A Mystery Guild Lost Classics Omnibus
Exclusive!
Mem. Ed. $14.99
You pay $0.25
The office of the university president looked like the front parlor of a successful Victorian whorehouse. It was paneled in big squares of dark walnut, with ornately figured maroon drapes at the long windows.
There was maroon carpeting and the furniture was black leather with brass studs. The office was much nicer than the classrooms; maybe I should have worn a tie.
Bradford W. Forbes, the president, was prosperously heavy—reddish face; thick, longish, white hair; heavy white eyebrows. He was wearing a brown pin- striped custom- tailored three- piece suit with a gold Phi Beta Kappa key on a gold watch chain stretched across his successful middle. His shirt was yellow broadcloth and his blue and yellow striped red tie spilled out over the top of his vest.
As he talked, Forbes swiveled his chair around and stared at his reflection in the window. Flakes of the season’s first snow flattened out against it, dissolved and trickled down onto the white brick sill. It was very gray out, a November grayness that is peculiar to Boston in late fall, and Forbes’s office seemed cheerier than it should have because of that.
He was telling me about the sensitive nature of a college president’s job, and there was apparently a lot to say about it. I’d been there twenty minutes and my eyes were beginning to cross. I wondered if I should tell him his office looked like a whorehouse. I decided not to.
“Do you see my position, Mr. Spenser,” he said, and swiveled back toward me, leaning forward and putting both his hands palms down on the top of his desk. His nails were manicured.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “We detectives know how to read people.”
Forbes frowned and went on.
“It is a matter of the utmost delicacy, Mr. Spenser”— he was looking at himself in the glass again—“requiring restraint, sensitivity, circumspection, and a high degree of professionalism. I don’t know the kind of people who usually employ you, but . . .”
I interrupted him.
“Look, Dr. Forbes, I went to college once, I don’t wear my hat indoors. And if a clue comes along and bites me on the ankle, I grab it. I am not, however, an Oxford don. I am a private detective. Is there something you’d like me to detect, or are you just polishing up your elocution for next year’s commencement?”
Forbes inhaled deeply and let the air out slowly through his nose.
“District Attorney Frale told us you were somewhat overfond of your own wit. Tell him, Mr. Tower.”
Tower stepped away from the wall where he had been leaning and opened a manila file folder. He was tall and thin, with a Prince Valiant haircut, long sideburns, buckle boots, and a tan gabardine suit. He put one foot on a straight chair and flipped open the folder, no nonsense.
“Carl Tower,” he said, “head of campus security. Four days ago a valuable fourteenth- century illuminated manuscript was stolen from our library.”
“What is an illuminated manuscript?”
Forbes answered, “A handwritten book, done by monks usually, with illustrations in color, often red and gold in the margins. This particular one is in Latin, and contains an allusion to Richard Rolle, the fourteenth-century English mystic. It was discovered forty years ago behind an ornamental façade at Godwulf Abbey, where it is thought to have been secreted during the pillage of the monasteries that followed Henry the Eighth’s break with Rome.”
“Oh,” I said, “that illuminated manuscript.”
From the book Enter Spenser by Robert B. Parker.
Whether you’re new to the popular series by Robert B. Parker or a long-time fan of the Boston P.I., brush up on the cool sleuth’s earliest adventures with our exclusive 3-in-1 omnibus, Enter Spenser.
We first meet Spenser in The Godwulf Manuscript when a university hires him to recover a rare, stolen manuscript. His only clue is a radical student with four bullets in his chest, but Spenser isn’t so sure the pretty coed whose prints are on the murder weapon is the killer. Can he finish this assignment before he gets a “D”…for dead?
In God Save the Child, everyone thinks Kevin Bartlett, a 14-year-old boy from a rich, dysfunctional family, has run away—until the ransom note arrives. Spenser’s only lead is Kevin’s friend the body builder, and he isn't talking…except with his fists. But when a boy’s life is on the line, Spenser can speak that language too.
Is Red Sox pitcher Marty Rabb throwing fast balls or throwing games? And who’s the blackmailer out to wreck his loving wife’s life? In Mortal Stakes, it doesn’t take long for Spenser to link Marty’s performance with Linda's past—or to find himself trapped between a crazed racketeer and an enforcer toting an M-16.
Hardcover: 480 pages
Publisher: Dell Pub. Co., Inc./Div., Random House ( January 01, 1973 )
Item #: 51-8863
ISBN: 9781616646066
Product Dimensions: 5.5 x 8.25 x 1.062 inches
Product Weight: 16.0 ounces

I love these hardcover collections. Please release more Spenser novels; there are still some I don't have. Also, how about Clive Cussler, Lee Child or J D Robb. I'm sure others have some suggestions, and I hope they will be considered. One day, I may even have the Matt Helm series!
Reviewer: greg
So Happy that I now have a chance to have Parker's first books in hardback. I have read and re-read my paperbacks until the pages are falling out. I hope that you will continue with these omnibuses until I have ALL of his books in Hardback. Thanks again from ALL Robert B Parker fans!
Reviewer: Jan R
I will miss opening the emails from the Guild and seeing a new book from Robert L. Parker, coming soon. He will be so missed by his fans. RIP Mr. Parker and all of your characters, and your sense of humor will be missed.
Reviewer: Karen D
I believe I read all these when I decided to go back and read all the Spenser books in order, to watch the progression. I'm looking forward to re-reading. RIP, Spenser & Hawk and Susan.
Reviewer: Eleanor
Not exactly a review, but I'm jazzed to see this selection. You clearly state that they're early works, and they are three I have not read. I can't wait!! I love his style! RIP
Reviewer: Kitty L