Twelve Angry Librarians

I vaguely remembered Lisa Krause telling me that I was expected to sit at the speaker’s table for the keynote speech today. Under the circumstances, I thought it best that I forget she ever told me. I chose a seat at a back table between Marisue and Randi. We had a good view of the dais at the other side of the ballroom. This was more than close enough to Gavin for me.

The tables had already been set with the salad course, glasses of iced tea, and dessert, a slice of raspberry cheesecake. Our table soon filled, as did the ballroom, and we chatted as we ate our salads. Before long the waitstaff came by, handing out plates of the usual grilled banquet chicken breast, along with spears of asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and roasted red potatoes.

The food was better than that of many such banquets I had attended over the years. I would have to call Donna Evans, the catering manager, later and tell her so.

As the waitstaff were clearing away our plates and beginning to serve coffee, there was activity on the dais. A tall, distinguished-looking, gray-haired man I didn’t recognize stepped up to the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please.” He paused for a moment, then repeated himself. The chatter died away, and he smiled. “My name is Harlan Crais.” He went on to mention his affiliation with a midsize university in Tennessee and his current position there. “It is my pleasure today to introduce our keynote speaker, Dr. Gavin Fong.” He rattled off some of Gavin’s achievements, then welcomed Gavin to the podium.

Gavin stood at the podium for at least ten or fifteen seconds without speaking as he surveyed the audience. I couldn’t see his expression clearly, but somehow I knew it was supercilious. Then he began his speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am here today to tell you that our profession is dying. In five years, maybe less, we will all be out of work. The academic library is dying, strangled by shrinking budgets, greedy publishers, and staff who are poorly trained to cope with today’s ever-changing technologies. Library schools have become diploma mills, turning out graduates who might just as well be working at fast-food restaurants for all the intellectual stimulation they are receiving in so-called graduate school. Master’s and doctoral degrees are nothing more than a waste of time and resources. We would all be better served by taking different career paths.”

A wave of sound moved around the room as the audience reacted to these incendiary words. The sheer hypocrisy of the man. I was incensed with him myself. He had the nerve, the colossal gall, to stand up in front of all these people and spout tripe like that after he had applied for the director’s job here at Athena. If I’d been close enough to throw something at him, I just might have at that moment.

While Gavin waited, smiling, for the noise to recede, he glanced down at the podium. He frowned, then turned to look over at a table nearby. He mimed drinking from a glass, and within seconds Lisa Krause popped up to hurry toward the podium. She held up a bottle, and Gavin leaned down to retrieve it. He didn’t acknowledge her in any way that I could see, and Lisa returned to her seat.

By now the noise had abated for the most part, and Gavin turned up the bottle and drank from it. He set it down somewhere, then opened his mouth to speak.

No words came out. He appeared to be struggling to breathe all of a sudden. He clutched at his throat, and the microphone magnified the gagging sounds so that everyone could hear them. I watched in horror as he disappeared behind the podium. Moments later a woman started screaming.

TWELVE

I stared at Chief Deputy Kanesha Berry, not sure I had heard her correctly. Then the import of her question sank in.

“And exactly how did I manage to get the poison into his bottle?” I shook my head. “No, not me. I wasn’t anywhere near him or his bottle this morning.

“Besides,” I continued, “what motive did I have to kill him? I’ll admit I loathed the man, but I sure didn’t kill him.” I had to pause for breath.

Kanesha held up a hand. “Personally, I don’t think you did it, but as a matter of routine, I had to ask. Now, I have a witness who claims you attacked Mr. Fong in public yesterday. Is this true?”

“I hit him, yes, but I didn’t attack him. He swung at me three times—and missed, incidentally—before I hit back.” I had to keep my temper under control, especially in front of Kanesha. “Look, let me give you the background on all this. It will take a few minutes.”

Kanesha nodded. “Go ahead. Might as well hear it all now.”