Миранда Джеймс - Twelve Angry Librarians

Given Ms. O’Callaghan’s reaction to me previously, I figured I’d have a hard time getting close enough to her even to explain what I wanted to talk to her about. Still, I’d have to try.

I didn’t share these thoughts with Marisue and Randi, however. Instead I asked, “Can you tell me who else was at the party?” I picked up my phone, selected an app I often used to make notes of things I needed to remember, and waited.

“I suppose so,” Randi said, though she sounded uncertain. “I guess you’ll find out anyway in the long run.”

“Besides Randi and me,” Marisue said when Randi failed to continue, “the others were Harlan Crais, that young man with the tattoos, Bob Something-or-Other, Maxine and her friend Sylvia, Cathleen Matera, and Nancy Dunlap.”

“And Mitch Handler,” Randi added. “He’s so quiet, you probably forgot about him.”

“Yes, he was there, too,” Marisue said.

“Anyone else happen to come in while you were there?” I wondered if they remembered Lisa Krause.

They were both quiet for a moment, then Marisue said, “Yes, Lisa Krause. She wasn’t there for long, though.”

“Thanks.” I finished typing in the last name and closed the app. Now that I had the list I wondered exactly what I was going to do with it. I wanted to talk to each of them, but how should I go about it?

I knew that Kanesha wouldn’t appreciate what she might legitimately consider meddling on my part, but I could always use the excuse that the college library was the official host for the meeting. As director of the host library, therefore, I should make an effort to talk to people and get feedback on the conference.

One of my paternal grandmother’s sayings popped into my head. That’s your tale. I’m sitting on mine . My grandmother, bless her, had little patience for prevarication of any kind. No doubt my conscience dredged up that bit of folk wisdom, but despite that, I would go ahead with my plan if I could.

Marisue checked her watch. “If we want to make that session on liaison services in small academic libraries, we’d better scoot. It starts in about eight minutes.”

“Oh, gosh, yes, that’s one I really don’t want to miss a minute of.” Randi grabbed her purse and started digging in it.

I caught the attention of our server, and he came over to the table. He had the separate checks ready, and he presented each of them. Randi and Marisue charged theirs to their rooms, and I had enough cash to cover mine, along with a healthy tip.

“I think I’ll come with you,” I said as the three of us rose from the table. “That session sounds interesting.”

“Fine.” Marisue strode toward the dining room door, and Randi and I followed.

When we reached the meeting room for the session we wanted to hear, Marisue and Randi found seats near the middle of the room at the end of an aisle. I found an aisle seat several rows back. I had sensed that both women were ready to get away from me for a while, and I decided not to make more of a nuisance of myself than I needed to at the moment.

I got out my program and turned to the pages where the afternoon sessions were listed. I scanned through to see if there were any others that might interest me. Nothing stood out as particularly exciting, though there was a session on the licensing of electronic resources that was a possibility. After the afternoon sessions ended, there were no further events for the day. Programming resumed tomorrow morning, Sunday, and ran until noon, when there was a final lunch session with another keynote speaker.

Everyone had a free evening tonight. I wondered idly what they would find to do. Those who chose to venture out of the hotel had a number of excellent choices with nearby restaurants, and there were a couple of bars within walking distance.

One of the presenters called for attention, and then she began to introduce herself and the other two presenters, another woman and a man. I paid little attention to what she said, because I’d had an idea and was running through the possibilities in my mind.

The scheme was audacious, and I was nervous even thinking of it. I could imagine what Kanesha would say, but if it helped toward a solution of the double homicides, then most likely she would be willing to overlook the part I planned to play in it. I would have to do some fast work to get everything in place, but I had persons I could count on to make it work.

The more I thought about the logistics, the more nervous I became. I pulled out my phone, opened the note-taking app, and started tapping away.

Could I get this together in the next six hours or so? I hoped so, and I would have to count on the fact that Kanesha didn’t know about it in time to stop it.

I was going to have a party in honor of the memories of Gavin Fong and Maxine Muller, and my guests would be everyone who attended Gavin’s party on Thursday night. I figured getting them all together in one place again could yield interesting results.

Results that might lead to the arrest of a double murderer.

TWENTY-THREE

I was so caught up in my fantasy of playing Hercule Poirot, bringing all the suspects together in the drawing room for the big revelation scene, that I hadn’t really paid attention to one crucial point that finally forced its way to the forefront of my consciousness.

Well, make that two crucial points.

First, one of the people in my house would be someone who had already killed twice. Someone who might still have cyanide in his or her possession.

Second, that person could easily decide to kill again, and who would be the most likely choice to play the victim?

Hercule Poirot, that’s who—otherwise known as Charlie Harris.

Sobered by these thoughts, I rapidly lost enthusiasm for my grandiose idea.

Perhaps if Kanesha and one or two deputies were on hand, that would greatly lessen the chance that the killer would strike again.

I brightened momentarily at that idea, but I realized Kanesha would never go for it. Too dangerous, she would say, and I couldn’t disagree.

So much for my big idea . I deleted the notes I’d made on the app and decided I might as well listen to the presentation going on at the front of the midsize room.

There were about forty people in a room that probably held roughly sixty, I estimated. I checked my program to see who the presenters were and what institutions they represented. I almost dropped my program when I read the names.

The one man among the three was none other than Mitch Handler, the librarian-writer Marisue and Randi had told me about earlier. Now that I finally focused on the presenters, I realized I had met one of the women two days ago. Cathleen Matera, who was talking now, had come up to me after the incident with Gavin on Thursday. She had offered to serve as a witness for me. The other woman wasn’t anyone I knew.

Cathleen Matera seemed to be nearing the end of her part of the presentation when I tuned in.

“So you can see that’s how we make the program function with a group of only five reference librarians. With the help of our colleagues from technical services—four additional librarians, as I stated earlier—we manage to make sure each academic department has a contact person within the library. Now I will turn the program over to my colleague, Mitch Handler.” She closed her presentation on the large screen on the wall and handed a device to Mitch Handler when he reached her. She sat, and Handler busied himself at the podium getting his part of the presentation up on the screen.

I thought about what Cathleen Matera said moments before about each department at her institution having a contact person in the library. Turn that around, and all the librarians had contacts in various departments at their universities.