Murder at the Library of Congress - Margaret Truman [79]
“I’ve got to let Dr. Broadhurst know.”
“Of course.”
“I’d like you to come with me.”
“If you wish.”
Consuela dialed the Librarian’s number. His secretary answered and said Broadhurst had left for the evening for a dinner with a trustee and a speech at American University.
“It’ll have to wait until morning.”
Annabel’s brow furrowed.
“You’re thinking?”
“I’m just thinking, realizing, that once we deliver the five discs to Cale, I won’t have an opportunity to go through them.”
“Not necessarily true. They’re library property.”
“And they’ll most likely become police property.”
“Not forever.”
“Long enough to deny me what’s on them that might contribute to the article. The police will want to examine their content to see whether there’s any material relevant to the murder. That could take months. They can sit on them for as long as they want. Consuela, would you be willing to let me take these discs home with me tonight?”
“Oooh, I don’t know, Annie.”
“I’ll understand if you say no, but I’ll also be eternally grateful if you do. If Cale was in his office right now, and we were to bring them to him, I wouldn’t even think of doing this. But unless you’re going to turn them over to someone else tonight, they’ll sit here until morning. Are you planning to give them to someone else?”
“No. I think Cale should be the first, and only, person to have them.”
“But I’ve already seen them, Consuela, and I can make good use of them. I just want to make notes of anything on them that’s helpful to my article.”
Consuela thought for a moment before saying, “Only because it’s you, Annie.”
“I owe you.”
“No, you don’t. But what if you come across material that bears on the murder?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. I suppose I’ll make note of anything of that nature, too, and share it with you tomorrow.”
Consuela narrowed her eyes; a small smile crossed her lips. “Are you sure, Annie, that you want to see what’s on those discs only because you’re searching for Las Casas material for the article?”
Annabel’s eyebrows went up. “Why else would I want to take them home?”
“To see whether there is anything on them about the murder?”
Annabel didn’t answer, but Consuela read her face.
“Once a lawyer, always a lawyer. Take them home, Annie, but be back with them first thing in the morning. If there is anything on them referring to Michele’s murder, I’d hate to be charged with obstruction of justice.”
“Me, too. See you tomorrow. And thanks.”
Chapter 31
Annabel wondered as she left the building whether the security guard would ask to see what was in the envelope. He didn’t. She walked quickly up First Street in the direction of the Supreme Court Building in search of a cab.
“The South Building, the Watergate,” she told the driver.
Mac and Rufus were on the terrace when she arrived. It was a lovely, warm evening in Washington, the sun seeming to stay high in the sky longer than usual, a gentle breeze from the west displacing the city’s legendary humidity with dry air. She noticed immediately as man and beast crossed the living room to greet her that Mac wasn’t limping.
“How’s the knee?” she asked.
“Great. I may not need that surgery after all. The magnet’s working.”
“What magnet?” she asked, slipping out of her shoes and heading for the kitchen.
He came up behind her and kissed her neck. “The one I’m wearing. I stopped in a drugstore and bought one. See?” He pulled up his pants leg to display an elasticized bandage. A small lump pressing against it was, Annabel assumed, the magnet. “Feels good already.”
“That’s … that’s great, Mac.”
“Drink?”
“I don’t think so. I’m in for an all-nighter.”
He laughed. “Trying to relive your undergrad days?”
“No, trying to make sense of something and I only have one night to do it.”
“Tell me more.”
A club soda with lemon in her hand, and a dry Rob Roy in his, they went to the terrace and sat at the table. Mac positioned the large multicolored umbrella to shield them from the sun, which had suddenly decided