Arsenic And Old Books

“Chief Ford examined the lock on the office door,” I said as evenly as I could. “He believes the thief picked it. I always lock the door whenever I leave the office, even for a few minutes. I’m sure I did that today when I left for lunch.”

Marie looked skeptical. “Why didn’t you have them somewhere more secure, like a safe?”

“For one thing,” I said, “I don’t have a safe in the archive. I could have put them in the storage room next door. It has a better lock on it, one that’s difficult to get into.” I shrugged. “But there was no reason to. I had no reason to think someone would steal the diaries. They aren’t that valuable.”

“I guess you’re right,” Marie said. “At least about locking them up. They are valuable, though, extremely valuable. Not in terms of money, of course. To me they’re priceless.”

“I can understand that they could be valuable to your research,” I said. “What I don’t get is why you’re so convinced they will be. You don’t know there’s anything interesting or worthwhile to a historian in them.”

Marie looked down at her hands. “No, I don’t know for sure, but those diaries are still the best shot I have at finally getting tenure.” Her shoulders sagged. “And now they’re gone. It isn’t fair.”

She didn’t look at me once while she spoke. Even now she appeared to be absorbed by her hands. I figured that meant she was lying about something. But what? I suspected that she had knowledge—just how, I didn’t know—of the contents of the diaries. Either that or she was gambling against less than convincing odds.

“What is it you’re not telling me?” I asked.

Her head shot up, her expression indignant. She opened her mouth to speak, then clamped it shut while I stared hard at her.

“Come on, you do know something,” I said. “Tell me.”

She took a deep breath. “You might as well know.” Her tone was grudging. “I can’t say specifically what is in those diaries, but I do have a source that gives some indication. According to the source, Rachel Afton Long had a lot to say about everything happening around her. Including less than savory things about the great families of Athena.”

Family scandals. That could explain a few things, I thought.

“What is the source?” I asked, though I had an inkling of the answer.

When Marie didn’t respond right away, I continued. “Your source wouldn’t be Angeline McCarthy Long’s memoir of her grandmother-in-law, would it?”

“You think you know everything, don’t you?” The venom in her tone didn’t surprise me. “Yes, that is my source. Angeline is pretty vague about some of the details, but she hints at an awful lot. Particularly about the juicy stuff. I figure she’s talking about things that happened during the war. Things that some of the families around here would just as soon not have come to light.”

This could explain why the copy of the memoir in the library went missing, I thought. Tomorrow one of my priorities would be searching the Long collection in the archive for a copy of that little book.

“I ran across the memoir in the online catalog,” I said. “I also found out that it has been declared lost, as of yesterday. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Why should I know anything about it?” Marie practically spit the words at me. “I told you I am not a thief. I would never steal a book from the library, and if you try to tell anyone that I did, I’ll sue you for everything you have.”

I held up my hands in a placatory gesture. “I didn’t say you stole the book. I simply asked whether you knew anything about its disappearance. For example, when was the last time you used it?”

Marie didn’t appear mollified by my words, but she answered my question. “Four or five years ago. I had mostly forgotten about it until I overheard that dinosaur Newkirk talking about the diaries with the departmental secretary a couple days ago.”

“Do you know of any other copies of the memoir? Do the Longs have one?”

Marie shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not that many were printed to begin with, and who knows what happened to them over the years. You’re the librarian. Why are you asking me? Don’t you have some database you can check?”

“Of course,” I said. “And I will check. I’m also going to talk to the mayor, because I’m beginning to think that little book might be an important clue as to what the heck is going on with the missing diaries. The sooner we can find another copy and analyze what the granddaughter-in-law wrote, the better.”

“If the diaries are destroyed, there won’t be much point.” Marie sighed. “I’m afraid we’ll never see them again.”

“That’s possible,” I replied. “Try to remain positive, though. The authorities will find them, and you’ll be able to complete your research and write your book.”

Marie didn’t appear convinced. “As long as you were giving names to the police, did you tell them about that horrible writer?”

“If you’re referring to Kelly Grimes, yes, I did. What is the beef between you two, anyway?”