Arsenic And Old Books

“Thank you,” Kanesha said. “Send me a copy of the scan. You have my e-mail. Go ahead and read the pages and I’ll do the same as soon as I get the file.”

“Will do,” I said and then ended the call.

I didn’t know why I was so jittery, but talking to Kanesha helped me feel calmer. I didn’t expect the mayor to come to my office, waving a gun around, threatening me unless I turned the pages over to her. I was simply on edge because of the events of the past few days, I decided.

I relayed the news to Melba. She nodded vigorously.

“Good, the sooner all this crazy mess is settled, the better.” She stood. “Unless you want me to hang around until that deputy gets here, I guess I should get back downstairs.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay,” I said. “The deputy should be here any minute.”

“All right. See you later.” Melba gave Diesel’s head one last quick rub and headed for the door. Diesel meowed after her and watched for a moment before he came back and climbed onto the windowsill.

I looked up and Melba was back in the office. “You’ve got company,” she said in an undertone, “and it’s not the deputy.”

She had no chance to explain further. Behind her I saw Beck Long and a strange man pause at the door. Long knocked and smiled.

“Sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Harris, ma’am.” He took a couple of steps into the room. “I really need to talk to you for a few minutes, if you have time.”

I wanted to tell him to go away, that I was far too busy, but I knew I had no choice. I hoped I could get rid of him and his companion before the deputy arrived.

“Come in, Mr. Long.” I rose and came around the desk to shake his hand. I introduced Melba, and they shook hands.

Long nodded to indicate his companion. “This is my associate, Daryl Kittredge. He’s a member of my campaign staff.”

Melba and I shook hands with Kittredge. He was short, verging on plump, with dark hair and eyes, a definite contrast to tall, blond Beck Long.

I glanced over at the windowsill, and Diesel remained there. He was watching the proceedings, however. I wondered why he hadn’t come over to greet the visitors. Perhaps he had picked up on my unsettled state and was keeping out of things.

Melba quickly excused herself. She paused in the door to mime something. I thought she was trying to tell me she would hover nearby in the hall in case I needed help. I gave her a slight nod.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Long?” I didn’t ask them to sit because I didn’t want to encourage them to hang around.

Long didn’t seem to notice the lack of invitation. He smiled, exposing a set of perfectly formed, dazzlingly white teeth. “My mother shared with me the contents of the diary. Daryl and I would like to see it for ourselves. He’s going to take a few shots of the pages for a press release.”

Exactly not what I needed to hear. My hopes of keeping the mayor from finding out I suspected the diary was a fake were fading quickly.

In as bland a tone as I could manage, with my heart suddenly racing a mile a minute, I said, “I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible.” My mind raced along with my heart as I tried to come up with a plausible excuse for denying their request without revealing I didn’t have the diary in my possession.

Long’s brow furrowed. “Why not? It will only take a few minutes.”

“It’s not the time,” I replied. Inspiration struck. “Or rather, it is the time. Your timing, I guess I should say. The binding of that volume has some problems, and it’s in the process of being repaired. These problems had to be addressed immediately to insure the integrity of the binding for the future. I’m sure you understand. I know you wouldn’t want such an important resource to be damaged; nor would your mother.”

I cut the babbling off as Long’s eyes glazed over. I wasn’t sure he understood what I was telling him; he looked so blank. His associate, Kittredge, however, caught on quickly.

“That’s too bad,” he said. “I suppose we’ll have to go with the scans.” He reached in his jacket and pulled out a leather business card holder. He extracted a card and handed it to me. “If you could e-mail the scanned pages to me right away, I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem,” I said.

Long frowned at his associate. “I don’t see what the big deal is about letting you take a few pictures. That’s not going to hurt an old book.”

Kittredge looked slightly exasperated but then cleared his expression.

“That’s the problem,” I said quickly. “Until the binding is fully repaired, you can’t open the book wide enough to take good pictures without damaging it.”

“We understand,” Kittredge said. “How long before the repairs are completed?”

“A week, I suppose.” I shrugged. I prayed that this would all be over well before a week passed.

Kittredge nodded. He shook my hand. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Harris.”

Long looked sulky as he in turn shook hands with me. “Yeah, thanks.”