Arsenic And Old Books

I caught his paw a second before he got hold of the bacon. “No, bad kitty,” I told him in a firm tone, one I knew he would recognize. “You do not take food off my plate. Bad kitty.”

I released his paw, and he stared at me for a moment. He warbled sadly, as if in apology, and I patted him on the head. I couldn’t give him the bacon now, because I didn’t want him to think he could act badly, be penitent, and then still get his way. He was like a five-year-old child sometimes.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “But you’ll have to be satisfied with your cat food this morning.” He trotted off to the utility room, no doubt in search of sustenance from his food bowls.

I pushed back my chair and stood. I gulped down the rest of my coffee. “Azalea, I’m sorry, but I can’t finish my breakfast. Not really hungry anymore.”

“I understand, Mr. Charlie,” she said. “You going to come home for lunch today? I reckon by then you’ll be feeling better and want something good to eat.”

I smiled. Azalea was always determined to keep me well fed. “Yes, Diesel and I will be home for lunch, as far as I know. If anything comes up to prevent it, I’ll give you a call.”

Ten minutes later Diesel and I left the house to walk to the college. We made it to the archive right on the dot of eight thirty. Melba wasn’t in when we went by her office, and I hoped I could put off talking to her until later in the day. Going through it all with Kanesha would be exhausting enough.

I felt sick at heart when I unlocked the archive door. The replacement lock hadn’t been installed yet, but I didn’t figure the thief would be back for anything more. She—or he—was interested only in the diaries, I was sure.

I flipped the light switch, then bent to release Diesel from his leash and harness. He went straight to the window and climbed onto the sill. I headed for my desk, and my eyes lit on four books lying on it.

I stopped, unable to believe what I saw there.

One of the four volumes of Rachel Long’s diaries without its archival box.

My legs trembled for a moment, and I couldn’t move from the spot. Then I gained control of myself and walked around the desk to sink into my chair. I continued to stare at the book.

My eyes strayed to the shelf. The other three volumes sat there as if they’d never been gone, but without the archival boxes I’d made for them.

This made no sense. Why would the thief steal the diaries one day, only to return them less than twenty-four hours later?

My mind felt stuck in a groove, with that thought going round and round. Then I realized that it was possible that the thief didn’t bring them back. Some other person might have found them and decided to return them, for reasons unknown.

I shook my head. Either way, it was bizarre.

What would Kanesha say when I told her?

Thinking of Kanesha made me realize something that had my stomach twisting in knots.

The diaries were evidence in a crime. That meant Kanesha would take them away for testing. Would the technicians who examined them treat them with the care they deserved?

For a moment I was tempted to hide the diaries and not tell Kanesha they’d been returned. That way I could go ahead and start scanning them and find out what was in them that caused all this brouhaha. When I finished, I could say I found them back on the shelves.

Then I realized that wouldn’t work, for two reasons. The first, and most important, was that I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t lie to Kanesha like that. The second was that, once the lock was changed, it would be extremely difficult for someone to get into the office to put them back. There wouldn’t be a way around that inconvenient fact that I could see.

I checked my watch—already three minutes past nine. Kanesha ought to be here any second now. I sat back in my chair and tried to relax. Hearing the purring cat behind my head helped. Happy to be in one of his favorite spots, Diesel rumbled away as he lay there and stared out the window.

A few minutes later Kanesha walked in. “Morning, Charlie.”

I returned her greeting, then said, “You’re not going to believe this.” I gestured toward the book on my desk. “The diaries are back.”

Kanesha stared at me as if she thought I’d lost my mind. She strode forward until she stood less than an inch from the other side of my desk. She looked from me to the book on my desk a couple of times.

“You’ve got all four of them?” she asked.

I nodded. “The other three are on the shelf there.” I pointed to them. “They were in archival boxes when they were taken, but they came back without them.”

Kanesha shook her head. “This is the craziest dang thing I’ve ever seen.” She pulled out her cell phone and punched in a number. After a few moments she identified herself and then gave instructions for retrieval of the diaries for forensic examination. Call completed, she put away the cell phone and found a chair.

“I know you have to take these as evidence,” I said as I resumed my own seat, “but they really have to be handled with extreme care.”