Twelve Angry Librarians

TWENTY-SEVEN

Marisue urged me in again when I stood there for a moment, trying to process what she had told me. “Come on, Charlie,” she said. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you standing out in the hall, for Pete’s sake.”

“Oh, right.” I moved forward, and Diesel trotted in ahead of me while Marisue shut the door behind us.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Marisue waved a hand in the direction of the two small armchairs her room offered. I chose the one on the right. Diesel sat at my feet and watched Marisue as she sat in the other chair. She stretched out a hand to the cat, and he rubbed his head against it. “You are so handsome, but I bet you know that.”

When Diesel meowed in response, Marisue laughed, and I could see her visibly relax a little. She had seemed tense when she opened the door, but now she looked less so. Diesel often had that effect.

“Now, what is this you’ve heard that could solve the case?” I asked, trying not to sound impatient.

Marisue shifted her focus from Diesel to me and sat back in her chair. “I was down on the meeting room level until about ten minutes ago. You’ll be happy to know I was talking to your good friend the deputy.” She grinned. “My goodness, that woman can be more than a little terrifying, but I guess she’d have to be in her position.”

“She has to be pretty tough,” I said.

“Anyway, I finished answering her questions, and I headed back to the elevator to return here. When the doors opened, there stood the Bobbsey Twins in the middle of one of their bickering sessions. I almost let the door close to wait for the elevator to come back, but I got on anyway.”

Marisue’s reference to the Bobbsey Twins threw me. I knew all about Bert and Nan and Freddie and Flossie, because I’d read the books when I was a youngster. I knew she wasn’t talking about them, however.

“I don’t know whom you’re talking about,” I said.

Marisue grinned. “Sorry, I forgot you haven’t been coming to these meetings for years like the rest of us. You may have seen them around, two women in their late seventies, maybe early eighties? Nobody knows exactly how old they are. Virginia and Ada Lou. They always come to these meetings together, and most of the time they bicker over the craziest things.”

“Yes, I’ve met them,” I said. “Go on. What were they bickering about when you got in the elevator with them?”

“At first, I couldn’t make much sense of it,” Marisue said. “Their conversations can be incredibly oblique sometimes, you know. But then I realized they were talking about Gavin and something they’d seen or overheard involving him. That’s when I really started paying attention.”

She paused for a moment. “I get tired simply thinking about those two. So they’re talking about Gavin and an argument he was having with someone. Evidently they didn’t hear much of it, and they aren’t completely sure who the other party was, except that they’re sure he was a man.”

“Where and when did this happen?” I asked.

“I think maybe early on Thursday afternoon, when people first started arriving and checking into the hotel,” Marisue said. “They’re staying on a higher floor, I guess, because I had to get out before I could hear much more. They never even noticed when I got on or when I got off.”

“Did you manage to hear anything about the subject of the argument Gavin was having with the unknown man?” This was certainly intriguing, but also annoying, since everything was rather vague. I didn’t envy Kanesha the task of trying to get those two women to talk and then make sense of it all.

“The little bit I got out of it,” Marisue said, “was that Gavin was angry over something the other man had done to him. Mr. X was taunting Gavin with it, and either Virginia or Ada Lou—sometimes I can’t remember which of them is which—repeated that line from Shakespeare about being hoist with your own petard. What play is it from, do you remember?”

With an actress daughter who adored Shakespeare, and as an admirer of the Bard myself, I told her. “It’s from Hamlet.” I could have told her more, but I didn’t want to sound like a know-it-all.

Marisue nodded. “Thanks. Anyway, one of them repeated it, and of course I’m not absolutely certain Mr. X said that to Gavin, or whether that was Ada Lou–Virginia’s interpretation. Do you think it could have any bearing on the murders?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But Kanesha definitely needs to hear about this, and she will of course have to talk to these two women.”

“I really don’t want to have to go back down there to talk to the deputy again,” Marisue said. “I don’t mean to sound whiny, but between dealing with Randi and her broken arm and then spending nearly an hour being grilled, I’m ready to load up on a bottle or two of my favorite wine and do some serious chilling out.”

“I understand,” I said. “Spending time at the ER is a draining experience for anyone. Let me text Kanesha on your behalf. At the moment I’ll tell her she needs to talk to these two women and ask them about an argument they overheard. I can explain later—or rather, you can explain—what you overheard. Okay?”

“Sounds fine to me,” Marisue said. “I could kiss you, Charlie, but I’m too tired to get out of the chair and do it.” She grinned at me.

“I appreciate the thought.” I smiled in return as I got my phone out to message Kanesha.

She responded quickly to thank me and to say that she would follow up with me soon. The important thing now was for her to talk to Virginia and Ada Lou. Marisue could tell her about overhearing the women’s conversation later.

I nearly dropped my phone as a terrible thought occurred to me. “Marisue, do these women go around all the time, talking like that, as if nobody else is around them? Are they that oblivious to their surroundings?”

Marisue nodded. “When they really get going, I think they lose all sense of where they are and who might overhear them.” Then she realized what I was getting at. “Oh my stars, the killer could have heard them gabbling away, and they would never know they had put themselves in danger.” Her earlier lethargy disappeared, and now she was as on edge as I was.

“I’ll text Kanesha again,” I said. “Tell her it’s an emergency and to call me ASAP.”

“Do,” Marisue said. “Those silly old bats. I hope they’re okay.”

Kanesha responded within seconds of my 911 text. “Yes?” she said. She never wasted time.

I explained as quickly as I could about Virginia and Ada Lou, citing Marisue as a reference. When I finished, Kanesha said, “I’ll talk to them right away. I will make sure they’re safe.” The phone call ended.

I still felt agitated, even though I knew Kanesha would move quickly to protect the two elderly women. As long as the killer hasn’t gotten to them first. I banished that thought. They would be all right. Kanesha would find them, find out everything they knew, and then would make sure they were safe from the killer.

My heart rate began to return to normal. Marisue, however, still looked upset.

“I should have made Virginia and Ada Lou go with me right then and there to talk to the deputy.” Marisue thumped the arm of her chair with a tightly closed fist. “If anything has happened to them, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Don’t start that,” I said. “You were tired. No surprise after the day you’ve had. You saw that it didn’t hit me right away, either. I’m sure Kanesha will find them and make sure they come to no harm.”

Diesel put a large paw on my knee, and I glanced down at him. He meowed twice, and I patted his head. “It’s okay, boy, we’re fine.” I spoke soothingly to him for a few moments longer, and he stretched out again by my feet.

“Is he okay?” Marisue asked.

I nodded. “He is now. He picks up on it when I get agitated or upset about something. When anyone around him does, really. Calming him down always helps me to keep myself from losing it.”

“How does he do around sick people?” Marisue asked. “Or, in this case, injured? I know Randi would get a kick out of seeing him for a few minutes, if she’s awake.”

“He would be fine with that. Actually, I’ve thought about getting involved in one of those therapy animal programs, because I think he would be great for that. He’s really sociable most of the time.”

“Why haven’t you?” Marisue asked.

“Lack of time, mostly, and of course with the current job, I have even less,” I said.

“That’s too bad.” Marisue pushed herself up and out of her chair. “Shall we go to Randi’s room?”

“Are you feeling up to it?”

“No, but she’s got the wine.” Marisue grinned. “Come on, she’s only a couple of doors away.” From the nearby desk she picked up a couple of key cards, each in its own sleeve, and slipped one into the pocket of her slacks. Diesel and I followed her out of the room and to another room two doors down and across the hall. Marisue knocked lightly, waited a moment, and then inserted the key card.

* * *

I waited outside the room with Diesel while Marisue made sure Randi was awake and in a state to receive visitors. Diesel and I didn’t have to wait long. Marisue came back soon and invited us in.

Subdued lighting greeted us, and I paused a moment to let my eyes adjust after the door swung shut behind us. Marisue went over to the king-sized bed and sat on a corner by the foot. I approached the bed, watching Randi’s face as I did. She was obviously still a bit woozy from her pain meds. She blinked owlishly at me for a moment before she smiled.

“Hi, Charlie.” She yawned. “Sorry about that. So tired. Nice to see you and your kitty.” Her cast made her left arm look nearly three times its normal size, and I hoped she wasn’t too uncomfortable. With the pain meds at work, she probably didn’t feel much, at least. Marisue had her propped against several pillows so she could sit up and talk.

“I’m sorry about your arm,” I said. “I hate to see you incapacitated like this. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Not that I can think of.” Randi yawned again. “Sorry. Can’t seem to stop.”

“No need to apologize,” I said. “If you don’t feel like talking, don’t worry. We won’t stay long.”

Diesel meowed, and Randi smiled. With her uninjured right arm she patted the bedspread beside her. “Come on up, kitty. Come on, now, let me rub your head.”

Diesel needed little urging. He understood the tone of Randi’s words, if not their precise meaning. He climbed on the bed and stretched out by her side. Randi stroked his head, and I could see that doing so made her perk up a little.

“How did it happen?” I asked. “Do you remember?”

Randi grimaced. “Way it always happens with me. Flapping my gums, not watching where I was going.” She fell silent after another yawn.

Marisue shook her head. “She stepped off the curb, and I guess she didn’t realize it was the curb. She stumbled, and down she went before I could grab her.”

“Not the first time.” Randi’s eyes closed, then opened again a moment later. “Sorry, keep wanting to sleep. Thirsty, though.” She looked hopefully, I thought, at Marisue. “Wine?”

“Certainly not, not with the pain medication.” Marisue got up from the bed and headed for the small nook that housed the refrigerator, coffeemaker, ice bucket, and cups. She came back with a bottle of water.

I glanced at the bottle as Marisue paused to twist off the cap. The brand name looked familiar. Then I remembered why I recognized it.

“Don’t open that bottle.” I reached to grab it away from Marisue.