Let's Play Dead

by Sheila Connolly

  “I hear you. What on earth did she want with you?”

  “She thinks I persuaded Arabella that the events at Let’s Play were somehow connected to Hadley-like a crazy stalker or something. I never did anything of the kind, except to suggest to Arabella that there were possible motives that didn’t involve her or Let’s Play. But Hadley wasn’t happy when the police showed up at her place, asking questions.”

  “You think she’s involved in some way?”

  “Before now, I thought it was just one rather remote possibility, but having met her, it seems a whole lot more likely than I previously thought. Do you really want that book of hers?”

  “I thought maybe I’d donate it to my church-they’re having a rummage sale soon.”

  “That sounds about right to me. Poor Chloe. I can’t imagine working for someone like Hadley.”

  “What, you never had a boss from hell?” Shelby asked.

  “I’ve worked for some rather, uh, challenging people, and they weren’t always pleasant, but I’ve never taken that kind of abuse from anyone, and I wouldn’t stand for it. How about you?”

  “There’ve been a few interesting interactions. But not with you, of course-you’re a peach.”

  “Of course I am.” I grinned at her. “But you have my permission to swat me if I start showing signs of morphing into a Hadley. Her take on Arabella was interesting, though. I may be way off base, but I think Arabella is exactly what she seems to be-a very sweet woman, who loves children and loves making her museum welcoming. Whereas Hadley is a crass and pushy, uh, dame who oozes insincerity. I’ll take Arabella any day.”

  Shelby stood up. “Well, if the excitement’s over, I’ll get back to work.”

  “Oh, Shelby? Thanks for interrupting us. I might have said something regrettable if you hadn’t walked in.”

  “That’s about what I figured. I thought I’d lay on a little southern sweetness and save you from Hadley-and yourself.”

  Eric hovered uncertainly near my door, and Shelby smiled at him as she passed by. I gestured to him to come in. “Did you want to say something?”

  “I feel bad that I distracted Chloe. She looked like she wanted to burst into tears, so I took her down the hall for some coffee. But I probably made things worse, because then Miss Hadley was annoyed at her.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Eric. I gather Hadley is annoyed at everybody, all the time. I wonder how Chloe stands it.”

  “She needs the job. She told me that it sounded so perfect when she saw the ad. I guess Hadley can turn on the charm when she wants to, long enough to hire someone, but it didn’t last.”

  “Did Chloe say how long she’s been working for her?”

  “Six months, maybe? But I’d bet it won’t be for much longer. Chloe’s already taking antianxiety medication, and she says she’d rather do anything else than work for that woman any longer. Chloe was an English major, which is why she thought working for an author would be so cool.”

  I felt an immediate pang of sympathy. As a former English major myself, I knew how bleak the prospects were outside of academia. “Let me talk to Melanie. Maybe we have an opening here where she’d fit. You know, you learned quite a bit about Chloe in a short time.”

  “She looked like she needed a friend. I know what that feels like,” Eric said simply.

  “Good job, Eric.”

  CHAPTER 14

  The next morning I woke up thinking about electricity again. I needed more information, and I didn’t think the kind of questions I had could be resolved by reading a short publication or even by a quick Internet search. I had reviewed the basic concept of electricity, but I couldn’t even say whether ordinary current-as opposed to high-voltage wiring-was enough to kill someone. The big question was: how do you electrocute someone?

  I was troubled. When I had mentioned to James that the victim at Let’s Play could just as easily have been me, I hadn’t been joking. In fact, I’d already found out that I didn’t know enough to guess whether the flaw in Willy’s wiring had been set to shock indiscriminately-that is, whoever was first to touch it would be zapped-or targeted to a specific person. And the timing was odd. If someone had wanted to do harm to a random patron, wouldn’t they have waited until the exhibit was open? Maybe the culprit hadn’t wanted to risk harming a child? I shuddered at the very thought of a child getting hurt.

  My next question was, who could have rigged this up? Not me, and I figured I represented an average person. An electrician could have, sure. But was there someone who fell between ignorant me and a trained professional, who would know how to manage it? And how would that person have gained access to the wiring for the Harriet exhibit? That might have been the easiest part: as I had told James, plenty of construction people had been wandering in and out of Let’s Play lately, and it was unlikely that anyone would challenge their right to be there-which suggested slack security or a charming naiveté among the staff of the museum.

  But that was outside my purview. However, I was the president of an institution that occupied an aging building, and who knew how many electrical problems were just waiting to happen to us as well? I recalled that we’d had the building assessed a few years earlier, in contemplation of a renovation project that had withered for lack of serious funding. I could dig out those records and see what the results had been. Luckily, as the new kid, I was entitled to take a fresh look at our problems in that area-as long as it didn’t cost the Society anything. I could probably locate the person who had done the original evaluation and have him walk me through the reports, if I asked nicely. I could inquire about what wiring changes we might need for modern surveillance systems and computer connections, as we hoped to improve our security. We might be able to afford those things someday, and I would look responsible if I investigated them now, rather than waiting. And I could ask all sorts of dumb questions about wiring along the way. It was a plan.

  My enthusiasm carried me through breakfast and the train ride to the city, and into work. Once again Eric was at his desk waiting for me, looking like an eager puppy.

  “Mornin’, Nell. Great day, isn’t it?”

  “I hope so. Hey, I’ve got a challenge for you.” I could have sworn his ears pricked up, and if he’d had a tail he would have wagged it. “A couple of years ago, or less than five, anyway, the Society commissioned a structural evaluation of this building, to see what we needed to fix and how much that would cost, and to put together a wish list of smaller construction projects that we could undertake if we ever found the money. We called it something like The Ten Year Plan. Do you think you could track that down for me?”

  “I’d be happy to. Uh, where do you think I should start?”

  “Why don’t you and Shelby work together to find it? I’m pretty sure that I remember reviewing some portions, looking for text that I could lift for grant proposals, so there’s probably a copy somewhere in the development office.”

  “I’ll get right on it. Oh, did you want coffee first?”

  “I’ll get my own. Do you want some?”

  He dimpled. “Why, thank you, ma’am. I’d truly appreciate that.”

  I hung up my coat and set off for the coffee room, where I found it unusually tidy-I suspected Eric. I really didn’t expect this initial enthusiasm to persist, but it was lovely while it lasted. I made a pot of coffee and watched it percolate, my mind wandering.

  Felicity Soames, our long-term head librarian and queen of the reading room, came in just as the coffeemaker finished gurgling and dribbling. “Good morning, Nell. How’s the new boy working out?”

  “He does seem like a boy, doesn’t he? He’s survived living alone in Philadelphia, and it barely seems to have touched him. But to answer your question, fine, so far. And he makes good coffee.”

  “I thought I detected someone else’s hand in yesterday’s brew. That’ll get him my vote any day.” She lowered her voice. “Awful thing about Let’s Play, isn’t it? They really don’t need this kind of trouble.”r />
  “I agree.” After a moment, I decided I might as well launch my inquiry into our own electrical state now. “I’ve decided to check our own electrical specs-anytime you’ve got an old building like this, there are bound to be patches and quick fixes, and I’m pretty sure we’re pushing our load limits, or whatever you call them. Perish the thought that we should ever try to add more lines.”

  “Or a security system?” Felicity added wryly. “Good idea, and it will make us look good, being proactive. But if whoever looks finds something that’s not up to code, we might find ourselves having to do some tap dancing to fix things up. It’ll cost money.”

  She was right, and she would know-she’d been here longer than anyone else in the building, as far as I knew. “Doesn’t everything? But some things we can’t afford to put off. We’ve got a building full of paper and other flammable objects here, and an electrical fire would be devastating.”

  We were both silent for a moment, contemplating the unthinkable horror of such a thing. Then Felicity shook herself and stepped forward to pour a cup of coffee. “I’d better enjoy this while I can-it wouldn’t do to set a bad example for our patrons. No food or drink in the reading room!”

  “I hear you.” I filled two mugs and carried them back to my office. Eric wasn’t at his desk, and I wondered if he had gone off hunting for documents already. I’d leave him to it and see how he did.

  He was back before his coffee cooled, clutching a thick folder. “You were right-there was a file in development.” He deposited it on my desk with a flourish. “But like you said, what’s in there is mostly descriptive. I’ll go through the files out here and see if there’s any more detail. Or would the business manager have them, do you know?”

  “You’re amazing. But drink your coffee first. And he might-you can ask him.”

  “I’m on it!”

  I sat back with my coffee and contemplated the weighty, battered folder in front of me. It dated from two presidents back-an individual with grand schemes and little fundraising prowess. I was glad the document existed, but saddened by the sheer volume of things that we should be doing, that we couldn’t possibly do. At least, not now. Maybe in a few years. I opened the folder and riffled through the pages until I came to something that looked vaguely like a wiring study-one that was less than complimentary about the status quo, which hadn’t changed since the document was written. Again, I had to wonder if we would trigger any official attention-like citations for egregious code violations-if I asked someone to look at the wiring again. All I really wanted, right now, was someone to explain to me what I was looking at in the report, and whom I could pump discreetly for information along the way. But I had no electrical connections-I smiled at my own pun-in the city and only a vague knowledge of how the city’s licensing and oversight agencies operated. I needed a consultant.

  “Eric?” I called out. “You know any electricians?”

  He came and stood in the doorway. “No, ma’am, I do not. I live in an apartment, so I don’t have any call for one. But I’ll see what I can find out. Do we have a wiring problem?”

  “Not yet, but I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Amen!”

  My thought exactly. “Why don’t you get in touch with the company that did the last review and see what they’ll tell you?”

  “Right away.”

  Eric came back a few minutes later, looking troubled. “Problems already?” I asked.

  “Well, no, or maybe not. I called that company, and they said they’d be happy to come on over and tell you what they said-for a fee. And they won’t tell you anything about the state of things now, because they’d have to start all over again and look at the wiring. I figured maybe you didn’t want to go that far right now.”

  I sighed-so much for the easy route. Eric was right, of course. I couldn’t throw money at this casually, even if it was for a good reason. And we weren’t anywhere near ready to do a complete review at the moment, even if we could afford it. “Thanks, Eric. I’m not surprised. And you’re right-I didn’t want to run up any bills for it right now. Thanks for checking, though.”

  “You don’t have any friends in the construction trades, in Philadelphia?”

  I shook my head. “Nope, I live in the suburbs, and I think the rules are different here, plus this is a public building, not a home. So anyone I do know would probably be useless to me. I’ll ask around, though.”

  Poor Eric looked disappointed that he hadn’t been able to help. His shoulders drooped as he headed back to his desk. I tried to think of who might know someone I could talk to. Most of our staff members were not particularly skilled at the construction arts: give them an old book and they were in heaven, but give them a hammer and they were clueless.

  Shelby knocked on my door frame. “You look like somebody’s rained on your parade.”

  “Just thinking. You wouldn’t happen to know any Philadelphia electricians, would you?”

  “Of course I do. When John and I moved into our little town house, the wiring was a mess, so we had the whole place redone. You looking for an electrician? Eric said something about that.”

  “I just want to make sure we’re not at risk for any unfortunate accidents. We can’t do a whole reevaluation right now.”

  Shelby lowered her voice. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Arabella’s little problem, now, would it?”

  “Yes and no,” I admitted. “As the president of the Society, I have primary responsibility to make sure that our building is safe and our treasures properly protected. As witness to Jason’s mishap the other day, I’d really like to know how that could happen. You can draw whatever conclusion you like.”

  “I’ll go find that guy’s business card. If I lay it on thick, he might do me a favor. He wasn’t cheap, but he did good work. At least, all the lights are still working at my place.”

  “Thanks, Shelby.” One more small task I could check off my list. I dove back into the several dozen others.

  I looked up what seemed like mere minutes later to find it was after three o’clock, and Shelby was standing in the doorway once again. “You have time to talk to Barney around five? He’s got a job in the neighborhood and said he could swing by.”

  Barney, Barney… did I know any Barney?

  “Barney Hogan, my electrician pal,” Shelby prodded.

  “Oh, right. That was fast! You didn’t promise him anything, did you?”

  “Well, maybe a quick look at some early Philadelphia sports memorabilia, if that’s not too much trouble. He’s a lifelong fan of Philadelphia baseball.”

  Interesting system-bartering our information in return for other information. I’d have to think about broader applications. “Seems fair enough. Of course, I don’t know a whole lot about sports, but maybe he can tell me what he’s looking for. Five o’clock, you said?”

  “Yup. Want me to hang around?”

  “At least long enough to introduce us, please. You’re welcome to stay if you want-two ears are often better than one, particularly when it’s all Greek to me.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll bring him up when he gets here.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Shortly past five I could hear Shelby’s laughter and the deeper rumblings of a second voice approaching. Eric snapped to attention at his desk. Shelby played right along with him. “Eric, this is Barney Hogan. I believe Nell is expecting us.”

  They waited as Eric knocked on my half-closed door and then popped his head in. “The electrician is here, Nell.”

  I suppressed a smile-I wasn’t used to all this formality. “Send him right in, Eric. And thank you.”

  Shelby entered first, then stood aside as Barney extended a hand, and I stood to shake it. He was a paunchy, sixtyish guy, wearing work clothes, and he looked a bit battered by the years. “Barney Hogan. Shelby tells me you’ve got some questions about the wiring here?”

  “I’m Nell Pratt. Yes, she’s right. You’ve heard about the accident at Let’s Play
? In light of that, I thought I should make sure nothing like that could happen here. We had a full assessment done a few years ago, but I wasn’t directly involved at the time and didn’t get all the details. I’ve looked at the original electrical report, and I’m not sure how to interpret it-I’m hoping you can help. I made copies of the relevant parts, if you’d like to take a look.” I handed him a slim sheaf of photocopies.

  “Would y’all like coffee?” Eric asked from the doorway.

  I glanced at Shelby and Barney, who shook their heads. “No, we’re good, Eric. You can go on home now.”

  “You sure?” he asked. When I nodded, he went back to his desk to collect his things, and I turned my attention back to Barney. I let him read the documents I’d given him for a minute or two before I asked, “Can you tell me if any local codes or regulations have changed since that study was done?”

  “Not much. And this looks pretty solid-I know the company, and they’re honest. At least as far as the evaluation-I won’t go so far as to swear their prices are fair.”

  “I looked over the report, but I’m not equipped to understand most of it. Can you give me a quick summary?”

  “No problem. What you’ve got here is an old building-what, a hundred years old?”

  “A bit over,” I answered.

  “Okay, a century old, and there’ve been several overhauls over the years, right? Brick and concrete construction, which makes it a pain in the patootie to run new wires. I think when you folks were thinking about renovating, they might have planned to do some serious demolition and then run new conduit in the new construction. That didn’t happen, right?”

  I shook my head. “It was a good idea, but we didn’t have the money. Still don’t. I guess what I’m asking now is, is there anything that is a potential hazard right now or that’s likely to deteriorate and become one in the near future?”

  Barney sat back in his chair. “That’s hard to say. Electrical demands have changed in the last few years-lots more computers, better lighting. Nowadays they don’t necessarily draw a lot of power, but it all adds up. And since you’re not putting in new lines, the old ones get more and more loaded. If they’re running where they shouldn’t be, they could be subject to wear. And you can’t discount the occasional mouse chewing on wires.”