It hung in the air between us while Millie’s mouth formed a neat pink O. At last she said, “He was you, so you must have found out something.”
“Or someone thought he had, or feared he might. I agree.”
“Wasn’t he here in the lobby before we came out here? You said something about that.”
“Correct. He was.”
“Then somebody may have seen something.”
“I agree with that too. The question is, who was it? Who did? Assuming he or she exists.” Two ’bots had come in. One was wheeling a big trash bin, and the other had two mops and a bucket. We got up and watched from the doorway while they put Ern A. Smithe’s body into the trash bin and began to mop up his blood. Pretty soon one extended an arm to pick up what looked like a ruler-sized piece of shiny, silvery metal. For a few seconds he held it in front of his eyes before dropping it into his trash bin.
Millie whispered, “Aren’t they destroying evidence?”
“Perhaps, but I searched his pockets a moment ago, and we couldn’t stop them; they have their orders. Prentice must have seen him before she left. Possibly someone told her afterward. She will have ordered the ’bots to collect the body, burn it, and mop the floor.”
“It should be a crime. We ought to be able to call the police, have them investigate. All that.”
I smiled. “Bring the killer to justice.”
“Exactly.”
“We should be able to; but as things stand, it isn’t murder, just destruction of property. He belonged to this library, presumably. If someone else killed him, they can be forced to pay the price the library was asking for him.…” I pursed my lips.
“What is it?”
“Chandra! The little girl. That’s what he’s come for—Chandra.” I was on my feet again, although I could not remember standing.
A new voice: “Aaah, there you are, Mrs. Baumgartner.”
It was another ’bot.
“You’re being checked out, and your patron has come for you. Come along.”
Millie sighed, shrugged, and followed the ’bot out. I tagged along behind.
The patron had collected Rose already and was waiting for Millie in the lobby, taller than I had expected and quite a bit younger in appearance. He looked older than Rose but much younger than Millie.
Had I been wrong about Chandra?
When I saw they were getting into a hovercab, I went back inside and waited for a chance to quiz the librarian at the desk. “Wasn’t that Dr. Fevre?”
“Yes, it was. Have you met him?”
I shook my head. “I’ve been at their house, though. Mrs. Fevre has me checked out now.”
“Really? You’ve come back here with her permission, I hope.”
I nodded and smiled. “Of course. I’ve been looking into diets and dogs for her. I’ve never met her husband, but I saw his picture there. I don’t suppose you know what he wants with Millie Baumgartner?”
“Her culinary skills, I imagine.”
I agreed, and said I ought to be getting back to Mrs. Fevre’s.
Outside, Millie, Rose, and the doctor were already gone. I strolled down the hill and hiked up the next to the high white house with the widow’s walk. They weren’t there, either.
Chandra was eating a sandwich in the kitchen. “Would you like one of these, Mr. Smithe? Mrs. Heuse will fix you one if I ask her to.”
“Or if you tell me you want one,” Mrs. Heuse said. Her nose and eyes were red, but she had dried her tears. “We’re friends, I hope.”
I tried to smile back. “Very good friends, even if you think I ought to make my own sandwiches.”
“That won’t be necessary, sir.” She was getting bread out of the freezer. “White, sourdough, or rye? There’s probably some whole wheat around here somewhere, if you’d like that.”
I cleared my throat. “Any of the three. Your choice.”
Softly, Chandra asked what was bothering me.
“Later.” I wasn’t sure I knew myself. “When we’re alone.”
That got me a nod and a quick smile. “How about if we eat out on the patio? I can show you the garden.”
“I’d love to see it.”
Mrs. Heuse brought me my sandwich and a big mug of steaming tea, and Chandra and I carried our food down a short hall I had not seen before.
There was a toolshed and an old greenhouse that was clearly no longer in use. Other than those, half a dozen flowerbeds that in summer appeared to have held lilies or day lilies, irises and roses. Better than any of these, a small paved patio with a round tile-topped table, a big yellow umbrella, and four low-backed chairs. Chandra opened the umbrella and positioned it to block the wind while I set down my plate, napkin, and mug and made myself at home.
When she had finished and seated herself in front of her half-eaten sandwich and mug of cocoa, I said, “I told one of the librarians a lie this afternoon.”
“Really? No kidding?” She grinned at me. “I bet it was the very first time in your whole life.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t, but I think it may have been the first time here in Polly’s Cove. I told her that I had seen a picture of your father—Dr. Fevre’s your father, isn’t he?”
“As far as I know.”
“‘It’s a wise child who knows her own father.’ You know about all that, I see. I told the librarian I’d seen a picture of Dr. Fevre here in this house. That was the lie. I have not, not even one. Want to tell me why?”
“Mother hid them.” After that Chandra was quiet, waiting for another question. When I said nothing, she added, “They made her cry. Everything would be like regular, then she’d look at his picture—there used to be one in her room, it was a picture of them standing together—and a close-up of him in front of the house. She made that one talk to her sometimes, but two or three years ago she took them both down.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“Sure. In the closet in his room, up on the shelf. I haven’t looked at them for a long time now, but that’s where they used to be. Why’d you tell that librarian you’d seen his picture?”
“Because it’s one of the best ways to find out who someone you don’t know is. If you simply ask, the person you’re talking to says, ‘Why do you want to know?’ They say that half the time, anyway. Probably more. But if you say, ‘Wasn’t that Jake Gibson, the oldest Gibson boy?’ they may say, ‘No, that’s Phil Robinson.’”
Chandra stared for a moment. “I see.…”
“Besides, I had a hunch. There aren’t a lot of reclone resources in Polly’s Cove, but three of us have been loaned to the Polly’s Cove Public Library, all three of us from the Spice Grove Public Library. That was quite a coincidence, if it was a coincidence.”
She nodded slowly.
“You’ve got to put up a hefty deposit to check out a reclone. How many people here have that kind of money?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then guess. Half a dozen? More?”
“No way.” Chandra shook her head. “Two or three people, maybe, besides my mother.”
“You’re probably right. I’d certainly think there are fewer than ten. Even nine would be surprising. Your mother had requested me. She’d consulted an older, damaged copy. Eventually she had given up on him, or somehow been forced to return him. Then she’d requested a newer copy. There aren’t a lot of us.”