The Last Page

by David J. Walker

  “Uh-huh.” He seemed to relax.

  “Of course...I’m not the government. “

  He tensed again.

  “I think Barbara – uh — Ms. Adams was looking into materials someone was checking out. Technically, I suppose she shouldn’t have. But I happen to think she had a good reason.”

  The look he gave her showed both suspicion and fear. “What…what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I’m not sure Barbara Adams’s death was an accident.”

  His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Are you saying she was…murdered?”

  “It’s possible.”

  He blew out a breath but didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “Why don’t you go to the police?”

  She fanned her face with her hand. It was much too warm in here. “I said it’s possible. And I did go to the police. They say there’s no evidence of any crime. To them, it’s open and shut. A heart attack and a fall down the stairs. They think I’m seeing crimes and conspiracies from the books I’m studying.” She shrugged, and added, “I’m in law school.”

  “Oh.” He nodded, as if that explained everything. Was that a good sign?

  “So, Mark...” She smiled again. “I need you to tell me if there’s a way to

  flag a name…that is…to pick a library patron’s name and find out what he or she has checked out. And whether Barbara could have done that herself. It’s critical.”

  He leaned back. “Only the director would have access to the kind of records you’re talking about. And if there was a way to do what you say, she’d know how. But even if she did it, the records would be deleted after a few months.”

  She leaned forward. “And Mark, as the IT wizard around here, if there was a way to flag individuals, you’d know how to do it, wouldn’t you?”

  “Tell me something,” he said, “hypothetically speaking. If I knew, why would I share it with you? If you tell people I helped, I could get fired.”

  That was exactly the question she’d have asked. “You don’t know that. But if that’s true, you could probably be fired just for reading that email and sending it on to my mother. Right?” She could read the yes on his face. “But I haven’t told anyone about that. Right?”

  “As far as I know.”

  She let that sink in. “So can you help me, just this once? You already know you can trust me to keep a secret.” She paused “I just have this sense that someone could be getting away with murder.”

  “You promise you won’t tell anyone about my helping you?”

  “I promise I’ll do everything in my power to keep you out of it. That’s all I can promise. If I’m right, you’ll be glad you helped me, and probably no one will know you did. But even if your name does come up, you’ll be a hero. Hypothetically.”

  He actually smiled then, but didn’t say anything for a long time. So long, in fact, that she was sure he was getting ready to kick her out of his office.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “Let me show you what Ms. Adams could have done. Hypothetically.”

  Julia suppressed her elation.

  He clicked on a few files. Then he opened what looked like an Excel spread sheet. He copied some information, pulled down something on the “Data” menu, and clicked some more. He went awfully fast, too fast for her to see how to repeat the procedure.

  “Okay,” he said. “Now…who do you want to flag?”

  Even though her list of suspects was short, she wasn’t sure whether he’d give her more than one chance. She’d obsessed about this, and finally had a breakthrough. She’d woken up in the middle of the night last night with an insight. Barbara hadn’t simply assigned numbers to the names of people she did research for. That wouldn’t have taken two numbers with a colon between them. No, she’d made up a “code number” for each person, a code she could easily remember, so she wouldn’t need a written list. A simple code, and Julia thought she had it cracked. So she did have a prime suspect.

  She showed Mark the list and pointed to the name. He typed it in and they both waited. Then he leaned back and she leaned forward.

  When she read what was on the screen she clamped her lips together, but in her heart she shouted, Oh…my…God!

  TWELVE

  The first name she’d given Mark Wainwright was the only one that counted, but Julia had given him two other names to throw him off the track. Then she’d feigned disappointment that he’d shown her nothing of importance. She also tried to convince him to make hard copies of what he brought up on the screen, saying she just wanted a reminder of how wrong she’d been.

  “No copies,” he’d said. “I’d be fired for sure.”

  She’d been disappointed. By the next day, though, she changed her mind. If he had made her a copy, what would she do with it? Show it to her mother? To Detective Nystrand? Her mother would tell her she’d been studying too hard and needed a weekend off. The detective would laugh at her—politely, of course…at least until she was out of earshot.

  She herself couldn’t be absolutely certain, but if she was right…well… Nothing would happen right away, but there were things to be done, and she was going to do them.

  In fact, she was going to do them tonight.

  * * *

  It was a chilly evening, so Julia wore blue jeans and her black sweater. “I’m off to the library, Mom.” She zipped up her fleece jacket and hoisted her bag over her shoulder.

  “So late?” Mavis was putting the finishing touches on a chocolate layer cake, applying the frosting in tidy little swirls. “Isn’t it closing?”

  “There’s still almost two hours, and I have some research to do.”

  “All right, dear,” Mavis said. “By the way, how does this look? It’s for the Women’s Club luncheon tomorrow.”

  “Perfect.” Julia kissed her mother and strode out to her car. She climbed inside, but before starting the engine she pulled out her cell and punched in the number.

  “JJ here.”

  “Hi. Be there in five.” She disconnected, then reached into her purse for the card with the other phone number on it. She took a deep breath, then made the second call.

  * * *

  She left the Miata in the library lot under a street light and headed inside. There weren’t many people inside. The toddlers and young children who flocked to the place during the day were home getting ready for bed. According to her name badge the woman at the circulation desk was Juli Janowicz, and she wasn’t among those whom Julia had interviewed earlier. She gave Julia a tired smile, the kind of smile that said she hoped Julia wasn’t going to be a bother, because she’d had a long day.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Janowicz. Have you seen JJ?”

  “Not recently, but I suppose I can page him for you. Your name…?”

  “Julia Fairbanks.”

  Janowicz smiled again, friendlier this time. “Oh, another Julia.”

  A few moments later JJ arrived. Janowicz nodded at them and went back to her computer. JJ led Julia across the main lobby, past Barbara Adams’s old office, down a short hall. At the end of the hall was a door leading to a meeting room with rows of chairs set up theater-style. A podium faced the chairs, with a projection screen behind it. On the back wall was a large, plate-glass window, through which Julia could see a small room with a slide projector, video player, and other equipment. JJ led her through a door into that room.

  “The A-V booth,” he said. He opened a drawer in a table and took out a small dark object, a little larger than a paper clip, with a tiny black foam ball on top. “It’s called a wireless pinhole mike, and it’ll pick up and transmit sound from anywhere in the building to this receiver.” He held up a little black box about the size of a deck of cards. “I got it from Mark Wainwright. Him and me are on real good terms. I’m the only person around here who pays any attention to him…unless something breaks down and—

  “JJ, the mike. Tell me.”

  “Oh, yeah. You just wear this, and I’ll be able to hear any conversation
you have.”

  “You can record everything, too?”

  “You betcha.”

  “How far away can this little thing pick up another person’s voice?”

  “Mark says fifteen or twenty feet, maybe more, depending on how loud the person talks. It’s pretty sophisticated. He wouldn’t say where he got it, but I think it’s like what undercover cops use.”

  “So…where do I put it? Can it be hidden?”

  “That’s the best part. You can attach it to your…you know…under your sweater, and it’ll still pick up voices.”

  “You’re sure this will work?”

  “Absolutely. I just connect this little receiver here to the recording system, and we’re good to go. Mark and me tried it. I wore it under my shirt. I mean, I didn’t tell him who wanted to use it, or mention you at all.”

  “And you’ll turn it on at five to nine, right? And you’ll be listening?”

  “Sure thing. He paused and pursed his lips. “You don’t think there’s any…you know…danger, do you?”

  “No way. Even if I’m right, this is definitely not a person with the guts to use violence. Not the face-to-face kind, anyway.”

  “Okay, but if you need help or something, just say so. I’ll come running. I can handle myself pretty good…and I know how to dial 911.” He looked at his watch. “We still got an hour and a half. What’re you gonna do?”

  “What I’m supposed to. Study.”

  * * *

  At 8:00 Julia was in the lobby, seated at a table near the stacks. No way could she study. The mike was under her sweater, and she was watching the clock. By 8:30 her stomach was churning. By 8:45 she was biting her nails, wondering if she was making a huge mistake. By 8:55 she’d almost convinced herself to forget the whole thing.

  At 9:05, though, she was still waiting, and Juli Janowicz was very anxious to go home. “I’m the last one here,” Janowicz said, “and I have to make sure the doors are locked.”

  “But I’m waiting for someone, and it’s so cold outside. Can’t I—”

  Just then JJ came through the glass doors. “Not to worry, Ms. Janowicz.” He said. “I’ll take care of everything. You go on home.”

  Janowicz was happy to go, and Julia took her place at the desk, not far from the front doors, which were locked now to anyone outside.

  Ten minutes later Julia was checking her watch when someone tapped loudly at the glass front door. She hurried over and pushed the door open. It was William Bryant.

  “Julia,” he said, a little out of breath. “I’m so glad you’re still here. Sorry to be late.”

  “Not a problem. JJ knows me, and I promised him I’d make sure the door was locked when we left. Thanks for meeting me.”

  “My pleasure.” William carried his excess weight well on his tall frame and, as usual, was fashionably dressed: black pants, black sweater, gray jacket. Armani, she guessed. Her mother would know. “I’m so glad you called,” he said “Mavis will be delighted that you and I are finally getting along.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say we don’t get along, William. I just haven’t had a chance to get to know you.”

  “Same here. I’m sure we’ll become good friends.” He smiled his car salesman smile, and she thought that if the tiny microphone she was wearing picked up anything, it would be that loud, pompous voice of his.

  “I’m sure we will.”

  He offered his arm. “Shall we go?” he asked. “I was thinking maybe O’Neills. It’s not too far away and we could have wine or coffee. Or dessert. Or we could drive down to Borders. The café is open till eleven. I’m happy to drive.”

  “Either one sounds good. Oh, but before we go…” She pulled him toward the double doors. “I want to show you something. I…I want to see what you think about it.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s in Barbara’s office.”

  “Barbara Adams?”

  She nodded, and thought his smile suddenly looked forced. “It’ll only take a moment,” she said. “It’s important. Especially since mom and Barbara were such good friends.”

  He looked hesitant. “All right, I guess.”

  She led the way to Barbara’s office and opened the door.

  William frowned. “It’s unlocked?”

  “Sure. It’s not being used these days.” She ushered him in and left the door open.

  “Now, my dear, what is it you wanted to show me?”

  “This way.” She led him around behind Barbara’s desk. On top was the file box with Barbara’s notes. JJ had lugged it upstairs one more time. She faced William and took a deep breath.

  “Do you know what this is, William?”

  His smile was definitely forced now. “Looks like a box of records.”

  “Right. Barbara’s records. Turns out she was kind of a pack rat. Saved everything she ever did. At least here in the library. Did you know that?”

  Now William’s smile disappeared altogether. “I didn’t. And you shouldn’t be going through—”

  “I know, but I just had so many questions about Barbara’s death, you know?”

  “Questions?”

  “Right before she died, Barbara was trying to reach my mother. She left two rather desperate phone messages. And an email. She said she had something very important to tell her. She seemed almost frantic.”

  “So?”

  “She said she might be putting herself in danger, but that there was something Mother needed to know.”

  William waved a hand. “Yes, well, Barbara was rather melodramatic. She enjoyed conflict, loved to stir things up.”

  “Really? And you, William?”

  “What about me?”

  “Do you enjoy conflict?”

  “Not especially.” His frown deepened.

  “Did you and Barbara have any…conflict?”

  “Julia, what the hell are you talking about?”

  Now or never, Julia thought. “In this box,” she said, “are Barbara’s notes from 1979. Part of her job then was to find articles and books that patrons requested. Does that ring a bell, William?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “1979 was the year your wife died. She was quite a bit older than you, and had some medical problems, I understand. But still, her death was unexpected, according to old newspaper articles I’ve read. That’s why I found it so interesting that you’d been doing some research in the library…just a few months before her death.”

  “Research? What are you talking about?”

  “Research about drugs. Poisons, in particular.” She held up a sheaf of papers. “Barbara’s notes. She wasn’t supposed to save information like this. But she did. Even the names of the people she helped. The names were in code, of course. But I was able to figure it out. Your initials are W.B., the twenty-third and second letters of the alphabet. So she called you 23:2.”

  “Julia, you are out of your mind.” A flush crept up his neck.

  “Your wife was probably a lot like my mother. Wealthy. Wanting companionship. And guess who shows up?”

  William turned on his heel.

  “Don’t go yet. There’s more.” He stopped, and she knew then that she was right. An innocent man would have been long gone. A guilty man needed to find out how much she knew. “Barbara discovered you were at it again. Researching poisons. Like ricin. And potassium chloride. She made the connection. Maybe she even confronted you about it.” She stared at him. “That fall down the stairs? That was no accident, was it?”

  “You’re delusional.” He was overweight, yes, but at well over six feet tall he suddenly didn’t look as soft as she’d previously thought. “You are beginning to irritate me, Julia.”

  “Am I?” The soft, threatening tone of his voice frightened her. She had thought him capable of poison, or a push from behind, but not of face-to-face violence. Until now. “JJ?” she called, in a loud voice. “I need you.”

  When there was no answer William leaned toward her and in that same menacing tone he sai
d, “I believe JJ’s gone home, Julia.”

  It was time to call this off. William wasn’t going to admit anything. “JJ,” she called again, “could you come in here now?”

  No one came.

  Julia’s stomach clenched. The audio-visual booth wasn’t that far away. If JJ was listening and recording the conversation, he should have been here by now.

  “My, my,” William said. “I’m afraid it’s just you and me.”

  A cold drop of fear slid down her spine. Where was JJ? The sound system must not be working, or he’d know she was in trouble. Meanwhile, William was edging toward her.

  She backed away, sliding around the side of the desk. “My mother knows I’m here,” she said. “She’s expecting me home any minute.”

  “Actually, she’s not. I told her you and I were going out for coffee. I’ll have to tell her you were gone by the time I got here. You’re a foolish girl, Julia.”

  She ran to the door, desperately knocking two chairs down in front of him, blocking his way. As she exited, she pressed the lock button and slammed the door shut behind her.

  Just outside the office was a large display table loaded with books. She could hear William fiddling with the door to get it unlocked. She ran over and, with the strength that could come only with terrible fear, she pushed that heavy table up against the office door.

  Now he was already pushing on the door.

  She ran in a panic…blindly….deeper into the library.

  THIRTEEN

  She ran as fast as she could. The emergency exits were locked electronically after hours and wouldn’t open, even from the inside. The front door might not be, but that meant going back toward William. And she could hear him banging the office door against that table of books.

  She paused behind a tall display announcing new non-fiction. She thought of her cell phone, but it was in her fleece jacket… in Barbara’s office. At the end of the lobby a light shone from the door to the basement. It was open. Is that where JJ had gone? She ran to the door. She couldn’t see Barbara’s office from here, but she heard that heavy table of books sliding across the floor . It was either hide or fight—and William was way too big for her. She stepped inside and closed the door.