No Cats Allowed: A Cat in the Stacks Mystery (9 page)

I was so shocked I almost dropped the phone. What a gruesome way to die. Poor Reilly. I felt sick at my stomach and did my best to keep an image from forming in my mind. No wonder the poor student worker was so upset.

“Charlie, are you still there?” Penny’s anxious tone brought my brain back into focus.

“Yes, I’m here,” I said. “You’re right, it is horrible. What on earth was he doing in the basement of the library at that time of night? Does anybody know?”

“No, I haven’t heard any other details,” Penny said. “The whole thing is truly bizarre. Whoever did it must have hated him terribly to kill him like that.”

“Yes, they sure did,” I said. “I’d better get off the line now, Penny. I’m expecting another call. You’ll let me know when I need to come to your office.”

Penny assured me she would be in touch as soon as she had further news about my status at the library, and I bade her good-bye. I set the phone down, and I saw my hand shake. I couldn’t help thinking about Reilly’s manner of death. I had loathed the man, certainly, but I wouldn’t have wished him so brutal an end.

Hatred
.

Melba couldn’t have done it, I knew with absolute certainty. She might have hated Reilly, but she was not cruel. His death was cruel.

Porter Stanley hated his former brother-in-law, I had little doubt. He seemed a far more likely candidate to have executed Reilly in such a gruesome fashion. Kanesha had better move quickly, though, before Stanley disappeared. Perhaps I ought to call her.

I reached for the phone, and it rang as I touched it. Startled, I almost dropped it. I looked at the caller ID. The number looked vaguely familiar, but I didn’t know to whom it belonged.

“Is this Charlie?” the caller said. “This is Delbert Winston.”

“Yes, Delbert, this is Charlie,” I said. I had forgotten about him. “I called right after I read your e-mail, but you weren’t available at the time.”

“Sorry about that,” he replied. “I really appreciate you calling back so quickly. I guess you’ve heard that the jerk is dead.” He sounded happy about it.

“Yes, I heard,” I said. “I also heard that he died in a particularly horrible way. Even he didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about it,” Delbert said. “I don’t think you know how nasty he really was. Frankly, I’m surprised somebody didn’t take him out years ago. He was twisted.”

The distaste in his tone was obvious, and I had to admit to
being curious about this strong reaction to the man. Delbert obviously hated Oscar Reilly. Could he be the killer? I had better be cautious in talking to him and not put him off. I might be able to extract useful information from him, information that could help Melba.

“He was not a pleasant man,” I said. “He seemed to cause turmoil around him.”

“He did, in spades,” Delbert said heatedly. “I can’t figure out why the hell anybody thought he’d be the right person to run the library while they look for a permanent director.”

I wondered how much the high-level library staff, like Delbert, Lisa, and Cassandra, knew about the budget crisis Peter Vanderkeller left behind when he decamped. I didn’t want to say anything out of turn, because if they didn’t know about it, I didn’t want it known that I was the one who told them.

“I suppose it had something to do with his financial background,” I said. “Maybe President Wyatt wanted someone with a firm hand on the budget.” I thought that was suitably diplomatic enough and didn’t give anything away.

Delbert laughed, a short, sharp sound. “So you’ve heard about the mess good ole Petey left us. I can’t believe how idiotic he was. Surely the man had better sense. But I guess he didn’t.”

“At least he didn’t embezzle it,” I said. “It was careless of him to overcommit the budget that way, but I’m sure he had the best intentions.”

“He probably did. We all want to make sure the students and faculty have access to the resources they need,” Delbert said in tones of great patience. “But at the end of the day, we have only so much money, and we can’t spend what we don’t have.”

“No, I understand that, but the president is going to have to get it sorted out, not us.” I decided it was time we got to the point of why he wanted to talk to me. “What is this urgent personal matter you want to discuss with me?”

“Oh, yeah, that.” Delbert paused, long enough that I thought I would have to prompt him again. Then he spoke. “You’ve been involved in murders before, haven’t you? I mean, I’ve heard about you helping the sheriff’s department a few times.”

“Yes, I have helped a bit,” I said. I had a bad feeling about this.

“That’s good,” he replied. “I mean, that you’ve got experience. I need help from somebody who knows how to deal with the cops.”

“Why?” I asked. “Do you have information about the murder? If that’s the case, the best thing you can do is call the sheriff’s department and tell them what you know. Or if you don’t feel comfortable talking to them, call Martin Ford. He’s a good guy, and you can talk to him.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Delbert said. “Look, this is how it went down. Before I heard about the budget crap, Reilly came to me the first week he was put in charge. He’s talking to me about the acquisitions budget, as well as my cataloging budget, asking me all sorts of questions, trying to figure out the process of ordering and paying for resources. I guess because he didn’t want to deal with that witch Cassandra. I explained everything as patiently as I could, and he went away.” He paused for a long breath. “Then, he comes back a week later, and all of a sudden he’s wanting to look at invoices, purchase orders, spreadsheets—all kinds of documentation. So I give him what he asks for, even stuff he should have gotten from Cassandra. He goes away. Then a few days later he’s back again, like some damn dog with a bone. This time, though, he tells me he thinks I’ve been fiddling with the books and that I must have
embezzled like a hundred grand out of the acquisitions budget. All because I’m the selector for the history and art history departments, and they have endowed funds that I manage. Cassandra can’t stand it because she can’t tell me what to do with the money.”

With all the controls the college had in place to insure against fraud, I was surprised that Reilly could have found anything suspicious. I said as much to Delbert.

“Right, I know. You have no idea how many hoops I have to go through to get purchase orders and invoices okayed. There’s no way I could embezzle anything.” He sounded disgusted. “Maybe if I was some high-priced accountant, I could figure out a dodge, but I was a classics major, for crying out loud. What the hell do I know about cooking the books?”

“Yes, I can see your point.” I didn’t necessarily agree with him but there was no point in my antagonizing him. “He accused you of embezzling. What was your response?”

“I went ballistic,” Delbert said. “See, I’ve got a temper. Most of the time I’m this quiet, mild-mannered guy, gets along with pretty much everybody. But I have a quick fuse, especially when some idiot like Reilly comes along and calls me a criminal. I totally lost it, and I was screaming at him like nothing you’ve ever heard. And you know what?”

“No, what?” I said, because he was obviously expecting me to.

“The jackass just sat there and stared at me with this superior little smile on his face.” Delbert sounded surprised. “I couldn’t believe it, and it just made me angrier. I grabbed this brass bookend I have and was about to brain him with it, and then he got up and walked out. I went after him, though I had enough sense to put down the bookend, and I was yelling all kinds of things at him.” He paused. “I guess I even said I’d kill him if he ever came
back and accused me of anything like that again. So you see why I’m worried, don’t you?”

“Did anyone besides Reilly hear you make those threats?” I asked.

“All of technical services,” Delbert said. “You’ve been in our area, you know what it’s like. All those cubicles are open, and if you’re loud enough, they can hear everything.”

“You’re worried you could be a suspect in the murder,” I said. “I really think you should go to the sheriff’s office and make a statement before they have a chance to hear about it from anyone else. I’ve known Chief Deputy Berry for several years now, and she is tough and determined. She’s also principled and intelligent. She’s not going to railroad anyone. If you didn’t do it, you don’t have to worry about it. Just tell her the truth.”

There was only silence on the other end. Had I angered him? I wondered. I wasn’t sure what else he expected me to do, other than to give him the benefit of my experience.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally said. “You won’t go to her and tell her about this, will you?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” I said. “I will respect your confidence for now, but eventually you will have to talk to her and be straight with her. Just think about it this way. How would you feel if the wrong person is arrested and charged with the murder?”

Delbert laughed, a harsh sound. “I’d just as soon give the guy a medal for getting rid of Reilly. He’s no loss to anyone, believe me.”

“He may not be, but we can’t let a murderer go free,” I said. “What if the killer goes after someone else?”

“Why would he do that?” Delbert seemed surprised.

“If the murderer feels threatened somehow, he—or she—might do anything for self-protection.”

“I hadn’t thought about it that way. Interesting,” Delbert said.
“But if someone is smart enough, they can keep the killer from finding out what they know.”

Something about his tone made me suspicious. “Delbert, if you know anything else about this, I cannot urge you strongly enough—for your own safety—to talk to Kanesha Berry.
As soon as possible
.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said. “Look, thanks for your advice. I appreciate it.” He ended the call.

Did he really know anything that could be dangerous? For his sake I hoped I was misreading the situation.

If I wasn’t, however, he could end up in a lot of trouble—or worse. I really ought to talk to Kanesha, I decided. I didn’t have to break Delbert’s confidence—at least, not yet—but I could emphasize that she really needed to talk to the senior library staff. There was no telling what kind of accusations Reilly might have made against Cassandra or Lisa, for example. He could have subjected them to the same kind of intimidation.

My phone rang and pulled me out of my rumination.

“Hi, Sean. Are you still at the jail? How’s Melba?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m still here,” he said. “They plan to hold Melba for a while longer.”

“Why? Surely they haven’t charged her with anything. What’s the holdup?”

“They haven’t charged her. Yet.” Sean sounded grim. “But I think it’s only a matter of time.”

“Why?” I asked again.

“They have evidence tying her to the scene,” Sean said.

“What evidence?”

“A tube of pink lipstick that she says is hers.”

“Pink lipstick?” I said, momentarily confused. Then my mind cleared, and I understood the significance.

Sean started to explain, but I cut him off.

“Yes, I know what it means, Son. I was there when Reilly found his car vandalized with the lipstick, and Melba told me about how the lipstick was stolen from her desk.”

“That’s right,” Sean replied. “I’m sure the killer planted the lipstick on the body to implicate Melba.”

“And that means the killer also played the prank on Reilly.”

“More than likely yes, or the killer stole the lipstick from the prankster. We can’t overlook that possibility.”

“No, you’re right,” I said. “I should have thought of that.”

“I imagine you would have,” Sean said, a touch wryly. “Look, Dad, I have more to do here, then I’ll be going to the office. I may call you later to discuss this. Would you be able to come to the office?”

“Sure,” I said. “I don’t have a job to go to at the moment, so I’m free.”

“You’ll have to tell me about that later. Bye.”

I was thankful my son was there to help Melba. In situations like this, he remained cool, always watching out for his client. Melba couldn’t be in better hands.

I hated for her to languish in police custody, though. I knew how galling it must be to her, and I wished there were more I could do to help her. I would have to stick my nose into this, though I knew Sean would worry, and Kanesha might be furious.

I decided I would call Kanesha, even though she was in the midst of this investigation. I speed-dialed her cell.

“I know you’re swamped,” I said the moment she answered. I rushed on before she could respond. “Look, you know as well as I do that Melba didn’t kill Oscar Reilly. She would never do such a thing. There are other much more likely suspects. In particular, there’s Reilly’s ex-brother-in-law, Porter Stanley. You’d better track him down before he disappears.”

“Thank you, Charlie, you’re always helpful.” Kanesha did not sound grateful, but at least she didn’t sound furious, either. “I was planning to get around to you later today. For your information, I am aware of Mr. Stanley’s existence, and I am trying to track him down. Will you be at home today, or at the archive?”

“Home, unless I’m with Sean at his office,” I said. She was obviously in a hurry to get me off the line, so I would explain about my job later.

“All right. I’ll check with you later.” She ended the call.

I set the phone aside and thought about my options. Despite what I had told Sean and Kanesha, I was thinking about leaving home and heading for the library. Then I remembered that it was closed for the
day. That frustrated me, because I itched to
do
something. Talking to people in the library would be relatively easy. I couldn’t go knocking at their doors at home and expect them to invite me in to talk about why they might have a reason to kill Oscar Reilly.

Diesel padded into the room and meowed. I patted the sofa and indicated that he should join me. He came closer and climbed up beside me, resting his head on my leg. He stared up at me, then twisted his body until he lay on his back. That was a signal that he needed his chest and belly rubbed. He didn’t do this often, and I hastened to fulfill his wish.

He purred as I stroked and scratched. No doubt he had a bellyful of treats from Azalea to add to his contentment.

As always, taking time to focus on Diesel helped me calm myself and order my thought processes. He was a remarkable tonic at times, I thought affectionately. Better than anything my doctor could prescribe.

I hoped Kanesha would be able to locate Porter Stanley soon. He was my favorite suspect. He had seemed menacing to me, and I didn’t imagine he’d had Reilly’s best interests in mind when he tracked him down here in Athena.

Had Stanley come here intending to kill Reilly?

If he had, surely he would have been more unobtrusive about it. He wasn’t exactly a man who could fade into a crowd, not with his height and those broad shoulders. If he had been in the library last night, there ought to be witnesses who could place him there. Students could be oblivious when they were studying, but there ought to be at least one or two who would have noticed him.

Delbert Winston, on the other hand, was exactly the kind of bland, nondescript man who
could
be overlooked. Average height, an ordinary face, neither handsome nor homely, bland coloring,
bland clothing, and so on. Until I had known the man for a couple of years, I had trouble remembering who he was when I saw him around the library.

I couldn’t remember if there was a security camera in the basement. There ought to be, of course, but that didn’t mean one existed. All the sports facilities and the scientific laboratories on campus had them, but the library was rather farther down the priority list when it came to expenses like security cameras and monitoring systems.

I ought to mention that to Miss An’gel and Miss Dickce. They were avid supporters of academic programs at the college, and I knew the welfare and security of students, staff, and faculty were important to them. Yes, I really should talk to them about it.

Now was as good a time as any, I decided, and picked up my phone.

Miss An’gel answered after three rings. “Charlie, what on earth is going on at the college? Dickce and I have been sitting here talking about it. Do you know any of the details?”

Diesel’s keen ears detected the voice of one of his pals, and he warbled loudly. He wanted to say hello to Miss An’gel. I told her that before I attempted to answer her question.

“Tell him I said
hello
back. And tell him Endora and Peanut are looking forward to seeing him again soon.”

Diesel had accompanied me a couple of times to Riverhill, the sisters’ magnificent antebellum home, and he had made friends with the Abyssinian cat, Endora, and energetic Labradoodle, Peanut, the sisters adopted several months ago. He also adored the sisters’ young ward, Benjy Stephens, now a freshman at Athena.

“He would love to come see you all, I know,” I told her. “Now, back to your question.” I filled her in on what I knew and, after a moment’s hesitation, told her about Melba as well. She knew
Melba and had a high regard for her, and I knew she would be concerned for her.

“Dickce, you’ll never believe this,” she said when I finished. I heard her sharing some of the details with her younger sister. Then she spoke into the phone again. “How gruesome. He must have been a terrible person for someone to hate him that much.”

“I suppose so,” I said. “I didn’t care for him, I can tell you that much.” I might as well tell her about Reilly’s plans for the library. I gave her a quick rundown, and as I expected, she was outraged.

“I don’t know what Forrest was thinking,” she said. “I’ve got a good mind to call him up and tell him if he goes through with any such thing, he can count on never seeing another dollar from me and Sister.”

“Don’t be hasty, Miss An’gel,” I said, though I had to admit this was exactly the reaction I had hoped for. “Now that Reilly’s gone, I’m sure the president will rethink his plans for the archive. The publicity around all this isn’t going to be good for the college.”

“No, it isn’t,” she agreed. “I think a meeting of the board of trustees is in order, and I’m going to call Forrest right away. Dickce happens to be president of the board this year. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t,” I said. “That’s excellent news.”

“Don’t you worry about the archive, or your job there,” Miss An’gel said. “The board will sort out the issues with the budget. Now, you tell Melba that Sister and I will be praying for her, and if she needs anything, anything at all, she should let us know.”

By that, I knew Miss An’gel meant that she and her sister would happily give Melba the money, if she needed it, to pay any legal fees.

“I’ll thank you on her behalf,” I said. “I know she will appreciate your kindness.”

“You call me the minute you hear anything more,” Miss An’gel said, and I promised I would before we said good-bye.

I put the phone aside, feeling rather smug. “It’s good to know people who can get things done,” I told Diesel. He meowed as if he agreed.

I also felt a bit callous, but there was nothing I could do for the dead man. Kanesha would see justice done on his behalf. The living were more important, and the library and its staff needed help to recover, not only from the ghastly murder, but from the budget crisis also.

The doorbell rang, and Diesel climbed down from the sofa and scampered out the door. He loved visitors and usually reached the door before either Azalea or I could.

As I stepped into the hall, I saw Azalea at the door, the cat right by her side. She opened the door and remained in front of it. I couldn’t see who the visitor was until I reached them.

Lisa Krause, her face blotchy from crying, stood on the doorstep. Azalea urged her to come in, but Lisa didn’t respond until she saw me.

“Charlie, I’m so worried,” she said. “I’m sorry to keep showing up on your doorstep like this, but I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

“You come right on in here, child.” Azalea gently took Lisa’s arm and pulled her in. “Come on into the kitchen, and I’ll make you something to drink. Coffee? Or hot tea?”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Lisa said. “Hot tea would be great.”

Azalea led the young woman into the kitchen and got her seated at the table, then busied herself filling the kettle with water and putting it on to boil.

I took a seat across from Lisa. She looked pitiful. I had never seen her upset like this, but she was obviously distressed.

“I’m happy to do what I can to help you,” I told her. Diesel had gone to sit by her, and I knew he would be rubbing his head against her leg in an attempt to comfort her. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Lisa’s glance flicked to Azalea and back to me.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Azalea will help, too.”

“Thank you,” Lisa replied. “I’m so scared, Charlie, I don’t know what to do.” She choked back a sob. “I’ve been terrified ever since I heard the news about the murder.”

“What has terrified you?” I asked. “I can’t believe you killed the man. Did you?”

“No,” Lisa said, obviously fighting hard to retain some composure. “But I may be the reason he’s dead.”