Arsenic And Old Books

I kept running these and other questions through my brain while I waited for Stewart to arrive. The frustration from not being able to find answers was building, and I knew before long I would have a headache from the tension.

Stewart’s arrival came as a welcome interruption. “Hi, Charlie,” he said from the doorway. “Here I am, and I have a companion with me.”

Diesel trotted into the room ahead of Stewart and came around the desk to sit by me. He looked up at me and meowed.

“Your companion has been naughty,” I said. “He sneaked out of here while I was busy and went down to see Melba.”

“Oh, Diesel, you are a bad boy.” Stewart chuckled as he made himself comfortable in the chair across from me.

I looked down at the cat and frowned. “You shouldn’t do things like that.”

Diesel meowed and placed a large paw on my leg. For him, this probably constituted an apology. I patted his head. Reassured, he climbed into the window behind me and stretched out.

I turned to Stewart, who looked as neatly groomed and fresh as always. I wished I knew how he managed to stay that way, even in the heat of a Mississippi summer.

“Thanks for coming by,” I said. I waved a hand to indicate the volumes of Rachel Long’s diary on my desk. “I need your help with these.”

Stewart quirked one eyebrow. “Are they old chemistry books? Otherwise, I’m not sure I’d be of much help.”

“They’re not,” I said, “but it’s your expertise in chemistry that I need.” I tapped the suspect volume lightly. “I think this one is a fake, and I’m hoping you can tell me if I’m right.”

“What are they?” Stewart asked.

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” I said. “These are diaries written by Rachel Afton Long around the time of the Civil War.”

“Long?” Stewart said. “As in our esteemed mayor’s husband’s family?”

I nodded. “Yes. Mrs. Long brought four of the diaries to me on Monday. She found them in a trunk in the attic and wanted them added to the Long collection here in the archive. Later she brought me a fifth one.” I held it up. “She said she found it in the same trunk, but hidden in a false bottom.”

“What makes you think it’s a fake?” Stewart asked.

“The contents,” I said. “From what I can see, the paper, the ink, and the handwriting are similar. But the time period covered in this volume is also covered in one of the original four Mrs. Long brought.”

“Tell me the whole story,” Stewart said. “I’ve got time, and before I get involved with this, I want to know what’s really going on.”

That was a fair request. I gave him the salient facts as I saw them. When I finished, he shook his head. “The Longs have always been snobs, but this really takes the gâteau.” He shifted in his chair. “Do you think the mayor ran Marie down, then?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m really not sure how the murder fits into this mud-slinging scheme. Unless Marie managed to figure it out and threatened to expose it.”

“I’ll leave that up to you and your buddy Kanesha.” Stewart grinned. “Have you told her yet that you think you’ve got a fake on your hands?”

“No, I haven’t. I wanted to have some kind of evidence before I tell her and suggest she send it for a more thorough investigation.”

“And that’s where I come in.” Stewart looked thoughtful. “I’m sure you don’t want me to do anything to harm the integrity of these books. Probably the easiest thing would be for me to examine the paper and ink with the microscope.”

“What would that tell you?” I asked.

“I can compare the fibers in the paper, to start with,” Stewart replied. “Then I can look at the ink, see how it has bonded with the paper, for example. If one was written back during the Civil War and the other one only recently, there will be noticeable differences.”

I forestalled him before he launched into a more technical explanation. “If you do find these differences, then I’ll feel more confident about calling Kanesha and telling her what I suspect. When will you be able to do it?”

Stewart smiled. “I don’t have class this afternoon, so I can work on it now. I’ll take the suspected fake and one of the others and compare them.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate this,” I said. “I’ve got a box here you can take them in.” I put the suspected fake and the final volume of the four original ones into the box for him.

“I’ll bring them back when I’ve finished,” Stewart said. “Shouldn’t take too long if I can get into one of the labs and find the appropriate tools available. This time of the semester the labs are pretty full.”

Diesel warbled and trilled a good-bye as Stewart left. He called a farewell to the cat before he disappeared into the hallway.

I turned in my chair to regard the cat. Diesel gazed sleepily at me. He meowed, and I rubbed his head.

“I can’t stay mad at you for long,” I told him. He purred and pushed his head against my hand. “I’m going to have to pay more attention, though.”

Diesel settled down after a bit more love, and I tried to focus on what I needed to do next. I had to keep busy or else I’d be staring at the phone every other minute, silently urging Stewart to call.