Mary Anne and the Library Mystery

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Mary Anne and the Library Mystery Page 4

by Ann M. Martin


  “We sure are. Is Mrs. Kishi worried?”

  Kristy nodded. “That part about the lighter fluid scared her. She thinks somebody’s getting serious about these fires.”

  “I just can’t believe it,” I said. “Who on earth would want to burn down a library?”

  “I don’t know, but I think we need to find out.”

  We had a mystery on our hands, and it was time to start solving it — before the town of Stoneybrook lost its library.

  Kristy was right when she’d written in the club notebook that the fire in the library was the first thing we talked about at our meeting. In fact, it was the only thing. Usually Kristy likes to focus on club business, at least at the beginning of each meeting, but on Wednesday she seemed to forget that rule.

  She and I arrived at Claudia’s just before five-thirty. We were both out of breath, and we were still a little freaked out by what had happened at the library. Kristy took a few minutes to scribble some notes about her job with Rosie, and by the time she was done the other club members had arrived. Then Kristy called the meeting to order, but we skipped over the club business and started talking about the fire.

  Kristy was sitting in the director’s chair, of course. Shannon sat next to Claudia and me on the bed, and Stacey sat on the floor, leaning against Claud’s bureau. Jessi sat on the floor, too, but she wasn’t leaning. As usual, she was using the time to keep her legs limber with a series of painful-looking ballet stretches.

  Claudia passed around some Reese’s peanut butter cups — and handed Stacey a box of pretzels — while Kristy and I told our friends the news. I know we sounded upset.

  “I don’t feel responsible,” I said, thinking out loud. “But I do feel involved. I mean, there have been two fires since I started working at the library.”

  “I feel involved, too,” said Kristy. “I was there for both fires, and I can’t think of any clues or remember anybody acting suspicious, or anything. It seems like we should have more to go on than we do.”

  “I just can’t believe someone would want to burn down the library,” said Jessi. She was bent over, with her face nearly touching the floor between her outspread legs, so her voice was a little muffled. I could tell she was upset, too, though.

  “Me, neither,” said Shannon. “What a crazy thing to do.”

  “That’s what worries me,” said Claudia. “Whoever is setting the fires must be kind of a nut or something. Plus, I’m worried about my mom. After all, she’s in that building all day, every day. A library seems like such a safe place. I’ve never even thought about her being in danger before. But now I think about it all the time.”

  I patted Claudia on the back. “She’ll be okay,” I said. “She knows how to deal with emergencies. You should have seen how calm she was today.”

  “What about the kids, though?” asked Stacey. “I mean, you can’t expect that kids will always stay calm during emergencies. It sounds like they did well the first couple of times, but who knows what might happen if that alarm rings again?”

  So there we sat, a whole room full of worry-warts. “Well, I guess the question is,” said Kristy, “what are we going to do about it?”

  Everyone was silent for a minute. “What can we do?” asked Shannon, finally.

  “We have to catch the firebug,” I said firmly. The words popped out of my mouth, surprising me as much as everyone else. But as soon as I said them, I knew they were true. I wasn’t going to rest easy until the person setting the fires had been caught. And why couldn’t we be the ones to catch him (or her)?

  “You’re right,” said Kristy.

  “I still can’t imagine who would want to burn down the library,” said Jessi. Now she was in this really weird position, kind of standing on her shoulders, with her legs back over her head. Her voice sounded like Donald Duck’s.

  “What are you doing, Jessi?” asked Stacey. “That looks incredibly uncomfortable.”

  “It’s a yoga position,” said Jessi, as she brought her legs back down to earth and sat up. “It’s called the Plow. It’s great for your circulation. Anyway, I think the thing to do is to try to imagine who might want to burn down the library.”

  Once again, silence filled the room. Then the phone rang, startling us a little. Kristy answered it, a bit distractedly. The caller was Mrs. Pike, looking for a sitter who could go to the library with Nicky occasionally, since he needed a little extra Readathon help. Jessi volunteered. “Picking him up will give me a chance to spend some time with Mal,” she said.

  “Hey!” shouted Claudia, all of a sudden.

  I nearly fell off the bed. “What?” I asked, as soon as I had recovered. “What is it, Claud?”

  “I just remembered something my mom once told me. You guys are not going to believe this.” She looked at each of us in turn, her eyes gleaming.

  “What? What?” asked Kristy. “Just tell us, already!”

  “Okay,” Claudia began, in a hushed voice. “See, the library is built on land that used to belong to a really rich family. It was a huge estate, but over time the family lost money and had to sell off some of the land. At the same time, they donated this one piece of land to the town of Stoneybrook, with the understanding that the town would build a library on it.”

  “Claudia,” said Kristy, with a warning tone in her voice. “Is there a point to this story?”

  “Absolutely,” said Claudia, holding up a hand. “Just give me a second here. See, the family donated the land, but there were strings attached. They donated it under one condition: that if the library that was built on the property was ever torn down or destroyed, the land would go back to the family.”

  “We’re still waiting,” said Kristy, in a singsong voice. “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m getting at this,” replied Claudia, leaning forward. “The family who donated the land? Their name was Ellway.”

  I gasped. “You mean —”

  Claudia nodded. “Miss Ellway, who’s working in the children’s room. It was her grandfather who gave — or was it lent? — the land to Stoneybrook.”

  “But if she’s so rich,” I said, “why is she working as an aide in the children’s room?”

  “She isn’t so rich. The Ellways have been losing money, remember? She’s facing hard times, so she had to take a job.”

  “This is incredible!” said Kristy. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Claud?”

  “I’m saying that maybe Miss Ellway needs money really badly. Badly enough to consider burning down the library and reclaiming her family’s land.”

  “Whoa!” I said. “That’s a pretty serious accusation.”

  Claudia nodded. “I know. But think about it. Does Miss Ellway really seem to enjoy working with children? Or do you think she might just have taken that job so she could do her dirty work without being suspected?”

  Claudia was excited about her theory. I wasn’t so sure. I wasn’t crazy about Miss Ellway, but to accuse her of trying to burn down the library seemed a little farfetched. “I don’t know,” I said. “I agree we should keep an eye on her, but there are other things we need to think about, too.”

  “Such as?” asked Kristy, raising an eyebrow. I think she was a little surprised to see me speaking up so much.

  “Well, such as the fires themselves. I think the more we know about them, the better. Like, what kind of fire was that first one? What was burning in the sink?”

  “Probably just paper towels or toilet paper or something,” said Stacey, “since it was in the bathroom.”

  “But do we know for sure?” I didn’t know why I was pressing the point, but it seemed important.

  “I can call my mom and ask,” said Claudia. “I mean, I still think it was Miss Ellway, but you’re probably right that the more we know, the better.” She reached for the phone and called her mother at the library. “Mrs. Kishi, please,” she said, and then waited until her mom picked up the phone. “Hi, Mom,” she said. “We’re having a club meeting, an
d we were talking about the fires, and we were just wondering — what was burning, anyway? Was it, like, paper towels or something?” She listened for a second, and her jaw dropped. “Wow, really?” she said. “That’s kind of creepy.”

  “What? What?” we all asked. Claudia motioned for us to be quiet. “Why did we want to know?” she asked. “Oh, no reason. Just curious, I guess. Anyway, thanks! I’ll let you get back to work. ‘Bye.” Claudia put down the phone. “I don’t want her worrying that we’re doing anything dangerous,” she explained. “Listen to this! Guess what was burning?”

  “Claudia!” said Kristy, with that warning tone in her voice again. “We don’t want to guess. We’re waiting for you to tell us.”

  “Okay, okay,” said Claud. “Get this — it was a book! A paperback book.”

  Once again, there was total silence in the room. Well, maybe not total silence. I heard a few gasps.

  “Okay,” said Kristy, who was the first to recover. “This is getting really serious. That is just too weird to ignore — burning a book in a bathroom sink in the library. Now we really have to solve this mystery.” She whipped the pencil out from behind her ear and began to make a list on a piece of scrap paper from Claudia’s desk. “Number one,” she said, as she wrote, “keep an eye on Miss Ellway.”

  “Definitely,” Claudia agreed. “And I’ll see if I can find out anything more about the deal with the land. Maybe there’s something I forgot.”

  “Number two. Keep an eye on everybody else, too. Look for suspicious behavior, and keep a list of possible suspects,” I suggested.

  “Good,” said Kristy.

  “Number three,” said Jessi. “Find out about the second fire, too. Claudia didn’t ask what was burning today.”

  “Check,” said Kristy, writing it down.

  “Number four,” said Shannon. “Try to prevent future fires.”

  “Oh, good one!” I exclaimed.

  “And number five,” said Stacey. “Solve this mystery before the library and all the books in it get burned to a crisp.”

  “All right!” said Kristy, scribbling away and then holding up the list. “We’re ready for action. Watch out, Mr. — or Madame — Firebug. The BSC is on your case!”

  By the end of our meeting that Wednesday, we had agreed on a plan of action. The next afternoon, right after school, Kristy, Claudia, and I headed for the library together, hoping to turn up some clues. Jessi had a dance class, and Stacey and Shannon were baby-sitting, but the three of us had decided to get started.

  Since Wednesday wasn’t my regular day at the library, Ms. Feld looked surprised when I came in. “Mary Anne!” she said, smiling up at me. She was, as usual, doing three things at once: signing out a pile of books for a little girl, calculating overdue fines for a father who had returned books late, and helping a little boy fill out a library card. “I guess you just can’t stay away, can you?” she said, not skipping a beat in her work.

  “Um,” I began, trying frantically to think of something to say to Ms. Feld — something that wouldn’t include the words scene of the crime, which Claudia had just whispered as we made our way down the stairs. She likes to use Nancy Drew terminology whenever she can.

  “We’re just passing through,” said Kristy, giving me a little push. “See you!” She smiled and waved, and so did I. “No sense in getting caught up in conversation,” Kristy whispered to me as we hurried through the door and into the hallway where the bathrooms are.

  Claudia tried the door on the women’s room. “Darn, it’s locked,” she said. “I forgot. My mom said they decided to start locking the bathrooms after the fire. They keep the keys at the main desk upstairs. You have to ask for one if you want to use the bathroom.”

  “Doesn’t Ms. Feld have one, too?” I asked.

  “She must,” said Claudia. “Let’s ask her. And I’ll try to get the staff bathroom key, too. After all, we don’t even know which bathroom the fire was in. I never thought of asking.”

  We trooped back into the children’s room. “Excuse me, but do you have the bathroom key?” Kristy asked Miss Ellway, who had taken over for Ms. Feld at the checkout desk. Miss Ellway gave a little sigh and bent to rustle through a drawer.

  “Here it is,” she said. “Now, don’t go locking it in the bathroom, or you’ll have to go upstairs to get the other one for me. I don’t have time to be chasing around for keys.”

  Kristy thanked Miss Ellway politely, but when she turned around to face me, she squinched up her eyes and wrinkled her nose, and I bit my tongue trying to keep from laughing. Why did Miss Ellway have to be such a sourpuss?

  Claudia, meanwhile, had gone to Ms. Feld’s office area to ask her for the staff bathroom key. “Well, Claudia,” I heard Ms. Feld say, “officially that bathroom is for staff use only, but I guess since it’s an emergency, staff daughters are okay, too.” She grinned at Claudia, who was blushing a little, and handed her the key.

  “What did you say to her?” I whispered, as we returned to the hall.

  Claudia giggled. “I just said I didn’t think I’d make it if I had to wait for both of you to use the bathroom before I had a turn,” she said.

  “Claudia!” I was so embarrassed. I wouldn’t say a thing like that if you paid me a million dollars.

  “Unfortunately, I couldn’t think of any reason to ask for the boys’ room key,” Claudia went on. “We’ll just have to inspect the other two now, and maybe Logan can stop by and check the men’s room tomorrow.”

  “I’ll ask him,” I said.

  Kristy was opening the door to the women’s room and now the three of us stepped inside. The bathroom was clean and neat, and the sink showed no signs of a fire. We looked around for a second, but there was really nothing to see, so we left, making sure the door was locked behind us, and Claudia unlocked the staff bathroom.

  We checked out the sink, and the stalls, too — just for good measure.

  “Looks fine,” Claudia said. “I don’t think there was any fire in here, either.”

  After we checked the bathrooms, we decided to look at the other “scene of the crime,” by the back door. But the trash can had apparently been moved already, so there wasn’t much to see.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “We better take the keys back, first of all,” said Claudia. “Then we can go upstairs and talk to my mom. Maybe she can tell us a little more about the fires.”

  We returned the keys, with thanks to Miss Ellway and Ms. Feld. “See you tomorrow,” I said to Ms. Feld. Then we headed upstairs.

  Mrs. Kishi was at her desk, working with a calculator. “Hi, Mom,” said Claudia.

  “Just a second,” replied Mrs. Kishi, holding up one hand. She punched in a few more numbers, wrote something down, and leaned back in her chair. “I hate making budgets,” she said, smiling. “How are you girls?”

  “Fine,” said Claudia. “We’re just looking around. We were trying to find out more about those fires, as a matter of fact.”

  “Oh, the fires,” said Mrs. Kishi, frowning. “I just hope there aren’t any more.”

  “Me, too,” I said. “By the way, do you know what book was burned in that first fire?” I was curious.

  Mrs. Kishi shrugged. “That’s a good question. I assume it was a library book, so I will have to replace it, but the fire department didn’t say.”

  We talked to Mrs. Kishi for a few minutes more, but we didn’t find out much. Then the three of us headed back to Claudia’s house, feeling discouraged. “We need some clues,” said Kristy, plopping down in the director’s chair.

  “I have an idea,” I said. It had come to me as we walked to Claudia’s. I picked up the phone. I don’t know what gave me the courage to do what I did next, but somehow I managed. I dialed the fire department and sat back, waiting for someone to pick up.

  “What are you doing?” asked Claudia.

  “Shh!” I said. “Hello?” I put on my most adult voice. “I’m calling for Mrs. Kishi, at the Stoneybrook Public Li
brary…. About the fires.” The person who had answered the phone put me on hold, and as I waited I could feel my heart beating hard. “Hello,” I said, when a man identifying himself as Lieutenant Joffrey picked up the phone. “I’m calling for Mrs. Kishi. She wondered if it might be possible to find out the name of the book that was burned in the bathroom. If it was a library book I need to know the title, so we can replace it.” I heard Lieutenant Joffrey ask someone else a quick question, and then he got back on the line.

  “It was Beanie, or something like that. The author was Judy Blume,” he said. “And it was definitely from your library. Only the front was burned, and there was one of those little pockets in the back.”

  “Deenie!” I said, forgetting to sound adult. I knew that book, and I liked it.

  “There was a library book in the trash can, too,” said Lieutenant Joffrey, before I could figure out what I was going to say next. “You know, the second fire. You’ll probably want to replace that one, too, won’t you?”

  “Oh — right!” I said. I was so surprised to hear that another book had been burned that I almost forgot the story I had made up about why I was calling. “And what was the title of that one?”

  He paused for a second, as if he were checking his notes. “A Light in the Attic,” he replied. “Funny title. Anyway, it’s by somebody named Silverstein. Shel Silverstein.”

  “Wow,” I said. Somebody was picking some good books to burn. I like the poems in A Light in the Attic. Then I realized I wasn’t sounding very official, so I said, “Thank you very much, sir. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, sounding bewildered. I think I had changed my voice on him about five times.

  I hung up the phone and turned to Claudia and Kristy. “You guys are not going to believe this,” I began. “A book was burned in the other fire, too.”

  “We figured that out,” said Kristy impatiently. “What books did they burn?”

 

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