Death Among The Stacks: The Body In The Law Library (5 page)

“
Where did you hear that
from?”

“
From John Meadowlark. I
think that he may have been making it up, though. He also said that
he thought our boss likes to wear leather and play sadomasochistic
games. What a mind that man has. I think the whole idea is that he
likes to be titillated.”

“
How did the library staff
get along? Were there the usual politics in the work
place?”

“
There were catfights and
things could get a bit nasty. Mostly email wars. That kind of
thing.” Sledge notices that the questioning has made Ms. Brown very
uncomfortable. He senses that she is holding something back. She
doesn’t seem to like being in the position of having to say
unpleasant things about people—especially about her former
colleagues.

“
Even though I’m retired, I
still see my friends from the library often. When all is said and
done, the library’s employees are like one big happy family, with
all of the ups and downs that go with it. I will say this for the
staff: if anyone had any health or psychological problems, the
employees and the management really were ‘there for them’. When my
parents died, everyone from work came to the funerals. And none of
them had ever even met my parents.”

“
Why did you leave the
library? You are pretty young to be retired.”

“
I’m one of those lucky
people who were able to have a guaranteed pension after I turned
50. If you read the local newspapers, you’ll find that these kinds
of pensions are not too popular these days, to put it mildly. We
paid into our retirement fund, but the newspapers don’t want to
acknowledge that because they prefer to lead the public into
believing that our cushy pensions are being paid on the backs of
taxpayers. Of course, the newspapers only list the retirement
income of the highest echelon of government employees as examples.
But don’t get me started. I’m just glad that I left when I did,
because I think there will be some big changes coming down the
pipeline. Maybe, the age you can retire will move up. Something
like that.”

Sledge answers, “Well, it’s been common
knowledge for years that government workers have good benefits. My
Dad used to lecture me about it, saying, ‘Get a government job or
join the service; have some ‘financial security’. That’s why a lot
of people apply for government jobs in the first place, I think.
But, I guess there are people out there who prefer to think that
somebody is getting something that they aren’t and it makes them
angry. I have strong feelings about it too, Ms. Brown,” he says
with a smile. “I’m proud to call myself a public servant.” Sledge
realizes that he’s saying far too much about himself and not enough
about the investigation. ‘I’m getting way too comfortable here
chatting away with this pleasant lady in her beautiful home,’ he
admonishes himself. ‘Get back to business!’

“
Would you like some more
iced tea?” Ms. Brown asks.

“
No, thank you. I’ve taken
up enough of your day already. Thank you for answering my
questions. And thank you for your hospitality.”

“
It was my pleasure. Let me
know if there’s anything else I can do for you. I really hope you
find the killer, Detective Sledge.”

“
Have a nice day, Ms.
Brown,” he says as he walks out the door.
Why do I feel like she’s hiding something?
he asks himself.
How did I develop
into this cynical person who doesn’t trust anybody?
I guess it comes with the job.

*******

His cell phone rings as he is leaving
her house, and his boss tells him that she wants him to fly to
Maryland to interview Gaylord’s family and coworkers. She’s
arranged a flight for him that leaves in the morning.

That night, as he is walking down from
the master bedroom, he loses his footing mid-way and tumbles down
the stairs, landing with a loud thud. His wife runs down the stairs
to see what happened.

“
Oh, my God. Are you
alright?” she asks.

“
I don’t think I can stand
up. Can you get me the ice pack?”

He’s had problems with his knees
before, so there is always one in the freezer, ready to
go.

He lies on the floor for twenty
minutes, holding the ice pack to his knee.

“
I feel really pathetic,” he
tells his wife.

“
Maybe we should get you to
the doctor’s?”

“
He’s gone home by
now.”

“
I’ll take you to the
emergency room, then.”

“
Don’t be silly. It’s just a
sprain.”

“
Okay, then. Try to stand
up. Let me help you.”

He tries to stand and feels a sharp
pain shooting up in his leg. “I can’t stand,” he tells
her.

“
We’re going to the
hospital, then,” she insists.

Chapter Ten

The 747 lands heavily on the runway in
Baltimore as the rain pounds on the airplane fuselage. Willis has a
death grip on his armrest. When he heard that Sledge fractured his
knee in two places and needed to stay off his feet for a few days,
he inwardly groaned when he was told that he’d have to go in his
place. He was in the service and flew around the world many times
but has never been comfortable flying. The two rum and cokes don’t
do much to calm his nerves either.

As the plane taxis to the gate,
everyone in the plane begins to stand--much to the chagrin of the
crew. “Please, will everyone remain seated until the plane is
secured at the gate!” the stewardess snaps over the intercom. The
chiding catches everyone by surprise as if they were school
children being scolded by an angry teacher.

A passenger who’s standing to retrieve
his stuff drops his bag and computer into Willis’ lap sending his
notes and bag flying. “These idiots should be busted!” Willis
mutters under his breath. “Why me?”

*******

Willis finally makes it off
the plane and out into the terminal. Just outside the gate he is
greeted by a man in a plain suit, dark sunglasses and a sign that
reads “Officer Willis”.
Who is
this?
Willis
thinks.

The man approaches him and says, “Are
you Officer Willis?”

“
Yes, that’s me; who wants
to know?”

“
Easy fellow,” the man
returns. “I’m Agent Brewster, FBI. William Brewster. You can call
me Bill. Sledge asked me if I could help you out with your
inquiries. We go way back. Spent some time in the service together.
Man, did we have a time together. Anything you need while you’re
here, just ask.”

Brewster catches Willis
off-guard. He feels a bit upset that Sledge thought he needed to
have a chaperone. This was his big chance to show he could do some
real police work by himself.
Boy, I guess
he thinks I’m just not ready.

Brewster senses Willis’ feeling and
says, “Don’t worry, pal; Sledge thinks the world of you, don’t take
it personal. This is your case, just think of me as a resource. I’m
here to help. Sledge has always been like this. You’re not
alone.”

“
I’m sorry,” Willis says. “I
guess I was just caught a bit off guard after the flight and all.
I’m not used to flying and the weather was awful.”

“
Get used to it. It’s
supposed to be like this for days.”

Willis collects his bags and he and
Brewster are met at the curb by another FBI man in a plain,
unmarked car. “Meet Agent Simkins,” Brewster says. “He’s going to
help us; I mean help you, get all the information you need on this
Gaylord fellow. Sledge emailed me all the information he had on him
and Simkins was able to get you quite a folder of stuff from our
databases.” Brewster hands Willis a large manila envelope marked
“Gaylord” as the car pulls away into the rainy streets of
Baltimore.

“
Where they got you
staying?”

“
I’m at the Motel 6 on
Washington.”

“
Ooh, sounds like you guys
are on a budget, eh?”

“
Yeah, things are tight in
the department. They’re trying to save every last penny, even
limiting our range time, you know, only so many bullets
even.”

“
Jeez, it’s too bad. Ever
think about working for us? With all the Homeland Security money
rolling in, we’ve got whatever we ask for. Pretty nice
gig.”

“
It’d be really nice to have
all the stuff you guys have. Hell, if we could just get some
up-to-date computer systems, I’d be happy.”

“
Feel like something to
eat?”

“
Nah, I’m going to have an
early night, I want to get started on digging through all this
information here. Thanks a lot for the help.”

“
Any time, Willis. We’re
here to help. Here’s my number. Call me anytime if you need
anything. We’ve got eyes and ears into stuff you can only dream of;
so, should you get stuck, give us a ring. Have a good night and
good luck with your case.”

Willis grabs his bag and dashes into
the motel lobby, dripping wet.

The motel room was basic and sparse.
The department was certainly not spending excessively. Willis could
hear the constant roar of jet engines taking off and landing from
his room. The motel was near the airport and what little
soundproofing it had barely made a difference. Dropping his bags on
the bed, he phoned the department to let them know he made it to
Baltimore.

“
Lucy, this is Willis. I
made it to Baltimore in one piece.”

“
Wow…Baltimore,
Maryland?”

“
Yes, Lucy. Baltimore,
Maryland. Remember you got me this tickets right?”

“
Oh sure. Don’t make fun of
me. I just forgot. How was your flight?”

“
Piece of cake. No problems
at all. I’m used to it. All that flying in the service. It’s
raining pretty hard here though.”

“
Sorry to hear about that.
Do you need to talk to anyone?”

“
Is Detective Sledge
in?”

“
Let me check. Hold on a
sec.”

Willis sits on hold listening to the
department’s public service messages while the rain began to come
down harder. He hopes he wouldn’t screw this up. Meeting with the
FBI guys and getting all the information from them on Gaylord seems
to raise the importance level of things a bit higher for him. This
could be a chance for him to shine; he hopes he won’t let them
down.

“
Willis? How’s it going? How
was your flight?” Sledge breaks in.

“
It’s going well. The flight
was fine and I’m digging into some information on Gaylord right
now.”

“
Did you meet
Brewster?”

“
Yes sir I did. Says he
knows you and that you go way back.”

“
Yeah, Brewster and I were
in the Corps way back when. We had ourselves a time, we did. Got
into some situations in the desert. Brewster saved my life more
than once.”

“
Wow, I had no idea. He gave
me an envelope full of information on Gaylord. I had no idea they
had so much information about people.”

“
You’d be surprised what
they have, Willis.”

“
That’s what Brewster
said.”

“
So what’s your schedule
look like?”

“
I’m going to see Gaylord’s
two sisters tomorrow morning. Then I want to talk to his coworkers
at the Government Printing Office. Finally, I’ll take a look at his
apartment. Hopefully I can get some more information about this guy
for us.”

“
Sounds good, Willis. Let me
know if you need anything from us. I want you to get some good
information for us on this case. I have a feeling there’s a lot we
don’t know yet that you’ll pickup there.”

Willis feels his stomach churn and his
throat close up a bit from the pressure of expectations. “I’ll find
out everything there is to know about him. You can count on me,
sir.”

“
Great. Well, I’ve got to go
now, I’m checking with an old buddy on one of the library
employees, Kelly, who used to be in the Corps. Seems she might have
a bit of a past that we need to know about. In the meantime, don’t
work so hard. Enjoy a bit of the nation’s capital. It’s quite a
historical place you know.”

“
I’ll see what I can do,
sir.”

Willis hangs up
thinking,
when the heck would I have time
to visit Washington D.C.? They only gave me two nights here and put
me in this cheap motel.
He lies back on the
bed and opens the envelope Brewster gave him. He spends the rest of
the night reading and absorbing as much as he could about Gaylord.
He falls asleep to the distant roar of jet airplanes taking
off.

Chapter Eleven

The next morning, Willis awakes to a
knock on the door.

“
Room service,” a voice
pleads.

“
Room service, Mr.
Willis.”

“
Hold on, I’ll be right
there.”

Willis stumbles out of bed searching
for his pants. Pants on, he opens the door to find Agent Brewster
doing his best room service imitation.