no. No, dear. I just—I just think I'll go back to the library and do a little work there.'
'Let me go with you,' said Mary.
But Miss Herpitude was adamant. She plucked at Mary's sleeve and whispered in her hear. 'Never mind. You young people run along. I'm going to write it all down, and then I'll give it to you in the morning. That's much the best way.'
But after Philip had driven Mary home and stood in the starlight with her at her front door and gallantly refrained from attempting to kiss her good night (was she disappointed?) and after he had driven off again, Mary walked into the house and announced to Grandmaw that she was going back to the library to see what was troubling Alice. 'I'll come, too,' said Grandmaw.
'All right, fine,' said Mary. 'That's fine.'
They found Alice at Mary's desk in Mary's office. She started up violently when she heard Mary's key in the door and stared at them with a whitewashed face. Then she put her hand on her heart. Grandmaw Hand took her in her arms and patted her back. 'Whatever is the matter, Alice?'
'Oh, Florence, I'm so afraid. What
Mary turned on the desk lamp in the main hall, and looked around. The rest of the great room was shadowy, with the dark doorways of the other rooms opening off it, and the deep channel of the stack wing a hollow black tunnel. Emerson's high seated figure was a white mass in the darkness, and down from the dim balcony looked the marble effigies of Concord's nineteenth century worthies. Were their eyes still open? Did they never sleep?
Grandmaw began to walk Miss Herpitude up and down. Then Miss Herpitude blew her nose and drew herself up. 'Now, now,' she said. 'I won't be foolish any more. I'm going to tell you the whole story, right from the beginning, and I'll go right on to the end.' She waved her arms with the enthusiastic little gesture both of them knew so well and started to walk briskly up and down in the little alcove of locked glass cases dedicated to Henry Thoreau. Then she stopped, and cleared her throat. 'You see, I knew it wasn't true, what she claimed. So I couldn't let...'
Her sentence was never finished. Down from the balcony above her plummeted interrupting death—a white object, toppling forward and downward, turning over in its descent and striking Alice Herpitude on the back of the head. She fell instantly, her slight figure folded over, slipping and dropping to the floor. The white object fell beside her with a smash, shivering asunder. Mary gave a cry and threw out her hand. She dropped to her knees, looking from the broken, bleeding skull of her beloved old friend to the calamitous scattered shards that were all that was left of the plaster bust of Louisa May Alcott. Then Mary broke into racking sobs, and put her hand over her mouth. Across the huge plaster bun that had formed the back of Louisa's head, smearing the twisted, massy knot of plaster hair, was the blood of the woman she had struck down.
Grandmaw was the one who held together. She ran to the light switch and turned it on. The hall filled with light from the old-fashioned globe lamps and then from the new fluorescent fixtures under the balcony. Then Grandmaw started for the stairs. Mary jerked to her feet. 'No, no,' she said. 'Don't go up there.' She ran after her and grasped at her dress, sobbing. 'No, no, please, no.' But Grandmaw pulled Mary's hand away, and scrambled up the stairs, Mary stumbling after her. At the top Mary used all her tall strength to set Grandmaw aside. Then she stood shaking in front of her, staring down into the black cavern of the stacks. The little signs that announced the catalogue numbers marched into darkness along the rows of shelves.
'He must have ducked downstairs and gotten out down below,' said Grandmaw. She hurried down the stairs again and picked up the telephone on the main desk to call the police. Mary followed her slowly, humping her shoulders, holding the sides of her face in her hands. Oh, Alice, Alice. Charley, was it you?
*48*
Homer Kelly came in like thunder, his face extraordinary. He saw Mary leaning, pale and drawn, against the desk and stopped short. Then he turned to the wall and struck it a great blow with his clenched fist. 'My God, all the desk man said was 'one of the librarians...' '
Then he recovered himself and walked unsteadily over to the Thoreau alcove where Jimmy Flower had already started to work. Jimmy looked at him and shook his head, a sign of pain. There was a bright flash from the photographer's equipment. Homer knelt down and looked at Alice Herpitude. Then he got up and went to Mary and took her roughly by the arm, looking savage. 'Where were you?' he said. 'Were you anywhere near her?'
Mary laughed lightly. 'Oh, I was up on the balcony, pushing over p-pieces of sculpture.'
Homer glared at her. Then he saw that one of her eyes looked queer, with the water in it. He turned abruptly away, and started questioning Grandmaw Hand. Grandmaw was holding up heroically, being factual and terse. She was a remarkable woman.
Dr. Allen came in with his bag and bent over Miss Herpitude's body. Mary turned away. The investigation didn't interest her any more. She heard Homer tearing into Harold Vine.
'You lost him? When? How? Why in hell...?'
'Gee, I'm sorry.'
'Gee, you're sorry,' sneered Homer. 'Oh, damn it, it's my own fault. There we were, assuming Charley was too much of a gentleman to do anything nasty or unsporting like run away and kill somebody. Oh, my God, why didn't I go on ahead and put him in the lockup this afternoon, in spite of the D.A.?' He beat the side of his head with his fist. 'Well, okay, Harold, so what happened?'
'Oldest trick in the book. Charley headed up toward Main Street, just ambling along, then he wandered down the Milldam until he got to Monument Square by the Civil War Memorial (you know, where it says 'Faithful unto Death'), and then he just sat down for a while, leaning against it and looking up at the sky, like looking for airplanes, only there weren't any. I felt awful stupid, walking along about half a block behind him, pretending to be minding my own business. I had to walk past him and go around the corner there by the Middlesex Fire Insurance Company. Well, after a while he got up and went toward the Colonial Inn, where you folks were. I saw you in there, having a beer. He went in, and I went in, and then he went toward the Men's Room. So, stupid jerk that I am, I waited for him to come out. And of course he went out the window. I guess I'm not much good at tailing. He must have known I was there.'
Homer turned to Jimmy Flower. 'How did he get in here and out again?'
'The coalbin window. All the others were locked from the inside. There wasn't even hardly any coal in it, so he may have got away without any coal dust on him anywhere. I've got the state police out on the road, looking for his car.'
But then the phone rang. It was Morey Silverson, at the Goss house. He had found Charley right at home, all tucked up in bed.
'Well, thank God for that,' said Jimmy. 'What did he say he was doing after he got rid of Harold Vine?'
'Oh, some story about just wanting to walk around for the last time under the stars as a free man,' said Morey. 'No, he didn't think anybody saw him. He says he cut down to the river behind the Department of Public Works, then worked his way back up to the Milldam, got his car and went home to bed.'
'Well, he's in for it now,' said Jimmy lugubriously. 'And so are we. If it hadn't been for the dumb D.A ... Now, we're all going to be drawn and quartered.'
*49*
