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FORTUNATELY, THE LIBRARY became a little quieter after book club let out and after the flurry of checkouts that happened after book loving club members were released out in the stacks. I saw Fitz had curled up asleep with an older man who was reading a magazine and was dozing on and off himself by the fireplace.
About an hour from closing time, I saw another man come in. Fred usually came to the library right after work, still wearing his suit and tie. He had a briefcase full of work, as always. He’d told me before that he got a lot more caught up with his work at the library than he did at home—his house was too distracting and he lost focus. I could pretty much count on him like clockwork.
I remembered Fred worked in the financial realm, but couldn’t remember if he was a banker or in investments. I walked over to where he was setting up—in the back near an outlet for his laptop. He looked up when I approached him and gave me a friendly smile.
“How’s it going, Ann?” he asked. “If you’re going to give me another book recommendation, you should know I’m still working on that World War Two story you gave me.”
I smiled at him. “Well, it was a big book. You shouldn’t have any trouble renewing it since it’s not a recent release. No, actually, there was something else I wanted to ask you about.”
He put down his papers and sat back in his chair to more fully focus. “That sounds serious. Okay, shoot.”
I said, “It’s about Roger Walton. I was wondering if you knew him—or maybe even worked with him. I know you’re in finance, but I can’t remember exactly what you do.”
Fred sighed. “I did hear the news about poor Roger. And yes, I did work in that same office. The new police chief came in recently and asked us a bunch of questions. I actually got to know Roger pretty well since there weren’t many of us in the office. I’m a little surprised you knew him, though. Roger didn’t seem like the sort of guy to hang out at the library. At least, I never saw him here.”
I said, “No, I never did, either. One of my patrons was a relative of his and set us up on a blind date.”
Fred thought about this for a moment and then slowly shook his head. “Nope. Can’t see the two of you together at all. Not to speak ill of the dead, but that wouldn’t have worked out.”
I said, “The more I learn about Roger, the more I have to agree with you. Unfortunately, I was the one who found him . . . it was the night of our date.”
Fred winced. “That sounds like a nightmare.”
“It was, even though I didn’t know him at all. And a friend of mine might be considered a suspect. I’d really like to clear my friend’s name.”
Fred nodded. “I can get that. So, what do you want to know?”
“First off, I heard he’d given one investor bad advice,” I said.
He chuckled. “I’d say he gave many more than one really bad advice.”
“Was he bad at his job?” I asked.
“Not really. I mean, I’ve given bad advice, too. We do the best we can with forecasts for different stocks or funds. But we’re not fortune tellers. We have no idea if the market is going to crash or have a setback or whatever. I didn’t mean to say Roger didn’t do a good job. There were many more investors who were pleased with his advice and gained steady earnings,” said Fred.
“There was one client who was particularly unhappy with his advice,” I said.
Fred considered this, nodding his head. “I think I remember. An old fellow, wasn’t it? He came to the office and really let Roger have it . . . on more than one occasion, I believe.”
I said, “I’m actually friends with the client. He seemed to think Roger had ruined him almost on purpose. That it was a dereliction of duty or that he was totally heedless.”
Fred snorted. “Sorry, but that’s simply not true. It was a market fluctuation, that’s all. I gather he lost a lot?”
“A lot,” I agreed.
“Well, I will say Roger shouldn’t have had him put all of his eggs in one basket, no matter what. Especially at his age,” said Fred.
I said, “Did you hear about what happened with Mary Hughes?”
Fred nodded. “I heard it on the radio this morning. Awful. I simply can’t believe it. Are they saying it was a robbery?”
I shook my head. “No. There is nothing of value there. It definitely seemed to be an attack on Mary.”
Fred sighed. “I liked Mary, but she could be a tough person to be around. She continually thought she was getting the short end of the stick at the office and that she was being held back because of her gender.”
“Was she?” I asked.
“No. She was being held back because she was difficult. Mary was super smart and had a good track record with investments, but she was prickly. She also liked to gossip. I’d always make sure I never made any personal phone calls at the office where Mary could overhear them. Otherwise, the next thing I knew, Mary would be giving me a card signed by everyone in the office that they hoped my mother was feeling better soon. That kind of thing. I know she meant well, but I didn’t like the thought she was listening in on my conversations.”
“Was there anything else that held Mary back?” I asked. “Like Roger?”
Fred smiled. “You have been looking into this. But what else could you expect from a reference librarian? You’re right—Roger got the promotion Mary felt she deserved. And honestly, truth be told, I thought Mary deserved that promotion, too. Roger was also difficult to work with. Mary had been there longer and had a better track record than Roger did.”
“Can you explain why Mary may not have gotten the promotion?” I asked.
“Roger told some sort of madcap story about Mary. I don’t even know what it was, but it could have been anything—that she was accessing sensitive files? That she was pilfering a little on the side? Whatever it was, it not only kept Mary from getting the well-deserved promotion, but it resulted in her being fired from the firm,” said Fred. “And she did not take that well. As a matter of fact, I’d have thought Mary might have killed Roger. But now it doesn’t make sense that Mary was murdered, as well.”
I glanced at the clock. “If you’re going to get all your work done, I’d better let you get started. But thanks, Fred, you’ve been a big help.”
I started walking away and then Fred gave a little yelp, which made me turn around. He was looking at Fitz with an astounded expression on his face. “A cat!” he said, in the same tone one might use to say ‘a baboon.’ Fitz was brushing against Fred’s pants leg and curling around him.
“Sorry,” I said, wincing. “We acquired a cat since the last time you were here. Do you not like them?”
“I do,” he said weakly. “I love animals, of course I do. It was just a surprise, that’s all. Kitty-kitty?” He reached down a tentative hand and Fitz jumped up on the table to curl up like a centerpiece next to Fred’s laptop.
I walked away smiling as Fred became the latest victim to be sucked in by Fitz’s charms.
The next hour was completely consumed by a patron who was trying to locate some long-lost relatives without a computer at home. This was harder than it seemed because the last name of the people the patron was trying to find was Smith. Fortunately, by the end of the hour, I’d had some luck, and she walked away smiling.
Luna walked up to my desk and gestured for me to follow her. I did and saw Fitz in the children’s area, sprawled out in a child’s lap as the child read to him.
Luna said, “This cat isn’t for real! I’ve heard of kids reading to dogs, but kids reading to cats?”
“We need to take pictures of this,” I said.
“Because no one will believe us if we talk about it,” muttered Luna.
Wilson walked up to see what we were looking at. His face lit up at the sight of Fitz and the little boy with the book. “Pure marketing gold,” he said. “Look, Ann, you need to be taking pictures when you see scenes like this. We need content that will keep our community engaged.”
“Fitz was already a hit on social media when we started the naming contest. Now that people have met him, it’s good to keep updating his library activities online,” I said.
Wilson said. “Fine. I do have one big concern and I’m open to ideas on how to handle it.”
“I’m vacuuming a couple of times a day,” I said quickly.
“Not the allergies. I’m worried about the bottom line,” said Wilson.
Luna said, “Of course. Who’s paying for all this?”
I frowned. “Paying for all what?”
“Fitz’s food and litter and stuff. Fitz looks like he’s the kind of cat who might have a good-sized appetite,” said Luna.
I looked over at the cat who was now licking one of his paws while perking his ears as the child read Thomas the Tank to him. “Well, a patron brought in a slew of stuff to get us started. Although, you’re right, I didn’t really think of a long-term plan for his expenses.”
Wilson said, “Ideas?”
I was still thinking about Wilson asking me to take pictures of the cat. “How about a calendar?”
“What? A calendar?” asked Wilson, brow furrowed. Luna said, “That’s perfect! We’ll all take cute pictures of the cat and we’ll make them into a calendar. It’s easy and shouldn’t cost much. Maybe we can even get the printer to give the library a discount or even give it to us for free if we put an ad for them in the back. Then we can use it as a fundraiser to buy supplies for Fitz.”
“It’s not the end of the year, though,” said Wilson, frowning.
“We could make a 15-month calendar or something,” said Luna with a shrug. “If I know this cat, and I’m starting to think I do, then there will be at least 15 opportunities to get an adorable picture of him.”
Wilson snapped his fingers. “Okay, you sold me. I think it’s a great idea. Let’s make it happen.” And with that edict, he hurried away again.
Luna said, “On a totally different topic, I did have another question for you. Who’s that guy over there? The patron who’s always here?”
I looked over back into the adult section of the library near the fireplace. There was a man there, a senior citizen who was wearing a suit and reading The New York Times. Fortunately, he was holding the newspaper low enough so I could see his face—most of which was covered by large spectacles that gave him an owlish appearance. “That’s Linus Truman,” I said.
Luna said, “He’s been here every day. Most of the day.”
I said, “He’s been here for years. Always perfectly dressed. If you try to talk to him, you’ll get a small smile and a polite grunt of acknowledgment. He has a pattern to his days. He starts out with the local paper and ends up with The Times. In between, he reads fiction, usually classics, then nonfiction, usually biographies. He leaves at noon on the dot for lunch and comes back exactly 45 minutes later.”
Luna stared at the oblivious Linus through narrowed eyes. “I’m kinda fascinated by him.”
“Are you?” I asked, frowning doubtfully. Then I realized I’d become immune to being fascinated by Linus because he was almost a fixture. He did the same thing each day, and he didn’t visit with the librarians. We all gave him a respectful distance because he clearly wanted to be alone . . . didn’t he?
“All I know is, if I wanted information on anything, he’d be the guy I’d go to,” said Luna in a decisive voice. “Think about it—he reads all day. We’re librarians and we can’t even read all day.”
I’d considered this before. I was very envious of Linus Truman in many ways. I’d have loved to do nothing but read in a library all day. I sneaked a peek at my book whenever I could, which was usually at breaks and lunch until I made it back home. But all day? That was a luxury not afforded to thirty-somethings.
“What’s his story?” asked Luna.
I shook my head. “Story? I think his story is that he spends all day every day in the library quietly reading.”
“Yes, but why? Does he have a family? Is he trying to get in the Guinness Book of World Records for number of books read in a year or a lifetime? What does he think about all the things he reads?” asked Luna.
I said, “Honestly, I have no idea. Linus doesn’t exactly engage in conversation with me, although he’s certainly polite. The only reason I know his name is because of his library card.”
Luna wagged her finger at me. “Ann, this is another mystery. We need to find out more about Linus.”
I snorted. “I don’t think Linus Truman had anything to do with Roger or Mary. I’m not sure I have the time to investigate anything else.” I paused. “Although I strongly suspect he was the patron who left an anonymous note saying the cats belonged to Elsie Brennon. He didn’t want to tell me they did, so he jotted down a note, instead. But I’m sure it’s him.”
I froze. Anonymous notes. Surely, he wouldn’t have had anything to do with the last one that came in. I glanced over at him again, impeccable in his suit and shook my head. He couldn’t have.
Luna said, “I’m going over to introduce myself. After all, I don’t know any better, being new, do I?”
I looked at Linus in his suit and tie and carefully polished dress shoes and then at Luna with her piercings and tattoos and questionable taste in attire. The two couldn’t possibly be more different. “Good luck with that. Like I said, he goes out of his way to keep to himself. I’ve seen him give other patrons the cold shoulder. He’s very good at freezing people out.”
“Which is exactly why I’m perfect for this assignment,” said Luna breezily. “He’ll realize I’m brand-new here in the library and that I don’t realize he’s a committed loner. Also, it’s very hard to hurt my feelings. Besides, part of my job is to introduce myself to the patrons, isn’t it?” asked Luna.
I nodded.
“I’m heading over now,” said Luna.
I couldn’t help watching. It was like seeing a train wreck happen in real time. I had to admit I was curious as to how Linus would react to this intrusion. Everyone had pretty much left him alone to his own devices at this point. I hadn’t even seen Fitz over there yet, but that was probably because he was so entertained with the kids over in the children’s section.
I saw Luna plop down in a chair across from Linus and Linus glance up in surprise, stiffening a bit. Then Luna reached out her hand and Linus reluctantly shook it. Luna leaned back in her chair and proceeded to chat in an animated fashion while Linus stared at her in amazement. That’s when a patron came up and asked me if I knew how to find information on the school districts in a state they were about to move to.
Sometime later, Luna sidled up to me again as I was pulling a few requested books for the holds shelf. She said, “He’s really just a sweetheart, you know.”
I said, “I presume you’re talking about Fitz the cat and not Linus. Linus appears to be anything but a sweetheart.”
“He’s just had a hard time, that’s all. He said when he retired, he wanted to keep up a routine.”
I said, “Well, coming to the library every day definitely qualifies for that.”
Luna said, “It didn’t start out that way. He and his wife moved here from some other town and they set up their own routine. They’d read newspapers in the morning and then do some gardening before lunch. In the afternoons it was puzzles with sandwiches. And so on. But then his wife died unexpectedly, and he’s been trying to find his way since then.”
I sighed. “That makes me feel sorry I didn’t try harder.”
Luna said, “But I’ve seen you with patrons—you have a great way with them and you’re always friendly and helpful to everyone. I’m sure you gave it a try.”
“I suppose there are only so many times I can get a one-word or no-word response to good morning,” I said. “After that, I think I’ve mostly just smiled at him when I’ve seen him. He’s sort of become a fixture at the library as much as the circulation desk or the computer room.”
“Well, you can think of him differently now. As a resource,” said Luna.
“A resource? For what?” I asked.
“For anything. That guy reads all day long.”