Arsenic And Old Books

Word has reached us that our wretched neighbor, Mr. Jasper Singletary, has once again fallen ill with his heart troubles. Though he is certainly the most quarrelsome and obstinate creature that Our Dear Lord ever placed upon this earth, I cannot wish him to suffer, for then his poor wife and children will have even less. I have upon occasion visited with Mrs. Vidalia Singletary, and she is a sweet but timid creature, and I fear that she is used most roughly by her husband. Mr. Singletary would no doubt suffer another fit of apoplexy were he to discover that I have sometimes taken food to give to his wife. I cannot bear the sight of those wretched little children with their bony knees and dirty faces.

I sat back and rubbed my eyes, already tired from gazing at the screen so intently for more than thirty minutes. This last entry certainly showed Rachel Long in a positive light. Her charitable interest in the Singletary children spoke well of her, and there was no indication thus far that she bore the least ill will toward the family.

Diesel saw me stretching, and he stretched as well. I got up from the chair and walked back and forth between the desk and the door a few times. The office phone rang while I was walking.

“Hello, Charlie,” Kanesha Berry said. “I have some news for you. I’m pretty sure I know who took those diaries from your office.”

TWENTY-FOUR

“The evidence isn’t conclusive yet,” Kanesha went on after a brief pause. “I’m satisfied, though. I’d already figured Marie Steverton as the thief.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” I responded. Marie was one of two obvious candidates, the other being Kelly Grimes. “You obviously have some kind of proof. Can you tell me what it is?”

“As long as it doesn’t go any further,” Kanesha said.

“Of course,” I replied, a bit nettled that she even felt the need to mention it.

“Maybe you remember I mentioned we found a canvas bag in the street with the body,” Kanesha said. “There was residue in it from something, and I suspected it was flakes from the binding of those diaries.”

“Was it?”

“Yes, the flakes match, although the report isn’t official yet.”

“You’re sure the bag belonged to Marie?” I asked. I couldn’t resist needling her slightly in return for her earlier question.

“Had her name embroidered on a tag inside,” Kanesha said.

“I wonder why the person who took them from Marie left the bag behind.” I paused as another thought struck me. “Have you made any progress on finding the car that ran Marie down?”

“Nothing significant,” Kanesha replied. “The neighbor who saw the car disappearing wasn’t close enough to read the license plate number or really tell what make and model it is. All he could come up with was large and dark. And that it was a car, not a pickup.”

“Was there any damage to the car?” I asked.

“Pretty likely,” she said. “We found fragments that might have come from the vehicle. Also there will probably be minute paint fragments on the deceased’s clothing. They might even be able to figure out a make and model from that. In the meantime, we’re considering all possibilities.”

“That’s good. Do you have any idea when they’ll be finished with the diaries and I can get them back?”

“You should have them in your hands sometime Friday afternoon,” Kanesha said. “The mayor really pulled some strings, because they made this investigation a top priority.”

I couldn’t tell from her tone whether Kanesha was impressed or annoyed by this exercise of political heft.

“I’ll be glad to have them back,” I said. “In the meantime I finished scanning the volume the mayor brought the other day. I’ve been reading it, and it’s interesting.”

“Found a motive for murder yet?” Kanesha asked. This time I interpreted her mood easily—skeptical.

“Not yet.” I wished I could share Singletary’s tragic story with her, but I’d given my word.

“Give me a call if you do.” Kanesha ended the call.

I put the receiver down and turned back to the computer. Diesel warbled, and I focused on him instead. He batted a paw toward my arm, and I recognized the demand for attention. I stroked his head and along his back a few times. He meowed loudly, and I also recognized that sound. He was hungry.