He did deign to follow me to the car after I thanked Melba for looking after him.
“You know it’s always a pleasure.” Melba grinned. “He was doing just fine until you texted me and I told him you were coming to get him. That’s when he started acting all haughty and peeved.”
“I’ll try to make it up to him.” I thanked her again and then got the cat into the car for the drive home.
All was quiet at the house. Haskell, I knew, was on duty, and Stewart’s car was in the garage. Stewart and Dante were probably on the third floor in their suite, as I had come to call it.
Diesel had thawed enough by now that he let me stroke his head a couple of times. After we each made a bathroom stop, he followed me into the den. I powered up my desktop computer, because I didn’t want to take the time to retrieve my laptop from my bedroom. I hung my jacket on the back of the desk chair, rolled up my sleeves, and started my searches to dig up information on my list of suspects.
I never ceased to be amazed at the amount of information you could find on people. After only a little poking around, I found Nancy Dunlap’s résumé on her library’s website. She had achieved the rank of full professor at her university, and I skimmed through a list of publications and professional activities until I found her degrees listed. She had earned a bachelor’s degree in biology, a master’s degree in library science, and a second master’s degree in biology. Though biology wasn’t chemistry, it was still a science, and that made Nancy Dunlap more interesting as a suspect. I checked back through her résumé to find a description of her current position, and there it was: liaison to the departments of biology and chemistry, along with mathematics. Nancy Dunlap obviously had the necessary contacts.
Next on the list to check was Cathleen Matera. I found her information on a social media website for professionals who wanted to network with one another. I supposed if I took the director’s job I might consider creating a profile on it for myself, although I wasn’t sure what purpose it might serve. I pushed that distracting thought aside and focused on Ms. Matera’s background. English major and liaison to the departments of English, foreign languages, and fine arts. I recalled vaguely that cyanide was sometimes used in photography in the developing process, but I doubted it was used much these days because of its extreme toxicity. I left a question mark by Cathleen Matera’s name and moved on to the next person.
Sylvia O’Callaghan, I discovered, had retired three years ago and did not appear to have active connections to an academic library. From what little I could glean about her, she must have been an English major. She didn’t appear all that promising. Besides, I wondered if she would have murdered her friend Maxine Muller. Another question mark. Kanesha would probably find out more about her than I could.
Harlan Crais had been a history major and had a master’s degree in European history, along with his master’s degree in library science. His position as an upper-level library administrator didn’t seem to include liaison work, but if he had been a liaison in the past, I doubted it was for a science department of any kind. Thus, no promising connections there that I could discern.
Mitch Handler, though, turned out to have a bachelor’s degree in organic chemistry along with the obligatory library science degree. He also wrote science fiction. As I would have expected, his liaison duties included the typical science departments at his campus.
Bob Coben, the final person on my list, had what was to me the most interesting background. He had been a music major—his instrument was apparently the oboe—with a minor in biology. Not a combination I would have expected to find. Still, it did give him a bit of a connection, though his liaison duties included the music department, fine arts, and biology at his school.
I was pretty sure I remembered both Marisue’s and Randi’s backgrounds, but I checked to make sure. Both had been English majors in college, and Marisue came to library school right after college, as I had done. Randi, I knew, had worked for about seven years as a secretary before deciding she wanted to be a librarian. I left question marks by both their names, though I strongly doubted either of them had committed two murders.
I had been so absorbed in my research that I had neglected Diesel, and I became aware of a large paw on my thigh. Claws dug into my leg ever so slightly, and I looked down at him, amused by his innocent expression.
“Yes, I know I’ve neglected you terribly today. Come on, let’s sit on the sofa together, okay?”
Diesel understood the word sofa. He climbed onto it right away and waited for me to take my place. Once I was seated, he stretched out, his head and front legs in my lap. I talked to him for a couple of minutes and combined words with suitable physical gestures that soon had him purring loudly.
Once Diesel yawned and appeared to go to sleep, I allowed my thoughts to return to the information I had learned about the librarians who had attended Gavin’s party.
The source of the cyanide—keeping in mind that I didn’t know for sure that cyanide was the murder weapon—was key to the solution. Any of these eight people could have ordered cyanide over the Internet, obviously. But if several of them had sources closer to hand, it was possible they had obtained the cyanide that way.
I realized, of course, that I was spending a lot of time on this—time that no doubt could have been better spent focusing on the major life decision I had looming before me. But I didn’t want to think about that decision right now, or about the decision facing my daughter and son-in-law. It was easier to let myself be distracted by the double murder, even if all my speculation and information gathering turned out to be useless. Kanesha possessed the actual facts in the case—as far as they were known at the moment, that is. I didn’t.
Kanesha. I promised to e-mail her with the information I had received earlier from Marisue and Randi about Gavin’s expensive car and my idea that he could have been blackmailing people to get the money for it. There was the information about the party to share as well, although I hoped Lisa Krause would tell Kanesha about that. I needed to get back to the computer to take care of it. I didn’t like composing e-mails of any great length on my phone. It was simply too tedious.
The cat resting partly on my lap and partly on the sofa deterred me for a few moments longer. I eased Diesel off my lap, got up from the sofa, and let him stretch out. He opened his eyes, yawned, and then closed his eyes again. He seemed content to let me leave him there.
At the computer I opened my home e-mail, and a few minutes later I sent Kanesha a message containing the information I had promised to send her. Whether she would find it helpful, I didn’t know, but at least she had it.
My cell phone rang, and I picked it up to see who was calling. Laura.
My heart started racing. Was she calling to tell me they’d made a decision about Virginia?
TWENTY-FOUR
My hand trembled so badly I almost dropped the phone on the floor. I managed to tighten my hold on it, though, and tapped the icon to answer the call.
“Hello, sweetheart, how are you?” I was thankful my voice didn’t waver.
“Hi, Dad,” Laura said. “I’m a little tired, as usual, but otherwise okay. How has the conference been going?”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to give my daughter any reason to worry, because she had more than enough to occupy her mind right now. “It’s been okay, a few hiccups. I’ll tell you all about it later.” I hoped she wouldn’t press me for details. I would tell her about the murders another time.
“Better you than me.” Laura giggled. “I don’t care much for meetings like that, especially these days.”