Death Overdue (Librarian Mysteries) (4 page)

I wasn’t sure I wanted to see what he was looking at. I walked slowly toward him as Penelope’s door banged open.

“What was that noise?” she asked.

Caldwell didn’t answer, but kept staring.

I came up next to Caldwell and looked in the room. I felt some relief as I saw that all that had happened was one of the bookcases had toppled over. He must have been feeling terribly worried about the condition of the books that had fallen and were tossed all over the floor.

But then I noticed he was staring at something else, and my eyes followed his down to the edge of the tidal wave of books.

What I saw was a hand, a hand reaching out from under the sea of books.

A woman’s hand, red nail polish on the long, slender fingers, still as stone.

T
he three of us scrambled to dig Sally out, even though I had a deep sense that she was not with us any longer. I feared that the fall and tsunami of books had done her in.

After we pulled up the bookcase, we carefully lifted the many heavy volumes off Sally. When we had freed the top half of her body, Caldwell had the presence of mind to send Penelope to call for help.

I knelt down next to Sally to see if I could detect any signs of life. Her head was turned to the side, and her eyes were closed. When I reached out and touched her face, it felt unresponsive.

First I checked her carotid artery, as I knew to do from taking CPR classes, which were required of all librarians. I could find no pulse. When I opened her eyes, there was no movement. But I knew that it might not be too late to save her, and so I administered CPR—putting both my hands on her chest and pumping rapidly up and down.

After many minutes of my getting no response, Penelope took over.

I stood next to Caldwell and shook my head. “I’m afraid it’s no use. I think we’ve lost her.”

“What?” he asked, seeming dazed.

“I don’t think she’s alive anymore,” I said, just to be clear. “I’m sorry.” He wrapped his arms around me.

Even though Sally was minimally dressed, in a filmy white nightgown, she seemed remarkably unmarked by the onslaught of books—which made it hard to believe she could be dead.

As I watched Penelope work on her, I noticed a trickle of blood coming from the back of Sally’s head. She must have fallen over backward and hit her head with tremendous force. I supposed such a blow could kill instantaneously.

Caldwell stared at her and whispered to me, “I don’t understand how this could happen. She always hated books. Do you think she knew somehow that this would be her fate?”

“If she hated books so much, what was she doing in here?” I asked, pointing to the mess around us.

Just then Bruce appeared in the doorway of the library in a rumpled bathrobe. “Here, here. What’s going on?”

I said, “There’s been an accident.” The British habit of understatement was catching on with me.

He glanced down at Sally’s body, said, “Dreadful,” but then quickly began to peruse the books.

A moment later a scream came from behind us, and we all jumped.

Brenda stood in the doorway, wearing flannel pajamas with poodles all over them and her long hair streaming around her face. “Not Sally!” she cried out the name. “Not her!”

She threw herself down on the floor, grabbed one of the well-manicured hands, and held on tight, as if she could pull the woman back from the dead. Her hair tumbled over her face as she leaned forward and cried.

I put a hand on her shoulder and after a few moments lifted her up to her feet. She didn’t resist but turned in to my arms and kept crying.

“I didn’t even get to say hello,” Brenda mumbled into my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

Then Brenda stepped away from me. “You didn’t even know her. She was a wonderful person. Better than you.”

And then Alfredo stumbled through the library doorway. His hair stuck up like the crest on a woodpecker, and his eyes were as red as the bird’s crest.

“What has happened to my darling?” he asked, rubbing his eyes as if he could change what he was seeing.

“I’m afraid it’s not good news,” I told him.

“She is just sleeping, yes?” he asked with a catch in his voice that revealed he knew this was not the case.

“A long sleep,” Caldwell said.

*

When the paramedics arrived, two young men took over. I told them what I had done and they asked us to step out of the room, but we stayed in the doorway, watching how they would handle it.

Both of them were in very good physical shape, and somehow this reassured me—like if anyone could bring her back to life, they could. They took out the paddles and tried to shock her back, but the lifeless body made no response. They gave her a shot of what I guessed was adrenaline. No movement.

Finally they both stood up, and one of them called the time. Four eighteen in the morning.

I heard a sniffle and turned around to see Penelope crying. Her sister had just died, even if they weren’t on the best of terms.

Alfredo was clearing his throat and wiping his eyes. Brenda ran down the stairs, weeping.

I looked over at Caldwell, and he was just staring at the floor, no expression at all on his face.

I reached out and took his hand. He squeezed mine, but didn’t look at me. I wondered how he felt right now. I remembered how I felt when my ex-boyfriend died, like someone had cut a small chunk of flesh out of my body. Quite small but still painful. You can’t be close to someone for that amount of time and not feel pain at their demise. Their death takes away a time in your life.

“What happened here?” the tall paramedic asked.

We all waited for Caldwell to answer.

He cleared his throat and said, “I would say that it appears the bookcase fell over on top of her.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Yes.”

“What was she doing in here?”

Caldwell shook his head. “I have no idea. I usually keep the door locked. And Sally . . . I barely know her anymore.”

“Was anyone with her? Did anyone see it happen?”

We all shook our heads and looked at Alfredo.

Alfredo said, “I was too much sleeping. We had been drinking. I did not know she had gone.”

“Who’s closest of kin?” the paramedic asked.

Alfredo raised his hand. “I was her fiancé. But I don’t know what is this closest of kin.”

Then Penelope stepped forward, giving Alfredo a sharp look. “I believe I’m actually her closest of kin. I’m her sister. What do I need to do?”

“Well, nothing at the moment. Under the circumstances, we will be calling in the police, and they will tell you what will happen.”

“The police?” Penelope asked.

Caldwell added, “But surely this is an accident.”

“This looks like an accidental death, but that’s not for us to determine.”

“Calling in the police seems too much,” Penelope said.

The young, burly paramedic looked down at the lovely woman in a nearly see-through negligee. “Maybe so, but that’s the next step. To determine the cause of death. It’s procedure.”

T
he library turned into a crime scene. We were all asked to go downstairs and wait for the detectives to come.

Penelope flopped onto the couch and curled into a ball. Alfredo sat on the other end of the couch, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Brenda had gone to her room, and we could hear her still crying behind the door. Bruce sat in a chair next to a bookcase and started examining the books.

That left Caldwell and me to worry and stew.

“You have no idea why Sally was in the library?” I asked him.

“None whatsoever. I don’t know why the door was even
open. You know I usually keep it locked. There are some very expensive books in there.”

I gave a short gasp as I thought back to the afternoon. “I think it was my fault. I was working on cataloging and arranging the books when Sally arrived and, I guess, in all the excitement, I forgot to go back and lock the room. But even if I had, she probably knows where you keep the keys.”

He nodded. “Yes, right where they’ve always been. Never occurred to me to change them.”

I asked him a question that had been bothering me since I knew what he had planned to do to get her name off the deed for the house. “Did you really think Sally might have been dead?” When I saw his confused look, I added, “I mean, before tonight.”

He dropped his head into his hands. “I had no idea. I hadn’t heard a word from her in a few years, and that was just a postcard. I guess I thought it was possible, plus, I figured the house was mine, since she had made it so clear she no longer wanted it. I never thought she would come back and claim it. The furthest thing from my mind was Sally.”

We said no more as the police arrived. After going upstairs and looking at the scene, a short, round rock of a man came in and introduced himself as Chief Inspector Blunderstone.

I had trouble not laughing at his name. He didn’t look like a man who would find anything funny. And we were not
in a funny situation. But still the laugh bubbled inside of me like a faucet that wouldn’t turn off. I wondered if I was slightly hysterical and took some deep breaths.

Both Penelope and Alfredo stirred when he came in the room. Blunderstone walked heavy on the floor. Penelope leaned forward and wiped her face with her hands; Alfredo shook his head as if he were trying to wake up and rid himself of a horrible nightmare.

I had a sudden premonition things were going to get even worse when the first question Blunderstone asked was “Who found the body?”

Caldwell confessed, “I did.”

Blunderstone took a couple of steps closer to Caldwell but kept standing. “And what is your relationship with the deceased?” was the next question.

“She was my former partner in the B and B, but she left over six years ago. I’ve hardly seen or heard from her since.”

“When did she come back?” Blunderstone continued.

Caldwell was silent for a few moments.

“Just yesterday,” I answered for him, even though I knew I should keep my mouth shut. Sometimes it’s hard when you know the answer.

Alfredo jumped in and said, “She want her house back. We are going to marry, and we will live here.”

Blunderstone looked at Caldwell, who nodded.

“Whose house is this?” the inspector asked.

When Caldwell still didn’t say anything, I answered for him again. “It belongs to Caldwell. He’s been running the B and B solo since she left.”

Blunderstone swung around to face me. I noticed that he couldn’t move his neck easily, so he had to turn his whole body. “And who, may I ask, are you?”

This question kept coming up. Who exactly was I? I felt like the longer I was in England, the less sure I was of how I fit into this picture. “I’m a good friend of Caldwell’s.”

“How good?” Blunderstone persisted.

“Good enough,” I answered.

“And who are you two?” Blunderstone swung his body around to face the couch, where Penelope and Alfredo were sitting next to each other.

Penelope pulled back her hair and flung it over her shoulder. “I’m her sister and her closest of kin.”

“I am her fiancé,” Alfredo said.

“I assume you were sharing a room,” Blunderstone put to Alfredo.

“But of course.”

“And do you know why she was up in the middle of the night?” Blunderstone asked him.

“I do not know. I was sleeping.”

The inspector turned back to Caldwell. “Who else is staying with you?”

“There’s Brenda and Bruce. Brenda is my help. She went back to her room. And Bruce, who’s over there, is a guest.”

“I will need to speak with them.”

“Certainly.” Caldwell got up as if to go get Brenda, but Blunderstone waved him back down.

“What I would like to know . . .” the inspector humphed. “How does a bookcase fall down like that?” he asked the room.

Caldwell spoke up. “That case shouldn’t have come down. Because the bookcases were so tall and the floor was so uneven, I had fastened each of them to the wall with a hook.”

Blunderstone nodded, and again his whole body moved down as he moved his head. “I saw the hook, but obviously it was no longer hooked. I don’t like what this is saying to me.” He raised his bushy eyebrows. “Mr. Perkins, if you would please come upstairs with me so we may discuss this further.”