The Blue Girl Read Online Free

underwater. The entrance hall was dark and empty, but light spilled from an open door to my right and I stepped through it into a visual paean to literature. A bright green carpet was dotted all round with knee-high tables, each stacked with books. Elegant but comfortable-looking chairs ringed the tables and more chairs were set out under the tall windows in a reading nook. The rest of the walls were windowless and bookcases stretched up to the two-story-high ceiling. A brass railing enclosed the gallery that circled the room. I had never seen so many books in my life. I studied the shelves carefully, looking for those lurid books bound in marbled paper that the priest had collected.
    “It was a private library at one time.”
    I jumped and smiled in the direction of the voice. A young woman was standing behind an escritoire at the back of the room. She was holding a pen with an extravagant plume and I wondered whether she might want to tickle me with it. The writing desk was littered with papers and note cards and the woman had an ink smudge on her forehead that somehow accentuated her beauty.
    “I’m sorry?” I said.
    “A writer,” the woman said. “He donated this library upon his death.”
    “I see.”
    “You looked overwhelmed and I thought you might like to know a bit of the history of this place. I haven’t seen you in here before, have I?”
    “No. And I certainly haven’t seen you or I’d remember.”
    The woman blushed and sat back down, using the plume to hide her face. She had her auburn hair done up in a chignon and she wore glasses on a chain around her neck. Even with those standard accoutrements, she didn’t fit my notion of a librarian.
    “I’m Pringle.”
    “And I’m Veronica. Are you new to the neighborhood?”
    “I was thinking of moving to the neighborhood and now I’ve made up my mind.”
    “What’s decided you?”
    “I’ve met you.”
    “You may want to look at the rest of the neighborhood first. Or perhaps another neighborhood entirely.”
    “I’m quite decisive.”
    “As am I. That’s why you may want to look elsewhere.”
    Ah. But I am resolute in the face of rejection. A woman’s mind is easily changed. So the saying goes, and I believe it.
    “I’m returning something for a friend,” I said. I held up the book the old priest had given me.
    “Leave it on that table.” She waved her feather in the general direction of the entrance.
    I set the book down. I had skimmed through it, but it wasn’t the sort of story I like. All the girls in it are ill-used, poisoned, even dismembered. I prefer women who are whole and happy, and who enjoy my company. Veronica the librarian didn’t qualify. Not yet. But adjusting one’s tactics often helps. As does the occasional outright lie.
    “I haven’t been honest with you,” I said.
    “Men rarely are.”
    “I’m Inspector Pringle of the Yard.” I was glad I’d changed my clothes. My suit was not the sort that a detective would wear every day on the job. It was much too nice, but I didn’t expect her to notice that. She was a librarian, after all.
    “Is that so?” she said.
    “It is. And I’m on the trail of a dangerous killer.”
    “And it’s led you to my library? Goodness.” But Veronica didn’t appear the least bit concerned. She turned her attention to the pile of cards on the desk and the white plume of her pen bobbed and weaved as she scribbled. She wore a diamond ring on the third finger of her right hand and it clicked against the shaft of the pen. I saw no ring on her other hand and my hopes rose.
    “I wonder if you’d mind answering some questions?”
    Veronica didn’t look up. “Are you still here?”
    “There’s no need to be rude, is there?”
    She set her pen back down on the desk and looked up at me. “Are you really a police inspector?”
    “Would I lie to you?”
    “You lied to me when you said you were moving to the neighborhood.”
    “But that was only meant as a conversation