The Body in the Library

Saturday 24th April 1976

 

The Body in the Library

I always was a fan of Sherlock Holmes. Tales of his case-solving are legendary made even more compelling by the presence of the erstwhile Doctor Watson. There are times I can picture myself wearing a deer-stalker, smoking a pipe and fiddling whilst I ruminate at 221b Baker Street. Of course, the headwear was an invention from the movies rather than a creation of Conan Doyle but, nevertheless, images of Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce ploughing literary detective fields in black and white are an inspiration.

It was my friend Debbie Minto who had mentioned the body in the library. She had whispered rumours of a corpse that had disappeared following foul play. I called this incident the Body in the Library. My usual vocabulary was impressive for an 11-year-old or so I was told albeit this case name was stating the patently obvious.

In an homage to Sherlock Holmes lore, Debbie was my sidekick-in-scarlet, so named because she wore the said colour from time to time and as an homage to the famous novel – A Study in Scarlet. We would watch all the old films together when we could. It was always competitive trying to be first to solve the clues.

Weekends came around so slowly during term time when we were kids. With hours to fill, imaginations were tested, boredom very much the enemy and an uncompromising one at that. This springtime Saturday was no different to most as we sat next to each other on the dusty curb, cars passing by occasionally as we kept legs scrunched up to our bodies. Pale sunshine shone when stubborn clouds allowed. Any possibility of potential torpor didn’t materialise.

“Danny Evans said he definitely saw something suspicious at the library. His mum was finishing her shift behind the desk yesterday. As she came around to meet him after school, the door was open to the room behind. He said there was a body lying on the floor.”

Debbie’s face was a living cabinet of curiosity, mystery etched onto her features. The revelation had been made with no preamble of any kind. We exchanged questioning looks. It seemed unlikely that a murder had been committed in plain sight like that but clearly something was amiss.

“Did he say what it looked like? The body. Was it anyone he knew?”

My mind was racing; I had to get to the bottom of it and crack the case.

“Not that I can remember. He said he saw a head. It looked like someone lying on their back.”

I stroked my chin in thought. If only I had a pipe. The fact was, I was too young to smoke.

There was only one thing for it, a proper investigation was required. We needed to visit the library.

“I take it you had lunch before coming out? Perhaps egg and sausages?” I squinted in a professorial manner.

“I may have done. How would you know?”

“Oh...the egg stain on your glittery Bay City Rollers t-shirt and the smell of bangers on your breath. Elementary my dear Debbie. Elementary.”

I could feel the superiority radiating from my body.

“Are there any more details, however small, that can be recalled from this discovery? Every tiny aspect helps.” My eyes screwed with mental effort.

“Hmmmm……well….he did say something about the face being red; he wasn’t sure.”

All sorts of theories filled my head. Was the victim strangled, their face burning bright red as the metaphorical lights went out? But then….wouldn’t that be blue rather than red? Perhaps there had been an altercation with one of the library staff resulting in a fight going too far. On checking for a pulse and finding none, a panic-stricken member of staff may have hauled the body into a quiet room before anyone realised what was going on.

“Shall we go then?” Debbie stood, brushing the sides of her jeans with her hands.

It was a ten minute walk to the library down the wide avenue of Hurlingham Road and onto the asphalt pavement flanking the busy dual-carriageway that is Kingstanding Road. We ambled along, speculating about possible scenarios before side-tracking onto the trials and tribulations of classroom politics. ‘Pecan’ Pete Postlethwaite fancied Heather Trimble by all accounts and would get caught gazing at her rather than paying attention to the teacher. The resulting low-level kerfuffle broke the monotony of lessons, if nothing else.

Kingstanding library is an innocuous looking building, all brick and timber with a large glass frontage. We stood outside trying to look inconspicuous whilst covertly discussing tactics. Somehow, one of us needed to evade the staff and find a way into the room where, allegedly, the cadaver was spotted. We cased the joint between us, watching the lady behind the reception desk and monitoring the movements of other librarians as they milled about. Debbie whispered in my ear, her hand cupped to avoid being overheard or lip-read. I nodded in agreement.

Moments later, my partner-in-crime was unobtrusively wandering about inside the building. Choosing the right moment, with the grace of a Hollywood actress, she put the back of her hand to her forehead before flopping ceremoniously down to the ground. Having landed in a heap, a murmuring crowd soon gathered around the prone girl. The lady receptionist skipped through a flapping, waist-high side door to check on the situation.

This was my chance.

Whilst everyone had been drawn to the unfolding drama of a collapsed Debbie Minto, I sneaked in taking the opposite path to the one taken by the lady librarian. I was behind the desk with the door to the staff room just a few feet away. I pushed it open…

…and…

…was…

…in.

Before me stood a Formica table with six chairs on either side, a kitchen sideboard with stainless steel sink on the left and a worn sofa on the right. At the bottom was a large walk-in cupboard with wooden double doors. I scanned the panorama surveying the scene. Other than incriminating crockery that needed either hand washing or putting in the dishwasher, there was no sign of a body.

“Erm….can I help you?”

The question came from behind me; one of the librarians had stolen in quietly.

I puffed my chest out for confidence.

“Perhaps you can, sir. There have been reports of misdeeds afoot hereabouts. Can I request some pertinent information?”

The middle-aged man with snowy hair and wispy goatee took a step back in surprise. He thought about it for a moment, smiled uncertainly, then went along with it.

“O….K….fire away.”

“There is an account from a reputable source that someone may have been the victim of a serious crime in this very room. Vis-à-vis…a body has been seen.”

“Oh, I see. And when was this?”

I put my hand to my chin, bent forward and started to pace the room.

“I believe the incident may have occurred between the hours of 3pm and 5pm on Friday afternoon. As of yet, there are no suspects.”

The librarian grinned again and shuffled towards me. I watched as he slipped past and moved on to the cupboard. Slowly opening the doors, he suddenly swivelled on his heels and was facing me once more.

“Would the body have looked like this, do you think?”

Inside was a manikin lying face down.  

“I do believe that this is our practice dummy for our first aid training session that was last conducted yesterday afternoon.

“When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” I stated.

“Yes…yes I think you may be right.” The librarian concurred.

 

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