Twelve Angry Librarians Read online

  Kanesha’s gaze flicked to the other end of the room where Hampton and his assistant still sat, then back to me.

  Was she trying to tell me something? I decided maybe she was warning me to be careful what I said. Maybe she didn’t want Hampton and his associate to know that she and I knew each other well.

  Kanesha’s chilly tone when she asked me the first question told me I could be right.

  “What were you doing on the sixth floor with Ms. Krause?”

  “She called me in a panic. I couldn’t ignore her plea for help, because I don’t think she was calm enough to think clearly. I told her to call 911 and then the front desk, and that I would be with her in a couple of minutes.”

  “Where were you at the time you received the call?”

  “I’d left the hotel a few minutes before Lisa called me,” I said. “I was on the way to the bistro, Helen Louise Brady’s place, and I was nearly there.”

  “You turned back immediately?”

  I nodded. “As I said, she sounded pretty shaky.”

  “Can you verify the time of that phone call?” Kanesha asked.

  I pulled out my phone and checked the list of calls. “Yes, ten fifty-seven. The call lasted almost a minute.”

  “How long after that was it before you reached Ms. Krause on the sixth floor?”

  “No more than five minutes,” I said. “Probably no more than three, three and a half.”

  “Did you see anyone on the sixth floor when you arrived there?”

  “No, only Lisa.” I frowned as I recalled what Lisa said about the housekeeping cart. I hadn’t noticed one, and I told Kanesha that.

  “Could it have been there and you simply overlooked it?” Kanesha asked, her pen poised to write down my answer.

  “I suppose so,” I said, “but I don’t think I did. I had to check the sign to see which way to go to get to the room, and I probably looked both ways down the hall.”

  “But you can’t be absolutely certain?”

  I wondered why Kanesha was pressing this particular point.

  “No, I can’t be absolutely certain,” I said.

  “When you arrived at the room and found Ms. Krause, what happened then?”

  I gave Kanesha the details she wanted, and then she took me through it all again.

  When I finished, Kanesha fixed me with her laser stare. “Did you at any time look into the room? Or go into the room?”

  “No, I neither looked nor went into the room,” I said. “I didn’t want to risk contaminating the scene any further.”

  “Wise of you,” Kanesha said in a low tone. “For once.”

  I inclined my head slightly. “I thought so.”

  Kanesha dropped her pen on the pad. “I think that’s all for now, Mr. Harris. If I have further questions, I’ll be in touch.”

  “I’m always happy to answer your questions, Deputy Berry.” I rose from the table, nodded in the direction of Hampton and his associate, and exited the room.

  Once the door closed behind me, I leaned against the wall near it for a moment. I ought to be used to this situation by now, given the events of the past two years, but I definitely wasn’t. Adrenaline had brought me this far. Now, however, I felt the inevitable letdown, and my head throbbed.

  The first thing I needed was water, and I headed for the closest restroom. There was a water fountain outside it. I drank enough to keep a camel going for a week in the desert, and then I used the restroom.

  By the time I came out into the hall again, my headache had begun to recede. I checked the time and was not surprised to see that it was nearly twelve thirty. That diet soda and bag of peanuts had been almost two hours ago, and I was hungry for both food and caffeine.

  I considered the bistro but decided I would have lunch here in the hotel restaurant. A hamburger and a salad—though I would have preferred french fries—should suffice, along with a couple of glasses of iced tea. I found the stairs, walked down to the ground floor, and made my way to the restaurant. I found it not as crowded as I thought it might be—certainly not as crowded as Helen Louise’s place always was on Saturdays around lunchtime.

  The hostess greeted me and led me toward a table. On the way, I spotted Marisue and Randi. They waved and motioned for me to join them. I steered the hostess in their direction, and she left me there with a menu.

  “Good afternoon, Charlie,” Marisue said. “We were hoping we’d run into you today.”

  “Have you heard the latest?” Randi’s eyes were alight with curiosity.

  “Good afternoon.” I opened my menu and laid it flat on the table. “What’s the latest you’ve heard?” I was curious whether news of Maxine Muller’s murder had started making the rounds.

  “Some poor woman was strangled to death in her room,” Randi said in an undertone.

  I didn’t bother to correct her about the method of murder. “Who told you that?”

  “You don’t seem surprised by the news,” Marisue said. “Did you already know about this?”

  There was no point in prevaricating. “Yes, I did.” I figured I might as well share a few of the main details, aside from the way the poor woman died.

  “Poor Lisa,” Marisue said, and Randi echoed her. “How awful.” Marisue looked a bit ashen.

  “Who was murdered?” Randi asked.

  “Maxine Muller,” I replied.

  The irrepressible Randi didn’t seem much bothered by the thought of Lisa’s ordeal or by Ms. Muller’s unfortunate demise. “The person who killed poor Maxine had to be the same one who poisoned Gavin, don’t you think?”

  “It seems pretty likely,” I said. “You didn’t answer my question. Who told you about the murder?”

  “The maid who was cleaning our room,” Randi said. “We popped upstairs for a moment before coming down here, and she was in our room. She almost jumped out of her skin when we walked in. The poor thing was terrified.”

  “When we asked her why, she told us that a woman had been found strangled in her room on the sixth floor,” Marisue said. “We didn’t know until now, though, that poor Maxine was the victim.”

  “Maxine must have known something about Gavin’s murder.” Randi exchanged a glance with Marisue.

  “I would think that’s certainly possible,” Marisue said. “But we have an expert right here. What do you think, Charlie? You’ve had a lot of experience with this kind of thing, haven’t you?”

  “Unfortunately, more than I would care to admit to anyone besides friends of long standing,” I said. “I think Maxine is connected, and the killer obviously felt Maxine had to be got out of the way for some reason. I sure wish we knew what that reason was.”

  “I didn’t really know her that well,” Lisa said. “I’d see her at these meetings and usually at ALA. We served on an ALA committee together twice, I think.”

  “Same with me,” Marisue said. “I do know that she had a thing for Gavin Fong, and that I found extremely strange. I can’t imagine why a sane woman would be attracted to that narcissistic creep.”

  Randi giggled. “Maxine was odd. I always thought so. Most of the time she carried a knitting bag around with her. She was always knitting sweaters for her dogs.”

  “I’d forgotten about that.” Marisue grimaced. “She gave me a couple once because I made the mistake of telling her I had a Yorkie, too. They were dreadfully twee. I donated them to the local animal shelter when I got home.”

  I found the image of Maxine knitting dog sweaters sweet, but also rather sad for some reason. I hoped there would be someone to give her dogs a good home. I hated to think of orphaned pets. There was never any way to explain to them why their human was never coming back.

  Randi could have read my mind. Her face clouded. “I didn’t think about her poor little orphaned fur babies. I hope someone will take them and give them a good home.” F
or a moment I thought she was going to cry, she looked so sad.

  Even Marisue appeared moved by the plight of Maxine’s dogs. Before we turned maudlin, I decided I’d better change the subject. I wanted to bring up blackmail as a motive, but I needed to be careful doing it. I couldn’t share with Marisue and Randi the bit of conversation Lisa overheard at the luncheon.

  I couldn’t think of a graceful way to do it, so I dove right in. “I’ve been thinking about that story you told me at dinner last night. The one involving Harlan Crais.”

  “What about it?” Marisue asked.

  “About Gavin blackballing Crais to keep him from getting a job.”

  “It was nasty,” Randi said, “and you couldn’t really blame Harlan for hating Gavin the way he did.”

  “No, I suppose not,” I said. “Look, here’s what I’m wondering. If Gavin was willing to blackball someone, what are the chances he would threaten to do it, but tell his victim he wouldn’t if he got paid enough not to?”

  TWENTY-ONE

  I glanced from one to the other and back again as I tried to gauge their reactions to my question. Both Marisue and Randi seemed to freeze for a moment, then they shared what I interpreted as an uneasy glance.

  Marisue responded first. “With Gavin, anything low and underhanded was always a possibility, I suppose.”

  “Yes, he could have done something like that,” Randi said. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  I sensed that they both knew something but were reluctant to tell me what it was. “We’ve already talked about the fact that I have experience with a murder investigation, haven’t we?”

  They both nodded. “What’s your point?” Marisue asked.

  “My point is this,” I said. “If you know something that could have a bearing on the case, then you really need to share it with the investigating officer. I can assure you, from personal experience, that Chief Deputy Berry is an intelligent, seasoned investigator. She’s tough but fair.”

  I sat back and waited for them to mull over my words. Our server came to the table with a glass of water for me, introduced himself, and then asked if we were ready to place our orders. I waited for Marisue and Randi to give theirs, then I told the young man what I wanted, the All-American Cheeseburger and salad, with unsweetened iced tea, no lemon, to drink. I loved their sweet tea, but it had way too much sugar in it.

  Once the server finished writing down our orders, collected the menus, and moved away, I looked at Marisue and Randi and waited for them to respond to what I had said right before the server came to the table.

  Randi fiddled with her spoon and avoided meeting my gaze. Marisue stared at something over my shoulder. I waited, however, and didn’t prompt them to speak.

  Finally Randi broke the silence. She glanced quickly at Marisue and away again as she spoke. “The thing is, Charlie, we don’t know anything for sure. I mean, we have no proof of it. It’s more like an educated guess.”

  “That’s a start,” I said.

  “A couple of years ago, we heard that Gavin bought a new car,” Randi said. “A BMW, one that sells for well over a hundred thousand dollars.”

  I almost spit out the water I’d sipped the moment before. How on earth could a librarian afford a car that expensive?

  He could if he was blackmailing someone or, in fact, several people.

  I set my water glass down and swallowed the mouthful of water. “That is highly suspicious, don’t you think?”

  Marisue shrugged. “He could have inherited the money, because he evidently paid cash for it. At least, that’s what we heard through the grapevine.”

  “Yes, that’s possible,” I said.

  “But from what we heard, Gavin never mentioned a death in the family or ever boasted of having rich relatives,” Randi said. “He was the type who would, though, if he had some.”

  “Yes, that would have been entirely in character,” I said. “Unless he’d been saving for years in order to buy a car like that.”

  “He was good at getting other people to pay for things,” Marisue said. “If you ever went out to eat with him, he always managed to leave his wallet at home or at the office and never had money to pay his share. He’d say he would pay you back, but that never happened.”

  “That’s one way to save money,” I said.

  Marisue shared a grim smile. “Anyone who worked with him learned not to go out to eat with him after the first couple of times, though. So that trick didn’t work for long.”

  “He always wanted to go to expensive restaurants, too,” Randi said. “No fast food or a diner for him.”

  “I suppose, then, he could have saved the money,” I said. “I think it’s something Deputy Berry will want to investigate, though, in case the money actually came from blackmail.”

  “Do we have to tell her?” Randi asked. “Can’t you do it for us?”

  “I can tell her,” I said. “But she will probably want to talk to you about it. If she asks me where I got the information, I will have to tell her.”

  “All right, then,” Marisue said. “I suppose we’ll have to do it ourselves.”

  The server brought the grilled chicken salads Marisue and Randi had ordered and informed me that my food would be out soon. I nodded and smiled, but waited until the young man was out of the way before I continued.

  “There’s another part of this,” I said. “I know you might balk at it, but I have to ask.”

  Both women looked up from their salads and frowned at me. “Ask what?” Randi said at the same time Marisue said, “Balk at what?”

  “If Gavin was blackmailing people and getting money from them, and you both agree with me that is a distinct possibility,” I said, “then I have to ask you if you have any ideas about whom he might have been blackmailing.”

  Marisue put down the fork she had been about to stab into her salad. “I can’t give you a specific name, and I don’t think Randi can, either.” Her gaze slid sideways to her friend and then refocused on me. Randi shook her head in agreement with Marisue.

  “But,” Randi drew out the word, “I’d say the most obvious targets for blackmail would be people who had worked with Gavin who were trying to move up and out to higher-paying jobs.”

  “People like Harlan Crais, for example,” I said.

  Both women nodded.

  “Do you think he would have limited himself to people he worked with, or might he have tried his hand at targets outside his own workplace?”

  “He could have, I suppose,” Randi replied.

  Marisue leaned back in her chair and folded her arms over her chest. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think what you’re getting at here is whether Gavin went around collecting gossip, looking for anything he could make a profit from.”

  I wondered about Marisue’s defensive body language and whether it was an unconscious reaction. Had she been one of Gavin’s victims? I hadn’t considered the possibility that either of my friends here could be a viable suspect in Gavin’s death. And, by extension, Maxine Muller’s.

  “Yes, that’s what I’m getting at.” I noted that Randi didn’t seem bothered by either my question or Marisue’s response. Interesting, but even the best of friends don’t share everything, I told myself.

  I suspected they knew more than they were willing to share with me, and I wondered if I could get more out of both of them if I managed somehow to talk to them one-on-one. I’d have to give it a try if I could think of a way to separate them.

  “Where Gavin is concerned, anything sleazy is possible,” Randi said.

  Marisue nodded, picked up her fork, and began to eat.

  “I will mention that possibility to Deputy Berry,” I said. “She can take it from there if she has to dig deeper into Gavin’s activities.”

  The server brought my cheeseburger and salad, and for the next few minutes I focuse
d on eating my lunch. Neither Marisue nor Randi spoke, other than to say how good their salads were. I decided to let the silence build and waited to see what, if anything, they chose to say.

  I thought about the nature of Maxine Muller’s role in Gavin’s alleged blackmail activities. Based on what Lisa Krause overheard at the luncheon yesterday, I was willing to bet that Maxine knew something. The question was, how much did she know?

  That led to another thought. Was she murdered because she was a partner in the scheme? Or did she know just enough to spook the killer into taking her out as a precautionary move?

  Then a truly terrifying thought struck me. How much cyanide—or whatever poison was used—did the killer still have? I hadn’t considered this. I was sure Kanesha had considered it, though.

  Maybe the killer had finished, once both Gavin and Maxine were dead. I could only pray that this was so and that more deaths wouldn’t follow. Talk about a nightmare scenario. My lunch suddenly soured in my stomach. I put down the last bit of cheeseburger and pushed my plate aside.

  My expression must have alerted Randi that something was wrong. “Are you okay, Charlie? You look a little green. Is it heartburn?” She grabbed her purse and started rummaging through it. “I have some antacids in here somewhere.”

  “No, not heartburn. I suddenly felt full, that’s all.” I gave what I hoped was a convincing smile. “I’m trying to be more careful about how much I eat.” I certainly couldn’t tell them the truth about what I was thinking. I didn’t want to terrify them and start a panic.

  Randi eyed me as if she didn’t believe me, but she set her purse back down and resumed eating. Marisue didn’t appear to be all that concerned, and that was okay.

  “Would you be offended if I pulled out my cell phone and sent a text?” I asked. “Ordinarily I try not to do things like that during meals, but I thought I would go ahead and let Deputy Berry know I need to talk to her.”

  “You truly are a Southern gentleman.” Marisue smiled, and Randi nodded. “Hardly anyone bothers to ask these days. I don’t mind. Do you?” She glanced at Randi.