Murder at the Library of Congress - Margaret Truman [105]
Annabel went downstairs to where Consuela and Sue Gomara sat in Consuela’s office. Consuela quickly stood. “Is it true, Annie? It was Dolores?”
“Afraid so,” Annabel said. She sat, afraid that her trembling legs might fail her.
“My God!” Consuela said. “Why?”
“He hurt her too much, Consuela. Too much.”
Annabel looked at Sue. The intern had obviously been crying, the dried tears creating makeup streaks on her cheeks.
“The stalker,” Annabel said. “You found out who it was?”
“She says it’s—”
Sue cut Consuela off. “It is! I know it. I’d know his voice anywhere.”
“Who?” Annabel said.
“Dr. Vogler.”
“Dr. Vogler?”
“That’s what she says, Annie,” Consuela said.
“I knew it five minutes into his lecture,” Sue said, animated. “At first, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Couldn’t be, I told myself. But then I listened more closely, really concentrated on his voice and the way he talks, you know, almost like he might start stuttering any time. And he kept looking at me, not directly, but I knew he was. He was so nervous, like he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to say, walking up and down in front of the room, always glancing at me. It’s him! I know it’s him.”
“Did you say anything to him?” Annabel asked.
“Are you kidding? I got up and ran out of the room. I got here just when everything was happening with Dolores.”
Consuela asked, “Sue, are you certain enough to bring charges against him?”
“Charges? I’d like to string him up, boil him in oil. Charges? You mean in court and all?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know. I—”
Chief Lapin appeared in the doorway.
“Is she all right?” Annabel asked.
“Ms. Marwede? I wouldn’t say so. Nothing physical, but she’s a mental mess, that’s for sure. You okay, Mrs. Smith?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
Lapin turned his attention to Sue. “Now, what’s this about the person who’s been stalking you? You say you know who it is?”
“Yes.”
“Someone from the library?”
Lapin’s radio came to life.
“Chief, it’s Wozinzki. I’m down here in Manuscripts, Dr. Vogler’s office.”
“A problem?”
“Yeah, I’d say so. He’s sitting at his desk. I’m out in his reception room. He bagged me out in the hall and started saying he did a terrible thing to someone, some intern named Sue.”
All eyes went to Sue. She nodded.
“I’ll be right there.”
“Tell him to keep an eye on Vogler,” Annabel said to Lapin. “He’s liable to do something to hurt himself.”
Lapin instructed his officer to stay with Vogler until he got there.
“Want to come with me, young lady?” Lapin asked Sue.
“No,” she said, shaking her head for emphasis. “I don’t want to see him ever again.”
Lapin left the office. The three women sat in silence, each consumed with her own thoughts. Finally, Annabel pushed herself up out of the chair. “I have to call Mac,” she said. “I want to go home.”
Chapter 39
Three Months Later
Mac Smith moved quickly to his right, intercepted the baseline drive, and sent a two-handed rocket back across the net.
“That’s game,” Annabel announced happily.
Cale Broadhurst and his wife, Patricia, met the Smiths at the net and shook hands.
“You looked good out there,” Cale said. “Like the old Mac Smith.”
Mac laughed. “Nothing like a little surgery to fix things up. I’m glad I didn’t put it off. Made my knee as good as new.”
He looked to Annabel, whose smile was pleasantly evil.
After showering, they drove to the Broadhurst home, where they celebrated Mac’s return to tennis form with drinks and snacks. Talk soon turned to the library.
“I’m sorry,” Annabel said after Cale had said something stern in passing about Dolores Marwede, “but I have a lot of compassion for her.”
“Even though she took a swipe at you with a box cutter?” Mac said.
“Even with that,” Annabel replied. “The woman was desperately in love with Michele Paul. He played off that, got her to help him dump John Bitteman’s body off his boat, and kept stringing her along to protect his secret. I’m surprised she didn’t whack