Let's Play Dead

“She needs the job. She told me that it sounded so perfect when she saw the ad. I guess Hadley can turn on the charm when she wants to, long enough to hire someone, but it didn’t last.”

“Did Chloe say how long she’s been working for her?”

“Six months, maybe? But I’d bet it won’t be for much longer. Chloe’s already taking antianxiety medication, and she says she’d rather do anything else than work for that woman any longer. Chloe was an English major, which is why she thought working for an author would be so cool.”

I felt an immediate pang of sympathy. As a former English major myself, I knew how bleak the prospects were outside of academia. “Let me talk to Melanie. Maybe we have an opening here where she’d fit. You know, you learned quite a bit about Chloe in a short time.”

“She looked like she needed a friend. I know what that feels like,” Eric said simply.

“Good job, Eric.”

CHAPTER 14

The next morning I woke up thinking about electricity again. I needed more information, and I didn’t think the kind of questions I had could be resolved by reading a short publication or even by a quick Internet search. I had reviewed the basic concept of electricity, but I couldn’t even say whether ordinary current-as opposed to high-voltage wiring-was enough to kill someone. The big question was: how do you electrocute someone?

I was troubled. When I had mentioned to James that the victim at Let’s Play could just as easily have been me, I hadn’t been joking. In fact, I’d already found out that I didn’t know enough to guess whether the flaw in Willy’s wiring had been set to shock indiscriminately-that is, whoever was first to touch it would be zapped-or targeted to a specific person. And the timing was odd. If someone had wanted to do harm to a random patron, wouldn’t they have waited until the exhibit was open? Maybe the culprit hadn’t wanted to risk harming a child? I shuddered at the very thought of a child getting hurt.

My next question was, who could have rigged this up? Not me, and I figured I represented an average person. An electrician could have, sure. But was there someone who fell between ignorant me and a trained professional, who would know how to manage it? And how would that person have gained access to the wiring for the Harriet exhibit? That might have been the easiest part: as I had told James, plenty of construction people had been wandering in and out of Let’s Play lately, and it was unlikely that anyone would challenge their right to be there-which suggested slack security or a charming naivete among the staff of the museum.

But that was outside my purview. However, I was the president of an institution that occupied an aging building, and who knew how many electrical problems were just waiting to happen to us as well? I recalled that we’d had the building assessed a few years earlier, in contemplation of a renovation project that had withered for lack of serious funding. I could dig out those records and see what the results had been. Luckily, as the new kid, I was entitled to take a fresh look at our problems in that area-as long as it didn’t cost the Society anything. I could probably locate the person who had done the original evaluation and have him walk me through the reports, if I asked nicely. I could inquire about what wiring changes we might need for modern surveillance systems and computer connections, as we hoped to improve our security. We might be able to afford those things someday, and I would look responsible if I investigated them now, rather than waiting. And I could ask all sorts of dumb questions about wiring along the way. It was a plan.

My enthusiasm carried me through breakfast and the train ride to the city, and into work. Once again Eric was at his desk waiting for me, looking like an eager puppy.

“Mornin’, Nell. Great day, isn’t it?”

“I hope so. Hey, I’ve got a challenge for you.” I could have sworn his ears pricked up, and if he’d had a tail he would have wagged it. “A couple of years ago, or less than five, anyway, the Society commissioned a structural evaluation of this building, to see what we needed to fix and how much that would cost, and to put together a wish list of smaller construction projects that we could undertake if we ever found the money. We called it something like The Ten Year Plan. Do you think you could track that down for me?”

“I’d be happy to. Uh, where do you think I should start?”

“Why don’t you and Shelby work together to find it? I’m pretty sure that I remember reviewing some portions, looking for text that I could lift for grant proposals, so there’s probably a copy somewhere in the development office.”

“I’ll get right on it. Oh, did you want coffee first?”

“I’ll get my own. Do you want some?”

He dimpled. “Why, thank you, ma’am. I’d truly appreciate that.”

I hung up my coat and set off for the coffee room, where I found it unusually tidy-I suspected Eric. I really didn’t expect this initial enthusiasm to persist, but it was lovely while it lasted. I made a pot of coffee and watched it percolate, my mind wandering.

Felicity Soames, our long-term head librarian and queen of the reading room, came in just as the coffeemaker finished gurgling and dribbling. “Good morning, Nell. How’s the new boy working out?”

“He does seem like a boy, doesn’t he? He’s survived living alone in Philadelphia, and it barely seems to have touched him. But to answer your question, fine, so far. And he makes good coffee.”

“I thought I detected someone else’s hand in yesterday’s brew. That’ll get him my vote any day.” She lowered her voice. “Awful thing about Let’s Play, isn’t it? They really don’t need this kind of trouble.”

“I agree.” After a moment, I decided I might as well launch my inquiry into our own electrical state now. “I’ve decided to check our own electrical specs-anytime you’ve got an old building like this, there are bound to be patches and quick fixes, and I’m pretty sure we’re pushing our load limits, or whatever you call them. Perish the thought that we should ever try to add more lines.”

“Or a security system?” Felicity added wryly. “Good idea, and it will make us look good, being proactive. But if whoever looks finds something that’s not up to code, we might find ourselves having to do some tap dancing to fix things up. It’ll cost money.”

She was right, and she would know-she’d been here longer than anyone else in the building, as far as I knew. “Doesn’t everything? But some things we can’t afford to put off. We’ve got a building full of paper and other flammable objects here, and an electrical fire would be devastating.”

We were both silent for a moment, contemplating the unthinkable horror of such a thing. Then Felicity shook herself and stepped forward to pour a cup of coffee. “I’d better enjoy this while I can-it wouldn’t do to set a bad example for our patrons. No food or drink in the reading room!”

“I hear you.” I filled two mugs and carried them back to my office. Eric wasn’t at his desk, and I wondered if he had gone off hunting for documents already. I’d leave him to it and see how he did.

He was back before his coffee cooled, clutching a thick folder. “You were right-there was a file in development.” He deposited it on my desk with a flourish. “But like you said, what’s in there is mostly descriptive. I’ll go through the files out here and see if there’s any more detail. Or would the business manager have them, do you know?”

“You’re amazing. But drink your coffee first. And he might-you can ask him.”

“I’m on it!”

I sat back with my coffee and contemplated the weighty, battered folder in front of me. It dated from two presidents back-an individual with grand schemes and little fundraising prowess. I was glad the document existed, but saddened by the sheer volume of things that we should be doing, that we couldn’t possibly do. At least, not now. Maybe in a few years. I opened the folder and riffled through the pages until I came to something that looked vaguely like a wiring study-one that was less than complimentary about the status quo, which hadn’t changed since the document was written. Again, I had to wonder if we would trigger any official attention-like citations for egregious code violations-if I asked someone to look at the wiring again. All I really wanted, right now, was someone to explain to me what I was looking at in the report, and whom I could pump discreetly for information along the way. But I had no electrical connections-I smiled at my own pun-in the city and only a vague knowledge of how the city’s licensing and oversight agencies operated. I needed a consultant.