I live in Oxford and I am a book collector.

Once a month I go for book shopping to London, in Cecil Court, a street packed with twenty-odd secondhand bookshops and antiquarian booksellers – a paradise for book lovers.

During my last visit, the shop owner, who knows me quite well and saves for me the most rare books gave me the impression that he was anxiously waiting for me. He allowed me to go round the shop checking one by one the newly arrived books and when I finally have chosen the ones I intended to buy he approached me quietly and asked me if it was me who have bought the old book with the title “Lady Audley’s Secret”, 1862.

Indeed I have bought it but I had no time to read it yet, I confessed, rather embarrassed.

The shop owner seemed very happy with my confession. He politely asked me if he could buy it back.

I was confused. I answered him, firmly, that I never sell my old books.

I paid and was about to leave when the door opened and a young girl rushed into the shop.

The shop owner pointed at me and the girl instantly stood in front of the door preventing me from leaving.

I was startled but also very curious. I really wanted to find out what was going on.

We sat at the back of the shop and the girl, whose late father was a friend of the shop owner, told me the following story:

Her grandmother died suddenly while she, her granddaughter, was in America for business. She came back a few months later to find a letter waiting for her.

The letter was very short, written by her grandma before she died:

She asked her to turn to page 111 of the old book “Lady Audley’s Secret”, 1862 which was at the far end on the left side of the bookcase and read the note which was hidden in there.

Ever since the granddaughter lost her sleep. There was no such book in the bookshop or anywhere in the house. In fact many of her granny’s old books were missing.
Obviously it has been stolen and probably sold to a book collector.

Was there a possibility that myself might hold the “key” to something so important for that young girl?

Without second thoughts I invited her to come with me to Oxford. I was so thrilled to find out the secret note, if indeed was in my book!

We immediately left for my hometown and within approximately two hours we were standing in front of my library. With shaking hands I handed the book to the girl.

“Lady Audley’s Secret” page 111.

Yes!!

A folded very thin paper was lying there.

“At the far end of attic there is a hidden corner. There you will find a “Music box”.

The girl was trembling…

I couldn’t leave her alone. Early next morning we headed for her grandmother’s house.

The “Music Box” was exactly were the note said.

She sat on the sofa and very slowly opened the “Music Box”.

A beautiful black velvet purse was lying in there…

At that point, I discreetly left the house…