"Stay here," Alcander told Teajay and Eleanor, gently lowering himself into the storage room. The three of them weren't super close, but he felt they knew well enough he was not trying to coddle or patronize them. He wanted to see the crime scene first, as he had the most extensive background in investigations. Unfortunately, as he lowered himself, he realized the water damage had done more to ruin the crime scene than a bull could have. His boots touched the wooden floor with a wet smack. Under him was a soaked copy of a once-beautiful limited edition copy of Crime and Punishment. 

They did not remove the roof when it was pouring, he surmised. Otherwise they would have risked destroying whatever they wanted to find. Magic could have come into play, but the more mundane answer was likely the most probable, even considering the 'orgy of evidence' they had found on various arcane practices. The beams of light from above cut a swathe through the piles of mostly useless books and memorabilia, catching the waves of dust freely floating in the air. 

Logic dictates that they were attempting to acquire a book, unless some small nick-knack looking object was their primary target. Unfortunately he could not even begin to wade through the majority of these books, even if they were not weather-beaten. He stepped idly through the mounds of wet paper and leather, making his way to the door that led further into the building. He checked to make sure it was still locked, using a cloth to mask his fingerprints, before a dias caught his eyes. 

Alcander approached, surprised to find the auction ledger already opened. He glanced up, as if he did not already know the hole in the roof was not present above him. It was opened on page 34, with a list of dates, items, and relative locations. He looked for creases on the paper, something a man in a hurry might leave. Alcander's observant eye caught a crease and a peculiar name, simultaneously. 

"Van de Oneindige Mogelijkheden Van Inkt," He murmured, running a finger over the name. It was one of the few volumes not titled in english. His mind reached back into his years in academia, trying to decipher the words. He was no linguist, but he liked to think he had a better grasp on langauage than most people. If his hunch was right, it roughly translated to: "From...the... infinite...." He couldn't decipher the rest, and he ran a hand through his hair. They could check the translation later. Instead he checked the log, eyes scanning the location it was supposed to be stashed in. The detective turned and rummaged through the book pile that had mercifully been spared from the weather, only to realize after a minute that the search was futile. 

The Grimoire was missing. 

He strode back under the light, gazing up at the two women who still peered down. Alcander shielded his eyes from the dull light. "I think I know what they were looking for..."