Miranda James - The Silence of the Library

“That’s too bad,” Helen Louise said. “Speaking of Sean, any movement in the stalemate between him and Q.C.?”

“Not as far as I know.” I shook my head. “Sean inherited every ounce of my stubbornness and more besides. They’ll work it out eventually.”

“I hope so, because he and Alexandra are so good for each other, I think.” Helen Louise sighed.

I had to laugh. “Yes, she’s as stubborn as he is, and maybe they’ll wear each other down a bit and learn how to compromise.”

“Back to Eugene,” Helen Louise said. “We wandered off track again.”

“Kanesha picked up the wig and waved it in front of him, and that shut him up. He was mad, though, and I thought any minute he’d start hopping up and down like a temperamental child.”

“Where was his mother during all this?”

“Sitting in a patrol car out in the parking lot. The phone call was a ruse to separate her from Eugene. She walked out to the front desk, where a deputy waited for her. He hustled her out before she could cause a commotion. Apparently the minute he got her in the car, she started crying. She was terrified of Eugene because she never expected him to kill anyone. At least, that’s what she told Kanesha later.”

“Poor woman. I guess they needed money pretty badly, or surely she wouldn’t have gone along with a crackpot scheme like that.”

“They had Mrs. Cartwright’s social security and some investment income, but Eugene couldn’t hold a job, and Marcella couldn’t, either. They could get by, but just barely.” I explained how the plot of The Mystery at Spellwood Mansion mirrored the current situation, including the bogus Mrs. Eden, who turned out to be a penniless, greedy cousin of the real Mrs. Eden. Then I laughed. “Veronica actually snatched the wig off the impostor’s head to expose her. I thought about doing that to Eugene, but it wasn’t necessary.” Helen Louise laughed, too.

Diesel raised his head and yawned. He stretched and turned on his back, exposing his belly. That was a clear signal that Helen Louise and I should rub it. Of course, we did as we were trained to do. A rumbling purr rewarded our ministrations.

“Thank the Lord they hadn’t murdered poor Mrs. Cartwright after all.” Helen Louise shook her head.

“I don’t think Marcella would have allowed that,” I said. “She truly loves her mother, though she is worn down from having to care for her.” I had to chuckle. “Kanesha said that when the two deputies executed the search warrant and went through the house, Mrs. Cartwright and Yancy Thigpen were in an upstairs bedroom playing poker.”

Helen Louise snorted with laughter. “They didn’t have any idea what was going on?”

“Not a clue,” I said. “Yancy Thigpen was spending time with one of her clients, completely oblivious to the plot Eugene was carrying out. Even when Eugene insisted on parking her car in an old barn behind the house she didn’t think much about it or how odd that was.”

“Almost straight out of The Mystery at Spellwood Mansion .”

“That’s what tipped me off to the truth,” I said. “I was rereading it during all this, and it finally dawned on me what was going on.”

“How is Mrs. Cartwright doing?” Helen Louise asked. She continued to rub Diesel’s belly, and the rumbling increased in volume.

I had to raise my voice slightly. “Physically she’s in pretty good shape for a centenarian. She has trouble walking and standing for long. In a way, she’s pretty sharp mentally, too.” I paused. “Only thing is, she believes she’s Veronica Thane.”

“Seriously?” Helen Louise sounded skeptical.

“Absolutely.” It sounded weird to me, too, but the mind is a strange and wonderful thing. “Evidently she chatters about her adventures in solving mysteries, and Lucy and Artie are as real to her now as they were when she first wrote the books.”

“I guess she’s happy anyway. Who’s going to look after her?”

“For the time being, Yancy Thigpen. Kanesha told me she thought Marcella might get off with probation. She didn’t know Eugene had murdered Carrie Taylor, and given the circumstances with Mrs. Cartwright’s age and so on, Kanesha thinks the judge will be lenient.”

“Eugene, on the other hand . . .” Helen Louise sighed.

I knew exactly what she was thinking. Eugene faced years in prison, if not the death penalty.

“One good thing, though,” I said. “Those manuscripts turned out to be real. Mrs. Cartwright wrote them years ago. Winston Eagleton is working with Yancy Thigpen on a deal to publish them, along with the rest of the series. Gordon Betts and Della Duffy are going to put up the money. I don’t know exactly how that’s all going to work, with Mrs. Cartwright thinking she’s Veronica Thane, but I think her agency will work it out.”

“That would be wonderful. Money for Mrs. Cartwright, and for poor Marcella.”

“Mrs. Cartwright could live for several years more,” I said. “Like I said, she’s supposed to be in pretty good shape physically, for her age. She’s not able to do the event at the library, obviously, so we’ve cancelled that. The exhibit of juvenile mysteries will go on as planned, though.”

“I’m glad it’s all over, and no one else got hurt. I am so sad about Carrie Taylor, though.”

“Me, too.” I sighed heavily. “She had that same picture in her files—the one with Marietta Dubois and Mrs. Cartwright—along with other photos and a few letters signed by Mrs. Cartwright. Eugene was terrified Carrie Taylor would figure it out, and he killed her to get the files. He went in as Eugene and came out as Mrs. Cartwright. Eugene trying to be clever.”

“In the end, though, you were smarter.” Helen Louise leaned over and kissed my cheek.

“I suppose,” I said. “But Veronica Thane helped. If I hadn’t been rereading the book, I might not have cottoned on to the deception.”

Helen Louise covered her mouth as she yawned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed.” She held Diesel as she shifted out from under him, then moved him off my lap onto the sofa beside me.

I stood and drew her to me for a kiss. “Me, too. You go on. I’ll be there in a minute.”

She grinned and blew me a kiss before she left the room.

I looked down at Diesel, stretched lazily out on the sofa. “You have to stay here, boy.”

He warbled once. Then, I would have sworn, he winked at me.

AFTERWORD

Many adult mystery readers look back with fondness to the teen detectives they read as children and young adults. I discovered Nancy Drew when I was about ten, thanks to a cousin who had a few of the books. I picked up The Secret of Shadow Ranch (the revised version) and couldn’t put it down. I was hooked.

I read every Nancy Drew book I could find, and I discovered there were many other series: Trixie Belden, the Dana Girls, Judy Bolton, the Hardy Boys, Ken Holt, Cherry Ames, Vicki Barr, and the Three Investigators, to name some of my favorites.

Many of these books are collectible today. There are thousands of copies of Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books for sale on popular auction sites, and there are Internet groups who routinely discuss the books and the fine points of collecting them.

I am indebted to Jennifer Fisher, Nancy Drew expert extraordinaire, for her willingness to answer questions. She bears no responsibility for anything I might have gotten wrong, however. I have also learned much online from James and Kim Keeline. James in particular is amazingly knowledgeable about Edward Stratemeyer and the Stratemeyer Syndicate, without whom the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew would never have existed.

If readers are interested in finding out more about the groups devoted to various teen detectives, go to the Yahoo Groups website and search on the name of your favorite sleuth. There’s probably at least one group for each of them.