Arsenic And Old Books

“Charlie, you’ll never guess who I ran into at the grocery store on the way home from work today.” Excitement bubbled in her voice.

“Let me see now. Far as I know, Brad Pitt isn’t in Athena these days. Neither is George Clooney. So I’m stumped.” Melba often rhapsodized about the many attractions of these two movie stars, and I liked to tease her when an opportunity presented itself.

“Ha-ha,” she said. “Are you going to be serious? Because if you’re not, I’m not going to tell you.” Her words sounded tough, but I knew she wouldn’t be able to hold back whatever it was.

“I’ll be good,” I said. “Who did you run into?”

“Miss Eulalie Estes,” Melba said. “She must be eighty if she’s a day, but sharp. I hope I’m in that good of a shape when I’m her age.”

I resisted the impulse to make an age-related remark. “I’m glad to hear she’s doing so well. She was pretty gracious when they basically forced her to retire and gave me the archive job.”

“It was hard on her,” Melba said. “She loved that archive, and I’ll bet she knows more about the history of Athena than anybody.”

“True,” I said. “Is that what y’all talked about?”

Melba snorted into the phone. “Yes, that’s what we talked about. I happened to mention those diaries, and she got all excited. Said she sure would love to see them for herself.”

“I’m sure she can, once they’re back in the archive. As far as I know they’ll be available to the public, and obviously Miss Eulalie would know how to handle them.”

“I really think you ought to talk to her, Charlie,” Melba said. “She’s never seen those diaries, but if there’s any kind of scandal involving the Longs, or anybody who was around in the Civil War, Miss Eulalie will know about it.”

TWENTY

I could have slapped my own face. Why hadn’t I thought about talking to Miss Eulalie before now?

“You’re right,” I said. “She’s an excellent source, and I should have considered it.”

“You’re welcome,” Melba said. “Why don’t you call her right now? You could probably go and see her tonight. She told me she’s a real night owl.”

I glanced at the clock. Nearly seven, so there was plenty of time for a visit with the retired archivist as long as she was willing. “Another good idea. Is she listed in the phone book?”

“I’d imagine so,” Melba said. “I’ll get off the phone now. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.” She hung up.

The phone book lived in a drawer in the kitchen. “I’ll be back in a few,” I told Diesel. He raised his head and yawned. He stretched before he settled down to nap again.

Although the phone book served the entire county, it was still slender. I flipped it open and looked for Miss Eulalie’s number. Sure enough, it was listed. With one finger to mark the number, I picked up the receiver of the wall phone and punched in the digits.

Miss Eulalie answered on the third ring. “Good evening, Charlie. I had a feeling you might call.” She chuckled, a light, tinkling sound.

Caller ID, of course. She wasn’t psychic as far as I knew. “Good evening, Miss Eulalie. Yes, I was just on the phone with Melba Gilley, and she encouraged me to get in touch with you.”

“Melba is a dear girl, but she does love to talk. I was afraid my lettuce would be completely wilted before I managed to get into my car and drive home.” Again I heard that fairy-like laugh. “I was excited to hear, though, about those diaries. What a treasure trove they could be.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I’m not sure how long they’ll be down at the state crime lab, but once they’re back I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“I’d appreciate it. I do so miss working with primary sources like that.” Her wistful tone touched me. I wasn’t privy to the decision that resulted in her retirement, but I did feel occasionally that I had somehow usurped her.

Her tone turned brisk. “I imagine, from what Melba said, you’re interested in the Long family’s history. I probably know as much or more about it than they do themselves, and I’d be happy to share some information with you. I have an idea or two about why there is such interest in the diaries.”

“I sure would appreciate it, Miss Eulalie,” I said. “When would be a convenient time for you?”

“How about now?” she said. “My dance card is hardly full these days, and you can satisfy your curiosity sooner rather than later.”

I laughed. “Yes, ma’am, I certainly am curious. I’d love to come over this evening. Would it be all right if I bring my cat with me? He’s not used to being left alone, but if you have any problems with it, I’ll understand.”

“Not a problem,” she said warmly. “I love cats, and I’ve heard a lot about that giant feline of yours.”

She gave me her address, and I realized she lived only a few blocks to the north of me in the same neighborhood. “We’ll be there in about fifteen or twenty minutes.”

I went back to the den and told Diesel we were going on a visit. He perked up and meowed. For a cat who spent much of his day sleeping, he did like getting out of the house.