Arsenic And Old Books

Diesel warbled and then commenced muttering. I had to grin. He had no such reservations about cursing Marie as only a cat could do.

“I agree with everything you’re saying,” I told the cat as the muttering ceased. “She is the rudest, most high-handed person I’ve had the misfortune to meet.”

I headed back to the kitchen to put the casserole in the oven to heat up. Diesel preceded me, no doubt hopeful that tidbits of chicken would be forthcoming.

“Not for a while yet, boy,” I told him as I adjusted the oven temperature. Diesel turned and walked out of the kitchen, muttering as he went.

I followed and climbed the stairs to my second-floor bedroom. Time to change out of work clothes into lounging-around duds—sweatpants, T-shirt, and bare feet. While I changed I recalled Marie Steverton’s odd remark about the mayor as she stomped her way down the sidewalk.

How could she be so certain Mayor Long would grant her request so quickly? What kind of influence could a non-tenured junior professor wield? The idea sounded nuts to me. Based on my own conversation with Mrs. Long earlier today, I doubted she and her family would want access to the diaries restricted to one person. That would be counterproductive, I thought. My take on the situation was that the Longs wanted everyone to know about the diaries for their own obscure reasons.

I padded back down the stairs. Diesel stayed on my bed. He hadn’t had a nap in nearly forty minutes, so he was overdue. I knew he would be downstairs right after I pulled the casserole out of the oven.

I couldn’t get Marie’s threat—weak as it seemed—out of my mind. What kind of connection could she have to the mayor? She had moved to Athena only six years ago. If there was any kind of dirt, though, I knew the person to ask—my old friend and coworker, Melba.

Melba Gilley and I, along with my late wife, Jackie, grew up in Athena together, and since my return home several years ago, Melba and I had reestablished our friendship. She was executive assistant to the college library director, and I saw her at least three days a week since we worked in the same building. Melba knew practically everyone in town, and if there was anything to connect Mrs. Long and Marie Steverton, she would know—or find out as quickly as possible.

I hit speed dial on my cell phone to call Melba at home. She answered after three rings.

She listened patiently as I explained the events of the afternoon and the encounter with Marie. “What kind of connection could there be between them?”

Melba laughed. “That’s easy, Charlie. They were at Sweet Briar together forty years ago. Marie may think she and Lucinda are good buddies because they went to college together, but Lucinda sure don’t tolerate fools—and Marie’s as big a fool as I’ve ever met. She always thinks she’s more important than anybody else in the room. That just goes to show how stupid she really is.”

Trust Melba to cut Marie down to size. I laughed. “Sounds like you know Lucinda Long pretty well.”

“I sure do,” Melba said. “I worked on her very first campaign as mayor, and I’ve supported her ever since. She’s done more for this town than all the good ole boys who were in office before her.”

I had to take Melba’s word for that last statement, since I hadn’t been here during the previous mayors’ tenures. I knew better than to argue with her, anyway.

“She’s not going to be paying any attention to that idiot,” Melba said. “So don’t even worry about it.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I hope the mayor’s rebuff will keep Marie out of my hair. I do not want to have to deal with her having a hissy fit every five minutes because she’s not getting her way.”

“If Lucinda can’t manage it,” Melba said, “give old Dr. Newkirk a call. He can’t stand the sight of Marie, and all he has to do is say, Leap, frog, and the head of the history department says, How high? He’ll see to it she doesn’t bug you.”

“Good to hear.” I knew all about Dr. Newkirk’s reputation, and the fact that he was a close friend of the Long family convinced me that I could be firm with Marie and not worry about it. I didn’t intend to keep her from having access to the diaries, but I certainly wasn’t going to let her take them over like they were her own property.

“Enough about Marie.” Melba chuckled. “When are you and Helen Louise going to set a date?”

I rolled my eyes, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. There was no point in getting exasperated with Melba. She was incorrigible, and she reveled in it.

“When we do, I’m sure you’ll know about it three seconds later,” I said. “The CIA could learn from you and your spy network.”

“How do you know they haven’t already?” Melba retorted. “I notice you said when we do, and not if we do. I reckon that means you’ll get around to asking her one of these days. I just hope it’s before you need a gurney to get you down the aisle.”

“You keep it up, and I won’t let you see Diesel for a week,” I said in as stern a tone as I could muster.