Death Overdue (Librarian Mysteries) (8 page)

“A bookcase fell over on top of her and killed her.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“But it gets worse.”

“How can it?”

“There is a slight chance she might have been murdered and”—my voice faltered, but I forced myself to go on—“I’m afraid they suspect Caldwell.”

Silence.

“Rosie?”

“I’m not sure this move to England is a good idea at all, Karen. Even if it means I have a place to stay in London.”

“What am I to do?”

“Well, obviously, you must find out if she was murdered, then find out who did it, then rescue Caldwell, which will put him forever in your debt, and then get married before somebody else dies.”

“Yes, I guess that’s right.”

“Any more questions?”

“I wish you would come over here. I feel quite alone.”

“First of all, Nancy would have a conniption fit; secondly, the library needs me; thirdly, there’s Richard; and finally, I’m only a phone call away.”

“Right.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“Go sniff around and see if I can discover anything that will save Caldwell’s neck. However, it would be surprising if I could find something the cops have missed.”

“This does sound bad.”

“Thanks for your help.”

“Any time.”

“How’s Richard?”

“He thinks he loves me.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yes, but I’m not ready yet.”

“To say it back or to hear it said?”

“I think both.”

“What have you got to lose?”

“My independence?” she asked.

I knew how she was feeling. So similar to the questions I was asking myself about coming to live with Caldwell. “What do you have to gain?”

“A great guy, a life together.”

I thought of Caldwell. What was I dillydallying around for? When the police gave him back to me, I would welcome him with open arms.

“Sounds like a no-brainer to me,” I told her, wondering if it really was.

“Gotta go. Call me later about the search.”

When I got off the phone, I heard the front door open and rushed to see who was coming in, hoping it was Caldwell.

But it was only Bruce. However, he was loaded down with books and I stepped forward to take a bundle from his hands.

“Thanks so much,” he said as he relinquished them.

“You did well today,” I commented.

“Oh, yes, some lovely finds. I would say a good day’s work,” he said. “Would you like to see?”

“My, yes,” I said, and we walked down to the garden room.

I let him have the sofa so he could spread his books on the coffee table. Maybe it was called a tea table in England. I’d have to ask Caldwell. If he ever returned. But the books Bruce was revealing took my mind off Caldwell for a moment.

“Why, they’re all children’s books,” I noticed.

“Yes, that’s my specialty.”

I picked up a book I had loved as a child,
Five Children and It.
It had no slipcover but showed four children looking down at a large, blob-like snail creature. The cover was red with gilt lettering. “This is one of my favorites.”

“Yes, Nesbit has had good staying power. And that’s a first edition, with a signature, which of course pops the price up. I was lucky to find it. Probably my best discovery of the day.”

I knew one should not ask, but I couldn’t help it. “Where did you find such a book? What might it fetch in resale?”

Bruce grew quite animated as he told me, “I found the book tucked away in an antiques shop, and I don’t think they quite realized what they had. It was only a couple hundred pounds.”

Not cheap,
I thought. I was coming to realize that this was a business for Bruce, much as he loved books, and that his main concern was making money on his finds. I hoped Caldwell and I had some of that drive.

“And I think it will probably bring in over twice that—maybe
even three times,” he said happily. “Well, I’ll just cart these all upstairs.”

“I’m sorry to tell you the police went through your room,” I said.

“Oh dear. Not good, is it? What do they think has gone on here?” he asked. “Might I talk with Caldwell?”

“I’m still sorry to say that he’s not here. He hasn’t returned from the police station.”

Bruce picked up his latest find and held it to his chest as if someone might want to take it from him. “Are they thinking he might have had something to do with that nasty death?”

“I guess so.”

Bruce gathered up all his books and left me wilting on a chair.

For a moment I let this possibility bloom, Caldwell reaching through the transom and pushing over the bookcase. But as soon as that thought came into my mind, I banished it. I would never believe Caldwell killed Sally, unless he told me so himself. And even then I would think he was covering up for someone else.

The man who couldn’t kill a mouse certainly couldn’t push a wall of books over on a former lover, no matter how mad he was at her.

Just then I heard the door open.

I went to the end of the hall and watched Caldwell come through the entryway. Just what I wanted to see.

I rushed into his arms.

But before I could properly attend to him, I saw that a police officer was standing behind him and looking at me.

“Ma’am, I have to ask you to come with me to the station. Inspector Blunderstone wants a few words.”

F
or some reason, even though I knew I was in modern-day London, I expected the police station to be some charming old building. Far from it, the station I entered looked like the corporate headquarters of a multinational company. While many of the people swarming the building were dressed in street clothes, the majority were wearing some type of a uniform. They all looked harried and intent.

The young officer who had escorted me took me to a small room with a small window that looked out onto a city street. He told me to sit by a table and that Inspector Blunderstone would be with me shortly.

I had not had time to look myself over before we left the B and B. I ran my hands through my hair, sure that I was only making matters worse, and wondered if I should try to apply some lipstick, but decided against it. I was going to be questioned about a death, not having a job interview.

Blunderstone walked in, holding a sheaf of papers in his hands. He sat down, put the papers into an open file folder, and gave me a nod. A young woman police officer came in behind him, shut the door, then stood up against the wall. I wondered if she was there for my protection or so, later on, I couldn’t claim that Blunderstone had had his way with me. Whatever the reason, I was glad of her presence, although she did not look much friendlier than the inspector.

“How long have you known Caldwell Perkins?” he asked, still looking down at the papers in his lap.

I didn’t have to think but a moment to answer that question. I could have answered it almost to the hour, but I resisted. “I met him last fall. We’ve known each other for nearly six months.”

“How did you come to meet him?”

“I was a guest at his B and B.”

“Just yourself ?” He lifted his head up and squinted at me.

“Yes, my traveling companion bowed out at the last minute.”

“I see,” he said.

I knew he didn’t. The calmness of my voice in no way
acknowledged the trauma of that event. My boyfriend had dumped me hours before we were to leave for my first trip to London. And then things had proceeded to get worse. But I didn’t think now was the time to mention the other deaths.

“And you’ve become close with Mr. Perkins?” he asked.

“Yes, quite close,” I acknowledged proudly. “We have so much in common. We both love books.”

He humphed, and I took that to mean that he didn’t need the gory details of our bookish romance. “What do you do, Ms. Nash, when you are not visiting our lovely city?”

“I’m a librarian.”

I thought I saw a flicker of a smile cross his face. “And you’re from where in the States?”

“Minnesota. Sunshine Valley, which is a suburb of Minneapolis.”

“Minnesota?” He thought for a moment, thumping his lip with a forefinger, then smiled. “Jesse Ventura, the wrestling governor.”

Of all the things to be known for.
I forced a smile. “Yes, our former governor. I didn’t vote for him, but I actually agreed with him on a few issues.”

“How well did you know Ms. Burroughs?”

“Not at all. I had only just met her the afternoon before . . .” I waved my hand to encapsulate all that had happened.

“And am I to understand that she was Mr. Perkins’s former partner—both business and otherwise?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And that she had come back to claim her share of the B and B?”

“Well, she said that’s what she wanted. But she had left the business to Caldwell when she deserted him.”

“How did she desert him?”

“From what he’s told me, Sally cleaned out their bank account and left without a word. Just a note saying he could have the B and B.”

“Have you seen this note?”

“No, but I believe Caldwell.”

Blunderstone made a slight snorting noise through his nose. “And how did you feel about Ms. Burroughs’s reappearance, reclaiming the B and B?”

Here I stopped for a moment to collect myself. I was worried and tired. I didn’t want to say anything wrong. I decided to just tell the truth and not to try to figure out what Blunderstone might make of it. “I thought it was preposterous. She had been gone nearly seven years, during which time Caldwell had made a success of the business. Without any warning she descends on us and claims that he owes her half the B and B. I think not.”

“Did they have any legal documents drawn up when she left?”

“Not that I’m aware of. I doubt it, since Caldwell didn’t even know she was leaving him.”

For the first time he made a note of something on a piece of paper sitting in his lap.

“And what exactly is your relationship with Caldwell Perkins?”

The question of the hour. “We are trying to sort that out. Caldwell would like me to move over here. We had talked of selling the B and B, then starting a bookshop together.”

“So it would be in your best interest if Ms. Burroughs hadn’t come back or if she would just disappear.”

“I see them as two separate issues. I don’t feel that Sally has much of a claim on the B and B, and, even if she did, Caldwell and I might still go ahead with our plans to start a new business.”

“Did you feel threatened by her?”

I thought of how I had felt when she showed up, looking so lovely and pulled together. “I wouldn’t say that. More in awe. I always envy women who are taller than I am. She was a stunning woman, very sophisticated. More I felt irritated by the wrench she was throwing into the works.”

“I’ve been told that you were the last person to be in the library that afternoon. Is that correct?”

“Yes, as far as I know. I had started organizing Caldwell’s books. I was working on them when Sally arrived.”

“And Mr. Perkins told me that the door to the library is usually kept locked.”

“Yes, there are many valuable books in there, first editions and whatnot. But I think I forgot to lock the door when I ran to let Sally in.”

“And you never went back to the library.”

“No. It was a very upsetting day—what with her wanting the B and B back and her lover showing up—and I simply forgot.”

“Who knew about the library?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Who knew the library was there?”

“Well, I guess just about everyone did—except Alfredo. But he might have too. Sally could have told him. The library was no secret. Caldwell just didn’t want people going in there without him. He had collected many first editions worth many hundreds of pounds.” I didn’t feel I needed to mention the very valuable book Caldwell had just found; it could have nothing to do with this death.

“Why do you think Ms. Burroughs went into the library? Odd to do it in the middle of the night.”

“I have no idea.”

“Might she have been there to take one of these valuable volumes?”

“That’s a possibility, but I doubt it. I don’t think she knew which ones they were. She had so little interest in books.”

“Caldwell wouldn’t have told her when they were living together?”

“You’d have to ask him, but I doubt it. He has said that she was rather jealous of his books, all the attention he paid to them. I’d be surprised if he brought them up much at all.”

“Tell me what happened that night,” he said.

“Well, Sally and Alfredo went out. Caldwell and I ate in. Penelope went to her room. Caldwell and I went to bed rather early. We always read in bed together. We both fell asleep. A while later I heard Alfredo and Sally coming up the stairs. They were rather loud and sounded like they were drunk. I went back to sleep. Then there was a huge crash.”

I stopped for a moment to remember and felt a wash of fear sweep over me again. “Since Caldwell wasn’t in bed I was afraid something had happened to him. I ran out into the hallway and saw him standing in the open doorway of the library. Horror was on his face. You know the rest.”