Twelve Angry Librarians

“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.”