Death Among The Stacks:
The Body in the Law Library
By Louise Hathaway
Copyright Louise Hathaway 2014
Smashwords Edition
Chapter One
It’s another working day at the Law Library. The library’s director is the first person to arrive each morning. She starts her day at 7:00 and is usually the last to leave. The library has been having financial trouble lately. There is less money in the budget to buy new books and many subscriptions to legal publications have had to be cancelled. In previous years, there were more patrons willing to pay the $100 fee to have borrowing privileges. The library’s other source of income from court filing fees is also sharply dropping.
The library has just constructed a major new wing and there are several problems with its construction. Nothing is going as planned and the director is getting increasingly frustrated with all of the cost overruns, unexpected delays, and setbacks. Adding to all of her other worries, she’s on edge today because the library is expecting a visit by an inspector from the United States Government Printing Office. The inspector, Sean Gaylord, is coming to critique the library’s marketing of its federal and state depository items that come to the library free, courtesy of U.S. taxpayers.
The librarian, Yvonne, who oversees the depository collection, is also very nervous about the inspector’s visit. The last time he came, he criticized the way that the library had been showcasing its depository collection. She and her assistant had put together a book display of the library’s federal and state materials and the inspector had said that it was so ineffective that it “left him cold.” He explained that the purpose of the entire Government Depository System dates back to the times of our founding fathers. The public’s “right to know” what its government is doing is a tenet upon which the whole Constitution was formed. The inspector is planning to meet with Yvonne to discuss the guidelines that the library must follow to market its collection in TV and radio ads. Yvonne’s brother and younger sister died this year and she is grieving so much that she can barely function. It’s taking all of her energy just to “suit up and show up” to drive to work each morning. This was not a good day to be “under the microscope”; she just wished she could be invisible.
Yvonne’s assistant, Ms. Kathy Brown, had retired the previous year. Her assistant had done an excellent job in designing the Government Documents webpage, writing bibliographies to hand out to the library’s patrons, and contributing articles to the library’s house organ. This assistant had a keen devotion and commitment to the depository program and Yvonne had grown to depend on her. Yvonne really needs her help with writing the copy for ads that the inspector will be demanding because Ms. Brown has Master’s Degree in English and is good with the written word. Adding to all of those other assets, Ms. Brown had once worked at an advertising agency writing copy for its TV ads.
Yvonne envied her former assistant’s personal life. Ms. Brown and her husband, Randy, had been married for 35 years and they were still very much in love with each other. Ms. Brown’s husband treated her like an angel and was every woman’s dream. He was tall, handsome, smart and kind. They had a very passionate relationship with lots of ups and downs. Ms. Brown had once told Yvonne that Randy was like the character, “Mr. Big”, in the HBO mini-series, “Sex and the City”. Like Carrie in the show, Ms. Brown loved her man with all of her heart and soul, but felt insecure with him because he was a “lady’s man.” They would have arguments, hurt each other, break one another’s heart, but they always came back to each other’s “secret garden of love”. Ms. Brown told Yvonne that her master bedroom looked out onto a garden with a lily pond. It all sounded so romantic. Yvonne had been married to a psychiatrist in Chicago and she and her former husband had a very rocky relationship together. After their divorce, Yvonne left Chicago vowing to never come back.
Ms. Brown’s replacement, Nicole, had turned out to be a real disappointment to Yvonne. “Nick,” as they called her, spent large portions of her workday socializing with her coworkers and surfing the Internet for personal business. Her Internet surfing was so extreme that some of her coworkers had nicknamed her “Nic.Com”. One time Yvonne had even caught her doing a crossword puzzle on company time. Nic spent many long lunches with her work friend Kelly. Both of them were very frustrated with all of the “office politics” and they liked to get together and vent. Kelly had become increasingly frustrated with trying to deal with of all the maintenance problems due to the faulty design of the new wing to the library. She was the “Go-to-Girl” during all of the new construction. In her mind, the architect who designed the new addition seemed to haunt her everyplace she went, driving her nuts with his nasty cigar smoking. She couldn’t even go out to lunch “with the girls” at Original Pete’s without seeing him there, stinking up the place. “Men!” she’d say, “Can’t live with; and can’t live without them! They’re all the same!” Nic also has major trust issues with men. She often quotes lines from a 1980’s song which asks: “Don’t You Know That It’s Different for Girls? You’re All The Same.” Both of the women have “a bone to pick” with the entire male race.
The only man whom they really trusted was the Public Services Librarian, Hung Tran. Everyone loves him for his kind and gentle ways. He is the patrons’ favorite librarian because he always goes way out of his way to answer their questions. Because he had passed the bar exam, he is the person who knows the most about legal research. He earned the name, “St. Hung”, because he reminds everyone of Mother Teresa. He spent his youth as a monk in his native Viet Nam and knows a lot about meditation.
During the noon hour at the Library, Hung would often help the staff with meditation exercises and stress reduction techniques. He had a cd called, “The Quiet Mind”, which he sometimes played in the staff lounge. When Ms. Brown was still working at the Library, he knew that she was having a lot of neck and back soreness due to all the heavy lifting of boxes of new legal treatises and heavy microfilm trays with which she was working. He often would bring her tubes of ointment for muscle aches. He got it from Viet Nam and it smelled like peppermint. Sometimes Ms. Brown and her husband would get carried away with “Hung’s Magic Oil”— but that’s a separate story.
Today at the Law Library, Hung spends the morning at the reference desk. Meanwhile, Yvonne is growing increasingly anxious as she waits for the arrival of the Government Printing Office inspector. The minutes and hours seem to drag as she watches the clock. Finally, she decides to take a break and go out for some fast food. She tells Hung that she’ll be back shortly in case the inspector happens to show up while she’s gone. At around 1:30, Nic comes back from her lunch and decides that she is going to do some filing on the first floor. The staff nicknames this floor “the dungeon” because it’s dark and a bit spooky. Nobody ever goes down there anymore because it is filled with archival materials that are readily available on the Internet. When Nic gets out of the elevator on this floor, she notices in the distance what appear to be two black shoes sticking out at odd angles from the compact shelving. She presses a button that separates the rows of shelving and screams when she sees that a man’s body is lying on the ground, crushed between two rows of shelving. She gasps and runs towards the elevator to tell the rest of the staff what she’s just seen.
Chapter Two
Detective Mark Sledge precariously balances the two piping-hot Starbuck’s venti coffees on his knee as he reaches for the car keys in his pocket. Just then his cell phone rings, erupting with the ‘William Tell Overture’, causing Sledge to spill both coffees into his lap and drenching his service revolver.
Even though he is sitting inside his car, everyone sitting outside of Starbucks turns their heads in unison to see the hapless detective screaming and flailing about inside his car at some unseen menace. “Damn it,” he screams as his legs and other unmentionable areas burn with an intensity he hasn’t felt since spilling bacon grease on his chest as a young boy.
With the coffees empty, he reluctantly drives through the drive-up and sheepishly orders two more. He had promised his wife a coffee that afternoon and wasn’t going to let her down. She is the love of his life and any time spent with her or for her is his only real happiness and satisfaction in life. They have been married 20 years last month and they are the happiest when they are together. He wonders aloud, “Why the heck did I become a cop? I should’a been a 9-5 kinda guy.”
As he sits in the drive-thru line, he calls the dispatcher back to find out what the call was all about. “This better be good!” he mutters. He had just gotten one of those new “smart” phones that the department was issuing to all its employees. It could do everything: surf the web, send email, play music, you name it. Detective Sledge is not a technology guy; he has only just gotten the hang of a regular cell phone, now he has to learn this new gizmo. Geez. The department IT guys had programmed it with special ring tones to help him identify who was calling by the tone. They asked him if he had a favorite song or melody that they could assign to any incoming call from dispatch. “Yeah, I like the William Tell Overture, you know, all that cavalry-coming-to-the-rescue-stuff.” The IT guys suppressed a giggle and set him up with his favorite song for dispatch, purposely turning up the volume to the highest level as a practical joke. I’m going to get them bastards!” he thinks.
“Hi Lucy, this is Sledge. I just got a call. What’s up?” Sledge shifts and mushes in his seat as he pulls up to the coffee window.
Lucy responds, “Seems there’s been a murder, Detective Sledge. Some federal mucky-muck over at the Library of Law in downtown.”
Sledge thinks, ‘A murder? In the Library of Law?’ “Don’t you mean the Law Library, Lucy?”
She indignantly shoots back, “Aw, whatever. Some library over there in downtown, I’m not exactly sure. Someone called right after lunch and was screaming that someone was killed and we needed to get over there right away.”
Wow, Sledge thinks, a murder; this could be my big chance. “You sure this isn’t another gang shooting, Lucy?” he asks.
“No,” Lucy replies. “The lieutenant called and said this was important and that you needed to get over there right away.”
“Okay; thanks Lucy. Tell the lieutenant I’m heading over now.” Sledge hangs up the phone and wonders, “Why would the lieutenant get involved in this? This must be important.”
“Hey, didn’t you just get coffee, officer?” the Starbucks barista snaps at Sledge.
“Yes, well, I, er, ah—I spilled it on the way out. Could I get some half-and-half in those too, please?” Sledge begs.
“Wow, I guess you did, didn’t you!” the barista says, eyeing his pants. Sledge’s face is now as red as his crotch as he reaches back into the pool of coffee for his wallet. He fishes out a few almost dry bills and pays for the coffees.
“Do you want a carrier for these, hon?”
“Yeah, I suppose so. Don’t want to spill it now,” Sledge answers snarkily. He takes the coffees, gingerly places them on the floor of the squad car, and heads home to his wife and some dry pants. “Boy; she’s gonna laugh at me for this,” he thinks. Even so, with all his pain and embarrassment, he can’t suppress a grin, thinking about her and what she will say, as he heads home to the love of his life.
*******
Detective Sledge pulls into the Law Library Parking lot with a fresh pair of clean, dry pants. Only two blocks from the police department, Sledge knows this area well. He takes a ticket from the parking meter and pulls into a space near the entrance to the Library.
The Law Library is situated in the County Civic Center. Everything legal and judicial that happens in this county happens here. Sledge has never been to the Law Library before. No reason to, really. He feels like a fish out of water actually. Mark graduated from the police academy 20 years ago and immediately went out in a patrol car policing the baddest areas of the city. He saw more violence there than he saw in the military all those years ago. Now, at age 42, he has become a detective, finally passing the promotion test. Mark worked hard and strove to become the best he could be. All that Marine Corps training had made its mark on him. He hoped his father would be proud of him. His father was a gunnery officer in the Marine Corps who lost his life fighting in Vietnam when Mark was barely 2 years old. His mother wouldn’t talk about his dad; she would only tear up when he mentioned him and say that we shouldn’t hold on to those memories; they don’t do any of us any good.
Detective Sledge walks up the stairs to the Law Library where he is met by Sergeant Ronnie Willis, his partner at the department. The front and back doors are wrapped in yellow police tape and there are several uniformed officers stationed at every entrance.
“So tell me what’s going on,” Sledge asks Officer Willis.
“Seems like there’s been a murder—or perhaps a gruesome accident. Some Federal employee was found crushed between two rows of compact shelves here in the basement. These ain’t your ordinary shelves either. They are pretty heavy and motor driven. Anything that gets stuck in them ain’t got a chance,” Willis says.
“This place has a basement?” Sledge asks.
“No, well, not actually a basement, basement, but they call it a basement; ah, it’s the bottom floor,” Willis explains.
“OK. I guess,” Sledge answers.
He walks in to find a group of library employees huddled behind the reference desk whispering to each other. Beyond the reference desk he could see a group of people in a glass-walled room, looking out curiously at what is going on. “Who are they?” Sledge asks Willis.
“Patrons of the library that got stuck here after we arrived. We thought you’d like to question them.”
“Get their names, addresses and phone numbers and tell them we may want to talk to them later. Use your initiative, Willis. After you get the patrons sorted out, I want every member of the Law Library staff in that conference room for questioning. We’ll talk to them one at a time in the Director’s office here. Don’t let anyone go; tell the officers at all the doors. No one leaves. Got it? Get moving!” Sledge barks.
“Yes sir!” Officer Willis begins herding the patrons off to get information while Detective Sledge moves towards basement stairs.
Detective Sledge makes his way down to the basement where he finds a group of officers huddled around the body of the victim. Dr. Phil Gore, the department pathologist, is bent over the body of the deceased. “Phil, what’s up? What do you have for me here?”
“The victim is a 56 year old, white, Caucasian male who got stuck between some pretty heavy compact shelves.” Dr. Gore says. “How the heck would someone get stuck in these shelves? I gotta think he’d make some sort of noise as these things closed in on him.”
Sledge says, “Maybe he couldn’t.”
Dr. Gore adds, “He’s got a nasty bruise on his forehead that seems to match the pattern on the side of this book tape dispenser we found over there. This thing is really heavy and probably knocked him out cold before he got stuck in here. I imagine he was out before the shelves began to close in on him. He died of asphyxiation as far as I can tell. The lab reports will tell us more but I’m pretty sure that’s what got him,” Dr. Gore says.
“So when did he die? Today or when?” asks Sledge.
“I’d say two maybe three hours ago. Rigor mortis has barely set in. Also, I found this odd smell on the body, like peppermint. I’m not sure what it is. Maybe some cheap cologne or something. We’ll check it out at the lab and have an answer for you in a day or so.”
Detective Sledge takes the stairs up to the main level and enters the Director’s office. A vast, roomy office, i
t is well-lit by two enormous windows. The room reminds him of an executive’s office in a large corporation somewhere. This room seems a bit much—perhaps over the top for a county worker, Sledge thinks.
Sledge sits down at a small conference table and begins to collect his thoughts. Just then, the door opens and an officer says, “I’ve got the Director for you, sir.”
To which Sledge replies, “Thanks, send her in.” The Director walks in and appears a bit taken aback that someone is in her office. She catches her composure and sits down next to Sledge. The director is a small, slight figure of a woman. The stress of her job has made her look much older than her 45 years. She is dressed in a simple, smart looking professional suit, a drab brown color. She has a small American flag broach pinned uncomfortably to her lapel.
The director is very nervous about being questioned, feeling that her entire reputation as an administrator is at stake. She thinks that she must remember every word of the interview so that she can report them back to her supervisors, the Board of Trustees. What if she says the wrong thing? She squirms in her seat as Sledge began to question her.
“Thank you for your patience and cooperation with us. I know you understand the importance of what we need to do and that it may take some time and hopefully not inconvenience you or your staff.” Sledge says.
“Yes, I mean I understand,” the Director answers, her lip slightly quivering.
“Can you tell me about your day and what you remember about what happened prior to 1:30?” asks Sledge.
“Certainly,” the Director answers, trying hard to sound confident and composed. “I arrived at work at a little after 7:00 and opened up the library. I’m usually the first to arrive and I had to unlock the doors and reset the security system. The security system settings are in the basement so I have to go down there and enter the security code.
“Did you notice anything odd or unusual in the basement this morning when you turned off the alarm?”
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