Murder at the Library of Congress - Margaret Truman [100]
“Put this in your locker,” Consuela said, handing Annabel an envelope.
“What is it?”
“The duplicate discs. The safe in my office isn’t working. I’ve been after Maintenance for a week to fix it, but they never seem to get around to it.”
Annabel took the envelope from Consuela, placed it in her locker, added her laptop and some files, and locked it, the key going into the other pocket of her blazer. She followed Consuela down to the reading room, where Dolores Marwede waited.
“You can go home,” Consuela told Dolores. “Thanks for staying late and doing such a great job.”
“I didn’t mind,” Dolores said. “But I’ll be here for a while. I dropped a project to dupe the discs. I’d better finish it up before I leave.”
“Sorry,” Consuela said.
“Not a problem.”
As Dolores walked away, Sue Gomara arrived.
“How’s things in the main reading room?” Annabel asked.
“The same. I saw a guy I thought looked like he could be my stalker—‘telephone harasser,’ the cops call it—but I asked him something and listened to his voice. Not him.”
“Is that still going on?” Consuela asked with a sigh.
“Yeah. Well, time to change back into my grunt clothes and get to work here.”
“Go home,” Consuela said.
“Boyfriend’s out of town again, so I might as well stay instead of going home to my dark, cold apartment, eat leftovers, take another call from that creep and go to sleep crying my eyes out.” Her dramatic delivery, hand over her heart, eyes rolled up into her head, caused Annabel and Consuela to laugh.
“You laugh,” Sue said, joining them, “but wait’ll the creep starts calling you. Actually, I’m staying for the continuing ed lecture.”
“What’s that?” asked Annabel.
“Weekly programs to keep people up to date on what’s going on around the library,” Consuela said. “We’re too compartmentalized these days, left hands not knowing what right hands are doing. Cale Broadhurst initiated the series, people from different divisions telling others what’s going on in their areas. It’s been useful.”
“Dr. Vogler from Manuscripts is speaking tonight,” Sue said.
“Should be good sport,” Annabel said, visualizing Vogler sharing his knowledge with others. “Have fun.”
Consuela and Annabel walked to the stairs leading down to the walkway linking the Library of Congress’s three buildings. Consuela carried the envelope containing the original discs; Annabel held the pages Dolores had printed.
“The more I read what’s on those discs, Consuela, the more convinced I am that John Bitteman was the author,” Annabel said as they walked, “and that Michele Paul had something to do with Bitteman’s disappearance eight years ago. At least they provide a motive.”
“Let’s say you’re right,” Consuela said as they reached the Madison Building and headed for the elevators. “Let’s say Michele killed Bitteman. The bigger, more timely question is, who killed Michele Paul?”
Annabel was surprised to see that a group had been assembled in Broadhurst’s office when she and Consuela arrived. She’d met General Counsel Mullin and security director Andre Lapin before, and was introduced to the four others. Broadhurst welcomed them, announced they represented the final two arrivals for the meeting, closed his door, and got to the point.
“As most of you know, I called this meeting in anticipation of receiving computer discs and a printout of what’s on them. These discs contain, according to an informal report I received from Mrs. Reed-Smith, information that could have a bearing upon Michele Paul’s murder. The discs will be turned over to the proper authorities once we’ve had the opportunity to examine and evaluate their contents.
“Ms. Martinez took it upon herself to have a duplicate set of discs made so that we could preserve whatever research was on them that might benefit the library. A photocopy of the printout was also produced. Much of what’s on the discs deals with the elusive Las Casas diaries. I see you and Annabel have those things with you.”
“Actually, these are the original discs found in the Aaronsen collection,