Larceny at the Library

Home > Other > Larceny at the Library > Page 17
Larceny at the Library Page 17

by Colleen Shogan


  “Let’s try a different approach,” I said. “Is there a way to move stolen goods similar to what was taken from the Library of Congress?”

  “It would be immensely difficult,” he said. “Not impossible, but everyone knows about this theft. It’s been covered by all major newspapers in the world. If a shady dealer buys the items, how will he resell them when everyone knows the provenance? It’s a big risk. Consequently, the dealer would not pay anywhere near the estimated value.”

  “Still, a few hundred thousand bucks goes a long way, doesn’t it?” I asked slyly.

  “I suppose so, but not nearly equivalent to the risk undertaken,” he said. “Not to mention the thief also committed murder.”

  “What did you do after the event ended that night?” I asked.

  “After making sure the collection was secure inside the safe, I went home,” he said. “I took the Metro, as I always do.”

  “Did anyone see you leave the Library of Congress?” asked Trevor.

  “I’m sure people did see me leave, but I doubt anyone could verify my alibi, if that’s what you’re inquiring about. However, I do have my Metro card.” Endicott took out his wallet and produced his subway pass.

  “And that’s your alibi?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “Precisely. Metro can verify that I used this pass to travel home to Maryland on Tuesday evening. They track all activity in case there’s a payment dispute,” he said, with more than a hint of smugness in his answer.

  I started to reply, but then caught myself. No need to show all my cards, so to speak. Metro could verify that a passenger used that particular subway card to travel from Capitol Hill to suburban Maryland on Tuesday night. That person may or may not have been Gordon Endicott. A partner in crime could have made the trip, giving Endicott a legitimate alibi.

  Motive was still elusive. I needed to figure out if Endicott needed the money from stealing valuable treasures. There wasn’t an obviously subtle way to find out. I rubbed my hand down my pant leg and went for it.

  “I’m sorry to ask you this,” I said. “But I heard through the grapevine you might have some financial troubles. Is that true?”

  Endicott’s lip curled. “What concern is it of yours?”

  I was prepared for that question. “I know you wanted Doug’s job, but I don’t know why, especially since you’ve worked in the rare books and antiquities field for your whole career. I figured you might have wanted the higher salary.”

  Trevor shifted in his chair and averted his eyes. Even he was uncomfortable with my line of questioning. Short of asking Sergeant O’Halloran to examine Endicott’s banking and tax statements, this approach was the only way to get a direct answer about motive.

  Endicott’s voice wavered. “There’s no crime in changing career direction, Ms. Marshall.”

  “Certainly not,” I said. “I simply thought it might be motivated by financial concerns, since I’d heard rumors.”

  Endicott rocked backwards in his chair and formed a steeple with his two hands. “For argument’s sake, let’s say money pushed me to want a promotion. I don’t understand why you’re asking me about it.”

  I didn’t particularly want to spell it out for him, but he left me no choice. “Since you didn’t get the job, perhaps you had to engage in criminal activities to secure additional income.”

  Endicott’s nostrils flared. “That’s absurd. I just finished telling you those items would be difficult to move on the black market.”

  “Difficult, but not impossible,” said Trevor. “Especially coming from a man with your professional relationships. Professor Mansfield assured me you know everyone in the business.”

  Endicott rose. “He is correct that I know legitimate people, not thieves or murderers. I must return to my work, so please do not think it rude when I ask you to leave.”

  We stood up and said our farewells abruptly. When we were outside the reading room, Trevor turned to me. “I usually don’t mind a business-like demeanor, but you were rather accusatory, Kit.”

  “Besides the fact that he’s a suspect for this crime and may have a motive, he’s also trying to cast suspicion on Doug.” My voice quivered. “Perhaps I was a little harsh. But every day this murder goes unsolved, my husband’s reputation suffers.”

  Trevor never dwelled on emotional misfires for too long. “What’s done is done. Endicott certainly could have killed Gaffney. That Metro card alibi doesn’t hold water. It’s flimsy, at best.”

  “I agree. But I think Endicott was telling the truth about trying to sell the stolen items for money. He might have the network to do it, but I don’t know if our other suspects do.”

  “Where does that leave us?” asked Trevor.

  “Either Gordon Endicott is the guilty party, likely with an accomplice. Or the real motive for killing Gustav Gaffney wasn’t theft, but something else entirely.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  W

  After parting ways with Trevor and confirming I’d see him soon for the meeting with Janice Jackson, I realized that although I’d spent the better part of the day at the Library of Congress, I hadn’t seen or heard from Doug. I hoped he was able to manage the stress. I pulled out my phone and sent him a text.

  I’m @ LOC. Are you free???

  A minute later, my phone dinged.

  Busy. Let’s plan for dinner.

  I sent Doug a “happy face” emoticon so he would know I agreed with his reply. No sense in letting him know I’d run into O’Halloran this morning and he was still on the suspect list. Telling someone the police and federal authorities were investigating him for murder wasn’t best delivered via text message.

  A check on the time confirmed that I had forty-five minutes before meeting Janice Jackson, Meg, and Trevor inside the Great Hall. Walking back to our office would be a supreme waste of time. Instead, I got on the elevator, exited on the ground floor, and walked down the dimly lit hallway. Did someone forget to pay the electric bill at the Library of Congress? Or perhaps the cavernous passageways were supposed to be reminiscent of the oldest libraries in the world, like the famous Trinity College Library in Ireland, the Bodleian at Oxford, or even the fictitious Restricted Section at Hogwarts.

  The intricate design of the architecture and ceilings were so impressive, I almost walked into a signpost, which read “Main Reading Room Entrance.” I’d glanced inside the beautiful main reading room a few times from the top balcony, but never walked inside. Why not? Like Meg said, didn’t it make sense to take advantage of these impressive locations when we visited them for work? Sleuthing wasn’t technically my job, but it was close enough.

  I walked inside and spotted the entrance of the reading room at the end of a short hallway. At the very least, I could sit quietly inside and check my emails while I waited for five o’clock to roll around. I was just about to enter when a woman’s voice interrupted me.

  “Excuse me, miss, but I need to see your identification.”

  A gray-haired woman wearing a comfy-looking cardigan motioned for me to walk over to her desk. She peered at me above her reading glasses. I’d seen that look before. It was exactly how Giles stared at Buffy the Vampire Slayer when she interrupted his reading to ask about a particularly dangerous demon.

  “Do you mean this?” I pulled out my congressional identification from my purse.

  The librarian pursed her lips. “That’ll do. Since you’re a congressional staffer, you don’t need a reader’s card like the rest of the public.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I said tentatively. I suppose they had to put someone who would guard the entrance with a sharp eye and tongue.

  I walked inside the reading room and was immediately overwhelmed by the beauty and splendor that surrounded me.

  “Wow.” It wasn’t a particularly articulate reaction to my surroundings, but it was all I could muster at the moment.
The partial view from the top balcony didn’t do the Main Reading Room justice. I shuffled forward a few steps, my neck craned upwards so I could take in the full effect of the structure.

  A librarian behind the round desk in the center of the room must have noticed my stumbling. He emerged from behind the wooden barrier and stood next to me.

  “Can I help you?” he whispered.

  “I’ve never actually been inside this room before,” I explained. “I guess I’m in awe of it.”

  He smiled. “That’s a common response. Would you like me to tell you about it?”

  “Sure,” I said. “But I don’t want to take you away from your work.”

  “I’m a general reference librarian, but since I work inside this space, I spend a considerable amount of time answering questions about our surroundings.” He waved his arm around. “You can understand why.”

  I nodded, and he motioned for us to sit down behind a desk a safe distance away from researchers so we wouldn’t disturb them.

  “There’s a lot of symbolic meaning inside this room. Eight marble columns on the circular edges of the room provide the framing. Each one signifies a different field of inquiry. There’s religion, art, philosophy, history, commerce, science, poetry, and law.” His finger rotated around the room. “At the top of each of these columns is two bronze statues. For example, Beethoven and Michelangelo represent art while Shakespeare and Homer signify poetry.” He grinned. “You get the idea.”

  “What about those stained-glass windows?” I asked. “Are those the seals of the states?”

  The eyes of my librarian turned tour guide sparkled. “Exactly! Those eight stained glass windows contain the seal of the United States in the middle. Each window has six state or territory seals. When this building was opened in 1897, Alaska and Hawaii did not have status as either a state or territory, so they were not included.”

  “It’s hard to focus on research when you’re inside such a beautiful building,” I said. Nonetheless, there were dozens of researchers occupying the desks that encircled the room. Most had their heads buried in books or other Library of Congress materials.

  “This is our point of entry for many users,” said the librarian. “We have general reference librarians on staff to help navigate the collections. Many researchers will visit a specialized reading room eventually, but this is where most people start their knowledge journey.” He smiled kindly. Certainly, this man had found the right job. It always made me feel good about government when I met someone who clearly enjoyed his or her work.

  I looked around the room. “Where do the books come from? They’re not on shelves here.”

  He laughed and pointed to the center of the room where the reference desk was located. “If you look closely, there’s a door behind the desk,” he explained. “That leads downstairs to a room where the books arrive. We have a tunnel system underneath the library buildings that serve as the delivery mechanism for books that are paged. Some materials are held offsite, and trucks bring those items several times a day.”

  “That’s an amazing system,” I said. “The door looks like where you might keep the Book of Secrets.”

  “That book doesn’t exist, although a lot of fans of the National Treasure movies think it does,” he said. “I assure you there are no secret books downstairs. But there are a lot of unique books that make up our collection. And some of them do contain secrets, if you look hard enough.” His eyes sparkled. “You just need to engage our collections to find them.”

  I stuck out my hand. “You’ve been quite helpful. I don’t have time to read anything today, but maybe someday I’ll need a quiet place to think. I’ll know exactly where to come.”

  He shook my hand with a firm grip. “My pleasure.”

  After I unabashedly snapped a selfie, I walked back through the corridor where I entered. After following the helpful directional signs, I eventually found myself inside the Great Hall. Janice Jackson had said she’d meet me here in fifteen minutes. Doug had told me this area resembled Grand Central Station during the day, with tourists, researchers, school groups, and distinguished visitors passing through. Right now, it was completely empty. I found a bench and sat down with my phone. The emails were too numerous to begin triaging. Instead, I texted Meg and asked if she was on her way. She replied and said she was, but Trevor might arrive a few minutes late. Since free moments were rare, I messaged Doug and asked him about dinner plans. Three dots appeared, so I awaited his reply.

  Meet Sebastian @ Rocklands

  Rocklands was a well-regarded barbecue place in Arlington. After letting Doug know I was fine with the plan, he texted back.

  Will bring Clarence & Murphy

  We would really test Clarence’s inner angel by combining a new dog with one of his favorite foods. Since it was such an unseasonably warm day, we could sit outside with the dogs and enjoy our meal. Well, “enjoy” might be a stretch. Hopefully Clarence would be on his very best behavior. Our chubby beagle mutt loved barbecue almost as much as he loved pepperoni.

  I was so engrossed with my digital conversation, I didn’t see Janice Jackson arrive. My head jerked up from my phone when I heard my name.

  “Kit, would you like to see the Members Room, as I promised?”

  Janice Jackson was standing ten feet away. She motioned for me to follow her. We exited the Great Hall, walked past several glass display cases, and proceeded down a long, decorative hallway marked “No Entrance.”

  “Gosh, I feel like I’m getting the V-I-P tour,” I said.

  “You are,” she said. “We don’t show our everyday visitors the Members Room.”

  We turned to the right, and Janice pulled out a bulky set of keys. “Never know where my job might take me. Members of Congress request to see the darnedest places. I finally got a set of keys that made sure I wouldn’t have to say no when someone important asked.”

  After she unlocked the door, we walked into a long, stately wood-paneled room, bookended by marble fireplaces. The United States flag and Library of Congress flag stood on either side of the entrance. With a red carpet and elaborate paintings on the ceiling, it looked like the American version of a throne room.

  “This is almost as impressive as the Main Reading Room,” I said. “I stopped in for a few minutes before meeting you.”

  “This was the first reading room for Congress,” said Janice. “Now it serves as a gathering or function room. Members of Congress can hold constituent events, lunches, or other meetings here. As you might imagine, it’s quite a popular venue.”

  “You said that members of Congress ask to see unusual places inside the building, right?” I walked toward the south fireplace so I could get a better look at the colorful mosaic above it.

  Janice followed me. “This mosaic represents history. One wreath symbolizes peace, and the other signifies war. The central figure is holding a pen and book in her hand. Notice that behind her, the artist included an Egyptian pyramid, a Greek temple, and a Roman amphitheater.”

  “It’s quite elaborate,” I said. “Given what I’ve seen today at the Library of Congress, I can’t imagine anything more fitting than a homage to the discipline of history.”

  “The mosaic was prepared in Venice and shipped here,” said Janice. “And you’re right. History is our business, and it’s my job to make sure Capitol Hill knows it.” She thrust her shoulders back as her chin jutted out.

  It wasn’t lost on me that Janice had avoided my earlier question. “Does Congressman Chang ask to see some of those unexpected places?”

  Janice pursed her lips. “A good congressional relations liaison never tells her secrets.”

  “I wondered if he did,” I said. “I don’t know if I mentioned it this morning, but I visited his office earlier today.”

  “And why did you do that?” Janice plastered a smile on her face, but couldn’t hide the edge to he
r voice.

  “I wanted to talk to him about the theft and the murder,” I said. “And find out why he came to the preview display the night before instead of waiting for the congressional event the next day.”

  “I told him about it,” said Janice quickly. “Congressman Chang is new to elected office, but he’s one of our strongest supporters. We like to make sure he’s happy.”

  I was just about to ask Janice about her whereabouts on Tuesday night when Meg and Trevor walked in the room. “I didn’t know we were expecting more visitors,” she said.

  I ignored the less than subtle dig. “Janice, you know Meg, and I believe you met Trevor at the Lincoln preview event.”

  She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Yes, of course. Delighted to see you again.”

  “In my position for the Chief Administrative Officer for the House, I visit many beautiful rooms inside the Capitol complex,” he said. “I hadn’t been inside the Members Room before, so thank you for allowing me to experience it.”

  Trevor knew how and when to turn on the charm. Janice appeared delighted to lap up Trevor’s effusiveness. “Aren’t you delightful?” she said, turning towards Meg. “You’ve really found a keeper.”

  Meg blushed. “Don’t let us interrupt your conversation. We’ll have a look around while you chat.” With Janice’s back turned, Meg gave me a thumbs up.

  “I do have another question for you,” I said. “Where did you go after the display wrapped up on Tuesday night?”

  “I wanted to drop in on an important staffer who was working late. I made my way over to the Senate office buildings,” she said. “The work of a congressional liaison is never over, you know.”

  “Who was the meeting with?” I asked. “I’m sure Sergeant O’Halloran will want to verify it.”

  Janice’s face remained expressionless, but if I had to guess, she was working hard to keep her demeanor on an even keel. “It turned out she wasn’t available. Long story short, I walked over to the Senate for nothing. By the time I returned to the Library, it was late.”

 

‹ Prev