Twelve Angry Librarians

SIXTEEN

“Party? What party?” This was the first I had heard about it.

“Sorry, I forgot you didn’t know about it.” Lisa frowned. “Gavin hosted a party in his suite last night. Not a big one, only about a dozen people maybe. I wouldn’t have known about it myself until later, except that I happened to be passing the front desk, and one of the managers called me over about eight last night. She wanted me to approve the charges Gavin had made to the room, since they exceeded the limit we had given the hotel.”

“Did Gavin order a lot of food and drink, expecting SALA to pay for it?” I was appalled by the idea. Unprofessional and downright rude behavior, not to mention totally selfish, in my opinion.

“He certainly did.” Lisa’s tone grew heated as she continued. “I couldn’t believe the colossal nerve of the guy. It put me in a difficult position, because Gavin evidently told the front desk I had given permission. They had already delivered the food and drink by the time the manager called me over to sign for the charges. I had to go ahead and sign. I tried calling the SALA treasurer, but she didn’t respond to my call or text. I found out this morning she was out to dinner and had left her cell phone in her room.”

“Have you told her about it since?” I asked.

“First thing this morning, she called me back,” Lisa replied. “She was livid, too, but she didn’t blame me. She was furious with Gavin and said she would see that he reimbursed SALA for the unauthorized expense.” Lisa threw up her hands. “But of course now SALA is stuck with the bill.”

“Yes, I’m afraid you’ll have to eat the expense,” I said. “What a jerk to do something like that. Did you confront him about it last night?”

“I went to his suite to talk to him about it, but he refused to discuss it. Said it was the least SALA could do, since he was a featured speaker. It was one of his perks, he said.”

“Unbelievable.” I sighed. “You really had a lot to put up with, having to deal with that kind of behavior.”

“Yes, I did, but I didn’t kill him over it.” Lisa looked defiant.

“No, I didn’t say you had,” I replied. “But did you tell Kanesha about this?”

Lisa’s defiant expression faded rapidly to be replaced by a sheepish one. “No, I didn’t.”

“You should have told her,” I said, “even though your part in it is probably irrelevant to the murder. She should have all the facts if she’s going to figure the whole thing out.”

“I know, you’ve told me that before.” Lisa glanced away for a moment.

I knew we were both recalling the recent events involving the murder of my predecessor as interim director. Lisa had been a part of the investigation in a small way and had, at the time, not been completely forthcoming to the sheriff’s department. I thought she would have learned her lesson with that, but evidently not.

“So you will tell her?” I asked.

Lisa nodded. “I will.”

“Good,” I said. “Now, you were in Gavin’s suite. For how long?”

“Maybe ten minutes at the most,” Lisa replied. “I saw there was no point in trying to talk to him about it, and I gave up and left.”

“Did you have time to notice who all was there?” I asked.

“I suppose,” Lisa said. “I know Maxine was there, and she seemed to be chatting with another woman. I think I heard the name Sylvia.” She paused for a moment. “That guy with the bald head, the earrings, and the tattoos was there. He’s hard to miss. I wouldn’t have the guts to walk around in short sleeves the way he does, not with that ink all the way down to his wrists.”

“He is pretty memorable,” I said. “Anybody else?”

“Right when I was leaving, two women came in. I think you know them. Marisue and Randi. I can’t remember their last names at the moment, but they’re always together at these conferences.”

“I do know them,” I said. “In fact, I had dinner with them tonight. They never mentioned Gavin’s party, though.” I found that odd. Why wouldn’t they have told me about it?

“Then there was Harlan Crais. I noticed him, because he was standing in the corner, nursing a beer, and staring at Gavin. There were a couple of other people, but I didn’t know them. I will probably recognize them when I see them again, and if I do, I’ll try to get their names. Would you like me to do that?”

I nodded. “That would be helpful, and I’m sure you’ll give them to Kanesha as well. Tell me, where were the bottles of water that Gavin had to have?”

“On a shelf underneath the bar,” Lisa replied. “Anyone could have found them there and tampered with one, I guess.”

“Yes, and my bet is that is when it happened. The killer would be less likely to attract attention. I assume everyone served themselves?”

“Yes, from what I could see,” Lisa said. “The party was a bit raucous, too. There was music playing, and people were trying to talk over it. I don’t think anyone would have thought twice about a person spending a minute or two behind the bar.”

“That will be Kanesha’s job,” I said. “She’ll have to figure out who all was there and ask them what they might have seen.”

“I didn’t go near the bar the few minutes I was there,” Lisa said. “At least I’m in the clear on that.”

“Yes,” I said. “I think there were other people who had as good a chance to tamper with the water as you, and they had more motive. Or so I would guess.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Lisa said. “You’ve made me feel a lot less scared and miserable. You’re so good at that. Sensible and kind. I wish you could stay on as director at work. That’s what everyone really wants, you know.”

“I’m very flattered by that,” I said. As much as I would have liked to tell her the job was mine if I wanted it, I couldn’t. If I decided to accept the offer, Lisa would have to find out when the rest of the library staff did.

I pushed myself out of the chair, and Diesel yawned and stretched. “Time for us to head home. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty wiped out from the day.”

Lisa laughed. “Definitely. Thanks again, Charlie. Good night, Diesel.” She showed us out, and I heard the dead bolt click when she shut the door behind us.

“I don’t know about you, boy,” I said as we walked toward the elevator, “but I’m ready to get home and go to bed.” Diesel meowed in agreement.

The moment we stepped into the kitchen, Diesel bolted for the utility room. He didn’t even wait for me to undo his harness. I felt guilty at keeping him out so late. I checked the front of the fridge but didn’t find any messages stuck there, nor were there any notes left on the table. I went on upstairs. Diesel would follow when he finished his business.

My brain felt jammed with too much information, too many impressions, from the day. My thoughts had been preoccupied with Gavin Fong’s murder, but now, in the quiet of my home, I started thinking about Laura and Frank and the decision they had to make. It was too late now to call to talk to Laura, to find out whether they had made their decision. I knew, though, she would have let me know by now if they had.

Thoughts of Laura and Frank led in turn to the decision that I had to make by Monday morning. I kept going back and forth, from no one minute to yes the next. That was ridiculous, I thought. Surely a man my age ought to know his own mind better at this stage in life.

But I didn’t. My emotions were too wrapped up, I realized, in the outcome of my children’s decision. Until I knew what Laura and Frank were going to do, I wouldn’t be able to make up my own mind completely.

That thought brought a small measure of relief to my overtired brain. Diesel ambled into the bedroom and hopped up on the bed beside me. I removed his harness, and he rubbed his head against my arm. Then he stretched out on his side of the bed, his head on the pillow.

I followed his example and soon, despite my state of mind, drifted into sleep.

When Diesel and I walked into the kitchen the next morning, we found Stewart and Haskell finishing breakfast. Haskell wore his uniform, while Stewart was in pajamas. Dante bounced forward, barking to greet Diesel. The cat meowed, and when he headed for the utility room, Dante trotted alongside him.

After an exchange of greetings, I said to Haskell, “You’re on duty today?”

He nodded. “Got called in because of the homicide at the Farrington House yesterday.”

Stewart set down his coffee cup. “What do you know about this murder, Charlie? I figure you must know something about it. Were you there when it happened?”

I poured coffee for myself while I answered. “Yes, I was there. Near the ballroom doors and well away from the action.” I took my usual seat at the table and sipped at my coffee.

“Did you know the victim?” Stewart asked.

I nodded. “Yes, I did. The guy I told you about, the one I knocked down the other day.”

Haskell checked his watch. “Sorry, got to get going. Have to meet Kanesha for a briefing in about fifteen minutes.” He rose from the table, and so did Stewart.

“I’ll be back in a minute, Charlie.” Stewart followed Haskell into the hall, and a minute or so later I heard the front door open and close.

Stewart walked back into the kitchen. “So, this guy you didn’t like was killed.”

I nodded. “I admit I loathed him, but I’m sorry he died like that.”

“I’m sorry you had to sit there and see it happen,” Stewart said. “I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I said. “I’m thankful, though, that I wasn’t anywhere near to see, well, you know.”

Stewart nodded. “That part would have been ugly.”

“I’m figuring it was cyanide,” I said. “But I can’t figure out how someone would have gotten hold of it. It’s a regulated substance, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it certainly is,” Stewart said. “A person can’t simply walk into the neighborhood drugstore and ask for it over the counter. There are chemical supply houses—that’s how we obtain the cyanide we use in the labs at work. But an ordinary person can’t order it.” He got up from the table to refill his coffee. “The killer could have stolen it from a lab, I suppose, but that wouldn’t be easy.”

“Is there any other way you can think of?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Online.”