so I could again read the spines. Midway down I spotted a copy of The Mystery at Spellwood Mansion.

I walked back over to the sofa, and a quick glance assured me that Betts was still asleep. I went back to the table and carefully pulled the copy of Spellwood Mansion from the stack.

My hands trembled slightly as I opened it from the back and found the page where the identifying error would be.