Миранда Джеймс - Arsenic And Old Books

Most of what I read was not particularly interesting, at least to me. Rachel spent a lot of time on the minutiae of clothing and her criticisms of the neighbors. One example of the latter I did find amusing:

Andromeda McCarthy (and what a pompous name that is, makes her sound like a bluestocking, and she is just a sweet girl of ordinary intelligence who doesn’t care for reading) wore a gown of the most unfortunate peach satin today during the call she and her mother made here. Andromeda does not have the complexion for peach, being far too pale, but I fear it is her mother who insists upon such insipid colors.

This Rachel came across as more frivolous than the Rachel in the forged diary, and I began to wonder whether the forger had bothered to read the original volumes at all. The section I was reading was for the months before the war began in earnest, and I supposed that Rachel, like many at the time, did not think the war would last long. Perhaps after she experienced the terrors and privations of war, Rachel became more mature and thoughtful.

I was tempted to skip to the second half of the volume to see whether I was correct about a change in Rachel’s outlook, but I decided against it. It would be more interesting, if Rachel did change, to see it as it happened.

I set the book aside a few minutes later to give my eyes a rest and to check on my feline companion. Diesel was in his place, and I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair. I was enjoying the quiet until, a few minutes later, Melba startled me from my half doze.

“Charlie, what are you doing taking a nap up here?” Melba laughed.

I glared at her. I didn’t like to be startled like that. Then I noticed she had a large stack of mail in her hands.

“What’s that?” I said. “For your information, I was only resting my eyes.”

“Okay,” Melba said as she approached my desk. “I hope your eyes are rested, then, because you’ve got a pile of mail to get through.” She set her stack in the tray on my desk. “When was the last time you checked your box in the mailroom?”

“Last week,” I muttered. “I do remember to check it at least once a week, sometimes twice, but this week has been anything but normal.” I reached for the pile, picked it up, and set it on the desk in front of me.

Melba made herself comfortable in the chair across from me while I sorted through the mail. “Anything new on the murder you can talk about?”

“No, not really,” I said.

There was one large campus mail envelope, and I pulled it out of the pile. I checked the front and saw that the envelope had last been used to send something to a history faculty member. These envelopes were multiuse and traveled across the campus and back many times.

I opened the envelope and reached in to extract the contents. Felt like several pages bound together with a paper clip. When I had them out of the envelope and on the desk in front of me, I nearly fell out of my chair from the shock.

THIRTY-THREE

I recognized the handwriting and the paper itself. These had to be the pages missing from Rachel Long’s diary. I stared at them for a moment before I realized there was a handwritten note paper-clipped to the pages.

“What is it, Charlie?” Melba sounded slightly alarmed. “You’re white as a sheet.” She had a hand on Diesel’s head. I hadn’t even heard or felt him get down from the window and go around to her.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. “These are pages that were taken out of the diary. They’ve been missing, and we had no idea where they were.” My eyes skimmed the note attached to them. “Oh my Lord, this is a note from Marie Steverton.”

“What does it say?” Melba asked.

“‘You’ll know what to do with these’ is all it says, along with her initials.” I shook my head, still a bit in shock. What had compelled her to send the pages to me?

Melba shivered. “That’s creepy, getting a letter from a dead woman. What are you going to do with them?”

I had trouble focusing my thoughts for a moment. The first thing I wanted to do was start reading the pages to find out why Marie had removed them from the diary. I realized, however, that they constituted evidence, and my first duty was to inform Kanesha of their return.

I picked up the phone and called her. This time, however, I had to leave a message. I made it terse and urgent.

For some reason I felt tense and almost panicky. Diesel picked up on that. He came around to me and put a paw on my leg. He meowed loudly several times, and I forced myself to breathe deeply and relax to keep from upsetting him.

“Charlie, you don’t look good. Are you sure you’re all right?” Melba got up from her chair.

I waved her back before she could come around and start fussing over me. “I’ll be okay, just a little concerned about all this. We can’t let anyone else know I have these pages.”

“You’re acting like they’re going to explode any minute,” Melba said. “Maybe you’d better go lock them up next door.”

“They do need to be put somewhere safe,” I said. I began to feel a bit calmer, thanks to her pragmatic suggestion. “I’ll do that right now.” I put the pages carefully back into the envelope. “You stay here with Diesel and answer the phone.”

Melba nodded, and I hurried to the storeroom next door. I would feel better once the pages were locked away in a more secure place. I didn’t know how long it would be before Kanesha could come back or send one of her men to retrieve them. Until I could safely turn them over to the sheriff’s department, I wanted them out of reach of anyone who might come into the archive.

“Mission accomplished,” I told Melba and Diesel when I returned to my office.

“Good. Maybe you can relax now,” Melba said. “You had me worried there for moment, like you were going to pass out on me.”

“Sorry about that,” I said as I resumed my seat behind the desk. “Getting those pages out of the blue like that was shocking.”

The phone rang and startled me. I picked up the receiver, praying that Kanesha was returning my call.

Thankfully for my nerves, it was her. I didn’t give the chief deputy a chance to speak. “I’ve got the pages locked up in the storage room next door. Please come get them right away.”

“One of my deputies is on the way there now,” Kanesha said. “Here’s what I want you to do. Handle them with extreme care, but scan those pages. Ordinarily I would take them right away, but I want to have a backup copy. Wait until my deputy is there, though. When you’re done with them, he’ll bring them in to the sheriff’s department.”

“All right,” I said. “I can do that.”

“Thank you,” Kanesha said. “Send me a copy of the scan. You have my e-mail. Go ahead and read the pages and I’ll do the same as soon as I get the file.”

“Will do,” I said and then ended the call.

I didn’t know why I was so jittery, but talking to Kanesha helped me feel calmer. I didn’t expect the mayor to come to my office, waving a gun around, threatening me unless I turned the pages over to her. I was simply on edge because of the events of the past few days, I decided.

I relayed the news to Melba. She nodded vigorously.

“Good, the sooner all this crazy mess is settled, the better.” She stood. “Unless you want me to hang around until that deputy gets here, I guess I should get back downstairs.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay,” I said. “The deputy should be here any minute.”

“All right. See you later.” Melba gave Diesel’s head one last quick rub and headed for the door. Diesel meowed after her and watched for a moment before he came back and climbed onto the windowsill.