Larceny at the Library

by Colleen Shogan

  “You didn’t see anything or anyone in the vicinity of the Great Hall?” I asked. “You might have returned near the time of the murder.”

  She shook her head vigorously. “I bypassed the Jefferson Building. I walked back to the Madison Building directly.”

  “I see,” I said. “Too bad.”

  “Of course, I told all of this to the police. You can check,” she said confidently.

  I nodded. “Do you have any idea who might have done this?”

  “None whatsoever,” she said. “That’s what I’ve told everyone.”

  “I heard a rumor that you and Gustav Gaffney didn’t get along. Was he pressing you to do more in your job? Was he dissatisfied with your work?”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “That’s par for the course in the field of congressional relations. Everyone expects miracles, when legislators these days are pulled in a million different directions. It’s almost like I can wave my magic wand and secure unlimited funding and legislative fixes to every last problem.”

  I was sympathetic to Janice’s point of view, but I still wanted to know if Gustav rubbed her the wrong way. “You’d known Gustav for a long time, hadn’t you?”

  “Yes.” Her face was blank. “What does that matter?”

  “At the D.C. Public Library, you were colleagues earlier in your career,” I said.

  “We were, but I don’t see how that matters. I left that job for my current position at the Library of Congress.”

  “And then Gustav arrived here about a year ago,” I said. “Is that right?”

  “I suppose so,” she said. “Time flies by, doesn’t it?”

  Trevor and Meg circled back to us. I wasn’t getting anywhere with Janice on her relationship with Gustav Gaffney.

  “Thank you again for letting us see this room,” said Trevor. “We didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”

  “We weren’t talking about anything consequential,” said Janice, glancing at her watch. “I’m afraid we should lock up this room now.”

  “Would you like to join us for a drink around the corner?” asked Meg. “Kit mentioned you might join us for happy hour.”

  “I’d love nothing more. But I need to finish some work in my office. I’ll take a rain check.” She hustled us out, shut the door firmly behind us, and locked it. We retraced our steps back to the Great Hall where we said our goodbyes.

  “Would you like to join us, Kit?” asked Meg.

  I glanced at my watch. “Sure, if it’s speedy. I’m meeting Doug and Sebastian for dinner in Arlington tonight, and I don’t want to keep them waiting too long.”

  Ten minutes later, we each had a libation in hand at the Pennsylvania Avenue wine bar Sonoma. Meg and I had ordered a glass of the Italian bubbly Prosecco, and Trevor opted for the bartender’s recommended Cabernet Sauvignon.

  After our first sips, Trevor leaned in. “Are you any closer in solving the case, Kit?”

  I sighed. “This one is a puzzler. Everyone says they have an alibi, but their claims have more holes than Swiss cheese.”

  Meg giggled. “I prefer mozzarella.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Trevor, are you sure you’re really in love with her?” I elbowed my best friend on the bar stool next to me.

  “Guilty as charged,” he said. “Pun very much intended.”

  I placed my flute on the bar and rubbed my temples. “I’m not sure how to move forward. On top of it all, Doug is still a suspect.”

  Meg placed her half-empty glass next to mine. “Don’t get upset, Kit. It’s always like this right before you solve the mystery. Let’s go through it systematically. Person by person.”

  “Alright,” I said slowly. “There’s Joe Malden, the Library’s top lawyer.”

  “What’s his motive?” asked Trevor.

  “He resented Gustav Gaffney for getting the number two spot,” I said. “He’s also romantically involved with Lea Rutherford, the rich donor.”

  “And Rutherford didn’t like the victim, either. He didn’t agree with Lea’s ideas for future exhibits,” added Meg.

  “Is that really a motive for murder, though?” asked Trevor.

  “They could be in it together,” I said. “They’re each other’s alibis for the night in question. The two of them might have hatched this plot to get rid of Gustav once and for all.”

  “Even more importantly, he also didn’t like their romantic relationship,” said Meg. “He let Joe know he disapproved.”

  Trevor sipped his wine. “Okay, I’m convinced. Definitely enough there for motive. Let’s move on.”

  Even though Trevor had mellowed since he started dating Meg, his bossy persona managed to surface from time to time. “Next is Gordon Endicott, the rare books director. He didn’t have a beef with Gaffney, but he has the connections to move stolen goods,” I said. “As you know, Professor Mansfield confirmed it.”

  “He certainly did,” said Trevor. “He has an alibi, but it sounds like a potential setup to me. He was awfully eager to explain how Metro cards work.”

  “And while he didn’t admit to being short on cash, he didn’t deny it, either,” I said.

  “Wasn’t he also trying to implicate Doug?” asked Meg.

  “Joe Malden seemed to think so,” I said. “But that could have been a diversion on Malden’s part to cast suspicion elsewhere.”

  “Anyone else?” asked Trevor.

  “Janice Jackson,” said Meg. “She and Gustav weren’t the best of pals. We learned earlier today that they worked together at the D.C. Public Library. There’s a history there.”

  “I tried to ask her about her past and her work relationship with Gustav. She’s definitely spent a lot of time with elected officials. She knows how to bypass the hard questions,” I said.

  “What about an alibi?” Meg took the last sip of her Prosecco.

  “She dropped by a Senate office to see a staffer. She walked through the congressional tunnel, only to find out the person wasn’t around,” I said.

  “Maybe O’Halloran could check her alibi for you,” said Trevor. “Verify it or something.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “I’ll text him to ask about it.”

  “Last, but not least, is Congressman Henry Chang.” I drained my flute and placed it next to Meg’s empty glass. She motioned the bartender for a refill, but I waved him off. I needed to head back to Arlington for dinner and one drink was my limit.

  “There’s definitely something fishy about him,” said Meg. “He’s way too eager.”

  “Does he have an alibi?” asked Trevor.

  “Not really,” I said. “He claims he returned to his office and worked for a while. No staff were with him.”

  “Someone surely saw him walking through the corridors or tunnels,” said Trevor. “Or the security cameras might have captured him.”

  “If he’s telling the truth, I’m sure the police could either confirm or disprove his alibi,” I said. “The problem is that Sergeant O’Halloran isn’t authorized to investigate Chang. He’s a member of Congress and he’d need solid evidence.”

  “And we don’t have any,” said Meg glumly.

  “Well, we do have this.” I reached into my purse and pulled out the business card I lifted from Chang’s office. “When the Congressman left the room to meet with a constituent, I took a look around and found it.”

  “He’s been talking to a dealer in rare collectible items,” said Trevor, fingering the card.

  “It’s circumstantial,” I admitted. “After all, his office is decorated with all kinds of historical memorabilia. He could be buying or selling something legitimately.”

  “Did you tell O’Halloran what you found in Chang’s office?” asked Trevor.

  I shook my head. “I thought about it but decided not to mention it. I don’t think he would have liked t
he fact that I lifted something from a potential suspect’s office. Especially since the office belongs to a United States congressman.”

  “Probably a good move,” said Meg. “But if you truly suspect Chang, you’re going to need O’Halloran’s help to verify his whereabouts after the preview ended.”

  I threw a few bills on the bar for my drink. Meg had a good point. “I’d better update him about what we learned today. It confirms what he said earlier. Everyone claims to have an alibi, but they’re all flimsy. Including Doug’s, by the way.”

  “If we think of anything, we’ll be in touch,” said Meg.

  “Tell Doug to hang in there,” said Trevor. A man of uncomplicated emotions, Trevor rarely offered sympathetic words. Perhaps Meg was rubbing off on him.

  I gave Meg a side hug. “Enjoy your evening.”

  I was a step away from leaving Sonoma when I heard a familiar voice behind me. “Kit Marshall, is that you?”

  Although I was pretty sure I’d regret it, I turned on my heels and faced the music. “Clarissa Smythe?”

  There was no mistaking Clarissa Smythe. One of the most sought after campaign fundraisers on the Hill, Clarissa cut an impressive figure. With wavy auburn hair and a Soul Cycle body, Clarissa drew attention wherever she went. Her track record as a fundraiser didn’t hurt, either. When Clarissa signed up for a campaign, she always outraged her opponent. Her scorecard registered more wins than Tom Brady.

  “Of course, it is, darling.” She sashayed towards me and pecked my cheek.

  “You must be gearing up for campaign season,” I said. “Are you here to pick up new clients?”

  “Maybe a few,” she said slyly. “Do you have any prospects for me?”

  Clarissa had been involved with a murder during Maeve Dixon’s last close election. Since that episode, she’d been a reliable source of information. Maybe it was dumb luck she’d spotted me.

  “As a matter of fact, what about Henry Chang?” I asked. “Have you been approached to help him with his reelection?”

  Clarissa’s perfectly red lips turned downwards in a frown. “That new congressman? He’s an odd duck.”

  “So you do know him,” I said.

  “Of course I do,” she said quickly. “There isn’t a first-term member of the House who doesn’t want me to work for them in their next cycle. But that guy gives me the creeps.”

  Clarissa didn’t scare easily. “What’s wrong with him?”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing, really. I mean, he’s a single guy in Congress who never held political office before. He likes reading books about history and collecting old souvenirs.” She paused to take a sip of wine. “Kit, you have to understand. I’m a fundraiser. I need to sell my clients. How do I sell that?”

  “You got me there,” I said. “He’s not married or attached?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. He doesn’t even own a dog. If he had a golden retriever or even a Labrador, then I could promote that. But there’s nada. Just his dusty books or pictures or whatever they are.”

  “Don’t worry, Clarissa,” I said. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for other opportunities for you.”

  She smiled, displaying her mouthful of perfectly white teeth. “Thanks, honey. Tell Maeve I’ll see her soon for a meeting.”

  I wagged my fingers goodbye at her and walked out the door. I hadn’t said anything to Clarissa, but I was unaware that my boss had a meeting with her on the schedule. Maeve usually included me during her political strategy sessions. I made a mental note to ask her about it after the murder had been resolved and life returned to normal.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was headed toward the I-395 highway, heading home to Arlington. Sebastian was on his way to pick up Doug and Clarence. They’d meet me at Rocklands BBQ shortly. The temperature was holding in the mid-fifties. A little chilly for an outdoor meal, but you had to take what you could get in mid-February.

  I decided to give Sergeant O’Halloran a call. When we bought the Prius a few years ago, we wisely invested in a hands-free dialing system. I thought I’d use it mostly for work calls during my commute, not following up on a murder investigation. It reminded me of a Christopher Walken quote I ran across a while ago: “At its best, life is completely unpredictable.”

  O’Halloran picked up after only one ring. “Sergeant, this is Kit Marshall. I wanted to check in with you about the Library of Congress investigation.”

  “Ah, yes. The larceny at the Library. As far as everyone is concerned, nothing else matters these days. Do you have any revelatory insights to share?”

  I recapped my day, focusing on Congressman Chang’s uncorroborated whereabouts on Tuesday night, Janice and Gustav’s prior relationship at the D.C. Public Library, Endicott’s possible financial concerns, Lea Rutherford’s apparent dislike of Gustav Gaffney, and Joe Malden’s all-too-convenient alibi.

  “That’s quite a load of information, Ms. Marshall,” said Sergeant O’Halloran. “You covered a lot of ground today.”

  “I’m not sure it made a difference,” I said in a somber voice. “I still don’t know who killed the Assistant Librarian and stole the Lincoln items.”

  “Don’t despair. This is likely a professional job. No way an amateur can crack this one. You might want to tell your boss and the Librarian of Congress that you’re out of your depth.”

  I wasn’t ready to give up, especially if Doug was still a suspect. “If the motive was theft, then why did the perpetrator only steal two items from the safe? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Our experts are working on it, Ms. Marshall. It might be the case those would be the easiest to move on the blood antiquities market.”

  It sounded like a weak excuse to me. “If it’s just the same to you, I’m going to continue to pursue the notion this was a murder first and the theft was an afterthought.”

  O’Halloran sighed. “It’s a free country, especially with your boss and the Librarian giving you the green light.”

  “Did you verify Janice Jackson’s alibi for that evening?”

  “I’m pretty sure we had someone look at all the Library of Congress employees on their security footage. Let me check my notes.” I heard the shuffle of papers. O’Halloran was old school. He was pen and paper all the way. “Here it is. The security footage showed her exiting the Library and in the direction of the congressional buildings. At exactly the time she claimed.”

  That might be a dead end, but I wasn’t giving up so easily. “I know you don’t like investigating elected members of Congress, but do you think you could check on Henry Chang’s alibi for me? I’m sure there would be security footage if he went through the underground tunnels back to his office.”

  O’Halloran paused a moment before answering. I suspected he didn’t want to expend any resources on my hair-brained theory, but he also wanted to avoid blowback if I told Maeve Dixon or Miriam Dunlap he wasn’t cooperating. I didn’t like playing hardball, but with no other feasible options, I had to apply the leverage available to me.

  “I might be able to assign someone to look back through the tapes for Chang,” said O’Halloran. “But this is going to have to stay between us. I don’t want anyone hearing about the investigation of a congressman. Get it?”

  “Sounds fair to me. If I get any other concrete leads, I’ll let you know.”

  “Later, Ms. Marshall.” He paused for a beat and I heard the distinct crackle of a candy wrapper. “Bleez weeb airfool.”

  Luckily, I’d been around O’Halloran long enough to know that he routinely spoke with his mouth full.

  “Yes, I’ll be careful,” I said, shaking my head. “Good night, Sergeant.”

  I clicked off my hands-free dialing system, pleased with my multi-tasking. I’d convinced O’Halloran to check out Chang’s alibi and made it to the restaurant in record time. As I pulled into the parking lot, I recognized S
ebastian’s black Tesla Model 3 parked in the “electric car only” space. For a guy who came to D.C. as a self-avowed protester, my little brother had certainly acclimated to living inside the Beltway. Of course, Sebastian claimed his car investment was merely a reflection of his supercharged, socially conscious eco-friendly lifestyle.

  Doug and Sebastian were already outside, sitting on a picnic table with beer bottles in tow. Clarence and Murphy were on opposite sides of the table, both with their black noses in the air.

  I walked over and took a seat next to Doug, who gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Glad you made it, Kit. I didn’t know if you wanted a beer.”

  “I stopped by Sonoma with Meg and Trevor earlier. I think I’m fine without.” I gave Clarence a pat on the head and noticed he was wearing his blue bandana. “You dressed Clarence up for the occasion.”

  Doug smiled. “He hasn’t worn it in so long, I decided to celebrate the warm weather.”

  “What a beautiful day. It reminds me of California,” said Sebastian, with a small dose of wistfulness in his voice. “I’m watching Murphy for Lisa tonight. She needs to log some extra hours at work, but Murphy wasn’t needed. I picked him up on Capitol Hill and then picked up Doug and Clarence.”

  Immediately, Clarence wiggled his butt. He loved to acknowledge his name in conversation. I reached down and patted his head. “These doggies are really excited about having barbecue.”

  “Don’t worry. We ordered some extra chicken for them,” said Doug.

  With ribs and brisket on the table, I seriously doubted whether Murphy and Clarence would be satisfied with poultry. But I suppose chicken was better than nothing.

  “What’s new with you guys?” asked Sebastian.

  “I’m sure Kit spent the day trying to convince the police and anyone who would listen that I didn’t murder the Assistant Librarian of Congress two days ago,” said Doug.

  “You are correct,” I said. “Unfortunately, I don’t know who killed Gaffney. You’re not in the clear quite yet. But I’m working on it.”

  “That’s why Lisa had to stay at work late tonight,” said Sebastian. “All available police officers are tracking down leads.”