* * *
At three minutes to two, I knocked on the office door of Melba’s friend, Margie Flaxdale. A petite brunette, sixtyish and attractive, Ms. Flaxdale regarded me with a reserved expression from behind her desk.
“Yes?” she said.
“Charlie Harris,” I replied and stepped into the room. “I’m here to go through those library purchase orders and invoices.”
She nodded and pointed to a table in the corner. I saw three stacks of files, each about eight inches high. My heart sank. I’d never get through all those this afternoon.
“I will remind you that you cannot remove any of those files from this department,” she said, her tone admonitory. I felt like a third-grader being told not to talk in class.
“Certainly, I understand the rules.” I couldn’t hold back the note of frost in my words. The woman was a bit too officious for my taste.
She merely nodded. I went to the table, pulled out the chair, and attacked the closest pile of file folders. One of the spreadsheets I had found consisted of a ten-year history of the library’s major resource purchases—electronic journal collections, databases, and print resources. I was particularly interested in the current fiscal year and Peter Vanderkeller’s sudden overspending. There was something about it that bothered me, and I hadn’t been able to figure out exactly what.
The first pile of folders contained purchase orders and invoices from two fiscal years ago. I hunted through the piles and located those for the current year. I went through them, noting Peter’s signature on them. His handwriting had certainly deteriorated, I thought. His scrawl on these invoices was nearly illegible.
I realized I couldn’t really accomplish what I wanted sitting there. I needed copies that I could take to my office. This was a huge task and could take days. I closed the file and returned it to the stack.
I stood abruptly. “Thank you, Ms. Flaxdale. I appreciate your help.”
She looked startled. “That didn’t take long.”
“No, it didn’t. I have what I need,” I replied. I thanked her again and walked out of her office. I headed for the main library building. Despite my earlier intention to avoid going through the department head’s files there, in order not to arouse suspicion, I decided I had no choice. If I did alarm someone, that might not be a bad thing.
THIRTY-ONE
In the main library building I made straight for the staff area at the rear of the building. The files I wanted would most likely be in Cassandra’s office. As head of collection development and acquisitions, she was responsible for overseeing the purchase order and invoicing processes for library resources.
I greeted staff members as I passed through the public areas and continued into the technical services area. I saw Delbert Winston in his office, and the staff members appeared busy at their desks.
Cassandra’s door was locked, and I approached the ranking staff person in her department, Terrie Hall, and asked her if she had a key.
“No, sir,” she said, looking somewhat taken aback. “Delbert has one, though. It’s the same key that opens all the librarians’ doors.”
I thanked her and walked over to Delbert’s office. He had his back to me, evidently focused on his computer. I knocked on the door and said, “Good afternoon.” He started and swiveled in his chair to face me.
He blinked. “Oh, hi there, Charlie. What brings you here?”
“I need some files from Cassandra’s office. Can you let me in?”
He looked alarmed. “She doesn’t like anyone going in her office. She’ll have a fit. Are you sure you have to get in there?”
The woman apparently had everyone among the library staff cowed. Except me, that is.
“Yes, I am sure. Please unlock the door. I will deal with Cassandra.”
He shrugged. “If you insist.” He rose from his desk and pulled a key ring from his pocket. I stood aside as he exited his office and walked the few paces to Cassandra’s door.
I glanced at Terrie Hall, whose cubicle was nearby, and saw that she was on the phone. She cast a nervous glance at me, then turned her back and continued her conversation. I frowned. I didn’t know why, but I had the feeling she was talking to Cassandra.
“There you are.” Delbert opened the door with a flourish and stood back.
“Thank you,” I said. I advanced into the office and shut the door. Delbert lingered outside a moment before moving away.
Cassandra’s desk was bare of everything except her computer, keyboard, mouse, and mouse pad. Her desk drawers were locked, as were her filing cabinets.
I went to the door, opened it, and approached Terrie Hall’s desk. “Ms. Hall, do you have keys to Ms. Brownley’s cabinets?”
She stared at me, her eyes wide.
“I hope you do,” I said in a pleasant tone. “Otherwise I will have to call the physical facilities department and ask them to send someone here to force the locks. I’d really rather not damage college property, but I will if there’s no other way.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir, let me look. I think I have a set of keys that will work.” She jerked open a side drawer and scrambled through its contents. After a few moments she pulled out a ring with several small keys on it. She handed them to me.
“Thank you,” I said. “I take full responsibility for this. If Ms. Brownley is unhappy, she needs to talk to me. You are not responsible in any way. Are we clear on that?”
Ms. Hall nodded, and looked relieved. “Yes, thank you, sir.”
I smiled before I turned away. Clearly the woman was terrified of Cassandra. I would have to make sure Cassandra didn’t make Terrie Hall the scapegoat for this. It would be entirely like her to try, I knew.
The keys unlocked the filing cabinets. I wouldn’t go into the desk unless I couldn’t find what I needed in the cabinets. I checked the labels on the drawers and found one labeled POS/INVOICES. I pulled it open and scanned the folders.
I pulled out four thick files that covered the past couple of years and set them on the desk. What I didn’t see, however, was a file for the current fiscal year, which ran from July through June.
I glanced around the office, and my eyes lighted on the credenza behind Cassandra’s desk. I had overlooked them earlier, but now I saw a number of folders in a standing wire organizer. I went over to look through them and found the folder I needed. I added it to the stack on the desk. They were bulky, and I knew if I tried to carry them back to my office like that, I would undoubtedly trip, and papers would go flying in all directions.
Ms. Hall supplied a large canvas bag emblazoned with the logo of a library vendor, and I stuffed the files into that. I returned the keys, thanked her, and waved good-bye to Delbert, who had been standing nearby the whole time, I realized. He was mighty curious. Good.
On my way out I encountered Lisa Krause near the reference desk. I paused to chat for a moment. I patted the strap of the bag over my shoulder when I noticed her curious glance.
“Homework,” I said. “Purchase orders and invoices. I’ve got to get a handle on the budget, and I want to be ready for my meetings with you all on Wednesday.”
Lisa grimaced. “Have fun. I hate dealing with budget stuff, especially spreadsheets.”
“I’m not fond of them myself, but I have no choice. Have a good afternoon.”
By the time I reached my office, it was nearly three. Diesel and Melba greeted me, and Melba asked about the bag. I explained, and she nodded. “Better you than me,” she said.