Fire Engine Dead Read Online Free Page A

haven’t had time to check to see for how much. No doubt it’s wellbelow replacement value. And certainly those items are irreplaceable in any case.”
    “What is it you think I can provide?”
    “As much information as you have about the individual items, I guess. That would help us to file a claim, and it would also enable us to drum up sympathy from the public when we try to rebuild the collections. Or maybe I should say,
if
we try. For all I know the board may decide to scrap the place.”
    He looked so miserable I scrambled to find something positive to say. “Well, until someone has been through the warehouse, you don’t know how much you’ve lost, right? Maybe you’ll be lucky. And in the meantime, I can ask our librarians to see what we’ve got on the collections. I’d hate to see the museum fold—it’s a gem of its kind.”
    “I certainly think so.” Peter stood up. “Thank you, Nell. I appreciate your willingness to help, even if you don’t find anything. I feel just sick about the whole thing.”
    “I’m happy to help—that’s what we’re here for, as a repository of local archives. Let me walk you out.” I guided him back to the elevator and down to the lobby. Peter said little along the way, apparently sunk in his own misery, and I couldn’t blame him. At the door I said, “I’ll give you a call as soon as I know anything. Try not to take it too hard.” I watched him stumble down our stone steps and pause at the bottom, as if he’d lost his way.
    He really did seem like a man in shock. I wondered how I would feel in his shoes. Of course, our collections were much more extensive, and probably more valuable than his. Not to mention far more vulnerable to fire—all those tons of paper, hanging over my head. I resolved to check thestate of our fire suppression systems. As far as I knew, no one had looked at them for a while.
    Back upstairs, Eric looked up when I walked past his desk, questions in his eyes. I debated whether to share with him what Peter had told me about the behind-the-scenes mess but decided against it, so I just shook my head slightly. “Eric, I’ll fill you in when I can, but right now I’ve got to keep what Peter Ingersoll told me in confidence.” I checked my watch—almost lunchtime. “I’m going to go out to get some lunch, and then you can go eat. I need to talk to Felicity after lunch, and maybe Latoya.” Felicity Soames was our all-seeing, all-knowing head librarian, who could lay hands on anything that was in the building, as she had demonstrated on more than one occasion. Latoya Anderson was our vice president of collections; her knowledge of our records was less encyclopedic than Felicity’s, but I thought I should keep her in the loop, since this was an outside request for items in our collections. Latoya and I had a slightly rocky professional relationship, but I knew she could be closemouthed about things and wouldn’t let this go beyond the walls of the Society. “I don’t have anything else scheduled for today, do I?”
    “No, you’re clear.”
    As I left the building in search of a quick sandwich down the block, I realized that Peter hadn’t said anything about whether the fire had actually been a case of arson, although the newspaper article had clearly indicated it most likely was. Not that it would make a difference to Peter, since the collections were gone either way, whether the cause was arson or an act of God.

CHAPTER 3
    Once I’d eaten lunch, I went looking for Felicity. I was caught up on my administrative responsibilities for the day, and I always enjoyed the librarian’s company. She’d been at the Society forever; her love for information in any form was obvious, and she was unfailingly thrilled to pass it on. Any hapless visitor who approached her with a simple question usually walked away with a stack of references and photocopies an hour later.
    Felicity was, as usual, behind her desk, which sat on a raised dais so that she