Arsenic And Old Books

FOUR

I struggled to keep the irritation out of my voice when I responded to Mayor Long. “That’s okay, Your Honor. How can I help?” I imagined myself making a voodoo doll of Marie and sticking pins in it.

The mayor sighed into the phone. “This is all rather awkward, but I have been approached by an old friend—someone I went to Sweet Briar with many years ago. She has expressed an interest in the diaries I brought you earlier today.” She paused. “I understand she has already spoken with you.”

“Yes, Marie came to see me a little while ago,” I said. “She was pretty insistent that she have exclusive access to the diaries, and I had to explain to her that it wasn’t up to me.”

“I know you were within your rights to tell her that,” the mayor said. “Unfortunately Marie gets stubborn when she decides she wants something, and she doesn’t always understand that the world isn’t going to change its ways just for her.”

I responded in a dry tone. “Yes, that was my impression.”

“I’d like to help an old college friend because I know this is important to her. Frankly, she hasn’t left me much choice, but that’s neither here nor there.” She paused for a moment. “At the same time, I’m well aware of her reputation at Athena College, and that makes me a little hesitant to grant her request.”

She had probably had an earful about Marie from Professor Newkirk. According to Melba, he had little respect for Marie and her abilities as a historian.

“I see. How would you like me to handle the situation?” I wasn’t going to make this any easier for the mayor. I didn’t want to be in an awkward position myself, and I thought this decision was her responsibility. I would abide by it, whatever it was.

Mrs. Long still sounded uncertain when she replied. “My husband will want to see the diaries handled properly by qualified historians and students, and so do I. I would like to give Marie a chance, however, in light of her needs and interests. I must get this settled, because I have many other matters that require my attention.” She paused, and I waited for her to continue. “How about this as a compromise? Marie can have exclusive access to the diaries for three weeks.”

“If that is what you want, then that is what we will do,” I said. “I need to make you aware of two things, however. I work at the archive only three days a week, because that is all the library budget covers. Also, I can’t allow Dr. Steverton or anyone else to remove the diaries from the archive—unless you are willing to give permission and assume the risk. It’s possible that they might be photocopied but I can’t guarantee it.”

“The most important thing to my husband and me is that the diaries be carefully conserved.” Mrs. Long spoke firmly. “If you would be willing to work five days a week at the archive for the next three weeks, I’m sure my husband will arrange with the library director to cover the costs.”

Frankly I was surprised the mayor was going to such lengths to accommodate Marie, even if she was an old college friend. They must have been pretty close, and still might be, for all I knew. I would have to discuss this further with Melba. In the meantime, I knew the mayor was waiting for my answer.

“I can do that,” I said. “I’ll also need to let Teresa Farmer know I won’t be able to work my volunteer shifts on Fridays at the public library during those three weeks, but I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Teresa was a good friend, and I knew she wouldn’t object. I looked forward to those volunteer stints, however, and I knew the staff and patrons would miss seeing Diesel as well, since he always went with me.

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your flexibility on this.” The mayor’s gratitude sounded sincere—but with politicians, one never really knew.

“One final thing,” I said. “If Dr. Steverton’s three weeks of exclusive use could start next week, that would be most helpful. I’ll need a few days to assess the condition of each volume and do conservation work.”

“That sounds fair. Marie will abide by that; I’ll see to it. Thank you again, Mr. Harris.”

I was not in a happy frame of mind when I sat down to eat, thanks to Marie Steverton. Diesel immediately put a paw on my thigh to let me know he had waited long enough for his tidbits of chicken. I found a small piece and was about to give it to him but I noticed that the casserole included onions. They were not good for cats, so I couldn’t let Diesel have any of the chicken.

“Sorry, boy, this chicken wouldn’t be good for you.” I pushed back from the table and went to the fridge. I found a container of sliced chicken breast and popped some in the microwave to heat. “Just a minute, boy,” I said to the impatient feline now meowing piteously by my legs.

As I ate I doled out the warm chicken breast. Diesel was content, but I was not. I did not look forward to spending three weeks with Marie in my office at the archive. Her unfriendly presence would make for a tense atmosphere, and I knew Diesel would feel it and be unsettled. He would be even less happy if I left him at home those three weeks, but then I realized he could spend time with Melba instead when he needed a break from Marie. I, unfortunately, would have no such option. I would have to keep an eye on her the entire time. I didn’t feel I could trust her not to do something stupid that could compromise the state of the diaries.

Then I realized there was a further complication—Kelly Grimes. She approached me first about working with the diaries. I predicted she would be mighty annoyed to find out that Marie now had dibs on them for the next three weeks. Another situation that I did not anticipate with any pleasure whatsoever.

If Ms. Grimes was that unhappy, she would simply have to make her own appeal to Mayor Long, I decided.

Before this, I hadn’t had to deal with such a complicated situation regarding access to resources in the archive. I had students and professors come from time to time to consult documents, and once, I even had a visiting professor working there for a couple of months. I had never had people competing for the same resources, however.

It was only three weeks, I reminded myself.

Surely I could get through three weeks in close proximity to Marie Steverton without throttling her or bashing her over the head.

I finished my meal and cleared the table. Diesel wanted more chicken but I told him firmly there was no more. He stared at me for a moment before he trotted off to the utility room. I heard loud crunching noises emanating from that direction as I popped my plate and salad bowl into the dishwasher.

I felt restless. For once, curling up with a good book didn’t appeal to me. Helen Louise was busy at the bakery, and I would have to wait to chat with her until later in the evening when she had time to call. I had several hours to fill until then.

There was nothing to tempt me on television tonight. I could always watch a DVD of a favorite movie, but that didn’t appeal, either. I finally sat down in the den with my laptop and started searching the Internet for information on Rachel Afton Long. Given all the interest in her from other parties, I figured I might as well research her life before I started working on the diaries.

I started with the online catalog at the college. I had vague knowledge of the contents of the Long family collection in the archive, and I ought to acquaint myself fully with the extent of it. The catalog record had only broad headings for the contents, but there was a finding aid created by my predecessor, Miss Eulalie Estes. It had not been digitized yet, so I would have to wait to consult it when I was back in the office. There might be letters or other documents connected to Rachel, but I wouldn’t know until I delved into the collection itself.

I discovered a record in the catalog for a memoir of Rachel, however, written by her granddaughter-in-law, Angeline McCarthy Long. Privately published and part of the regular circulating collection, the memoir was only seventy-eight pages long, but it could prove helpful for background detail. Then I noticed the status of the item: Lost.

That annoyed me. There might be a copy in the Long collection in the archive, however. Out of curiosity I decided to log in to the back end of the catalog where I could see more detail about the item’s status that wouldn’t be visible to the public.

What I discovered disturbed me. The status Lost had been applied earlier today.

Simple coincidence? I wondered. Or was there something suspicious about the book’s disappearance?