Arsenic And Old Books

I shut down the laptop and got up to put it on the desk in the corner of my bedroom. Back in bed I lay there and stared at the ceiling. Diesel slept on beside me. I dozed off at some point, then was roused by the ringing of my cell phone.

I yawned as I picked up the phone. “Hello, love,” I said.

“You sound as tired as I feel,” Helen Louise replied. “Long day?”

“Yes, I’ll tell you about it later. How was your day? Was business good?”

“Very good,” she said. “So good, in fact, I’m thinking about expanding into that empty storefront next door. What do you think about that?”

“That’s great,” I said. “Congratulations to you for building up such a successful business. You have such a gift, not only for creating the most delicious food I’ve ever tasted, but also for creating a wonderful ambience at the bakery. It’s no wonder everyone in Athena loves it.”

“Thanks, love.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “I have to sit down with my banker and figure out the finances, but I think it’s doable. Going to be a lot more work, though, and of course I don’t want to be shut down long for the construction. I need to talk to an architect about that and see what the options are.”

“Maybe all you’ll need is a door between your space and the one next door. That should be simple enough.”

We talked about her plans for several minutes before we both began to yawn. Soon after that we bade each other good night. I promised to come by for lunch again tomorrow.

*   *   *

The next morning I was eager to get to the archive and hurried through breakfast. I didn’t know when the diaries would arrive, or who would bring them. I doubted that the person bringing them would show up before nine, but Diesel and I made it there by eight thirty just in case.

Melba’s door was closed, but she would arrive soon. Diesel and I headed upstairs. I planned to get a few things done before Melba popped up for her usual visit and before the diaries arrived.

I had neglected e-mail the past few days, and I needed to catch up. I spent half an hour responding to messages, some of which required answering questions about the archive’s collections. I also needed to make new archival boxes for the four diary volumes. When I finished that task I decided to act upon a half-formed idea I had when I woke up this morning.

My knowledge of Civil War–era Athena was sketchy at best, and I intended to rectify that. I wanted to know more about what happened here during those dark days, and I figured there might be theses or dissertations that could satisfy my curiosity. I hadn’t run across any books on the subject, but students earning degrees might have written about aspects of the town’s history.

I also debated going through the Long collection to look for letters that Rachel might have written, but decided that she would hardly have confided plans to poison the Singletary children to a correspondent.

A search of the college library’s online catalog yielded several works with the town of Athena as a subject. One of them, Athena, Mississippi, During the Civil War: A Study of Social and Political Life Under Crisis, was a dissertation by Catherine Louisa Brooke. The date of the degree was 1987, and according to the catalog the bound item was on the shelf in the library.

I considered my options and decided to ask Melba to watch Diesel while I went next door to the main library building in search of the dissertation. I knew she would be happy to have my cat to herself for a while. “Come on, boy,” I said to the napping feline on the windowsill. “Let’s go see Melba.”

Diesel perked up the moment he heard Melba’s name and slid down from the window. He scampered to the door ahead of me and was down the stairs by the time I reached the top of them. I hurried down, and as I neared the office, I could hear Melba already cooing over the cat.

“Morning, Charlie,” she said. “I was asking Diesel if he sneaked down to see me on his own.” She rubbed her hand along the cat’s spine, and Diesel chirped happily in response.

“No, we came down because I wanted to ask you to watch him while I go next door. I want to get a book from the library.”

“Of course.” She beamed at me.

“One other thing,” I said. “Someone will be returning the Rachel Long diaries to the archive today. I’m not sure exactly when, but I was told it would be this morning. Give me a shout on my cell phone if they show up before I get back, okay?”

“Sure,” Melba said. “Take your time. Diesel and I’ll be fine.”

The whole errand took me only ten minutes, and it was almost nine thirty when Diesel and I arrived back upstairs in the office. He got comfortable in his favorite spot, and I sat at my desk and opened the dissertation.

I noted that Professor Newkirk was the student’s major advisor and also that Marie Steverton had been a member of her committee. I skimmed the acknowledgments and was not surprised to see that Marie received only a bare mention.