The Department of Rare Books and Special Collections(72)

“This library is his monument,” the writer said, looking at President Garber. “Lawrence, don’t you think this library is his monument?”

“Built in his image,” one of the onlookers said.

Liesl rolled her eyes without meaning to, but it didn’t matter as she had gone invisible in this group of important and moneyed people.

“Really,” the writer said. “Imagine this place without Christopher. Without his constant arm-twisting to part us from our papers and our books.”

“And our money!”

“Percy, don’t be crass.”

Predictably, Percy Pickens had joined their circle.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Percy shouted, slurring slightly, attracting attention from the rest of the room.

“Was there more, Percy?” Liesl asked.

The important heads all turned in unison to her. Her invisibility cloak had slipped a bit.

“What’s that, Liesl?” Percy said.

“Percy,” Liesl said. “You said ‘Don’t misunderstand me’ but then never finished your thought.”

“Indeed I did!” he said.

“Well?”

She was sure he wouldn’t regain his train of thought, but she was wrong.

“I loved giving old Chris my money.”

“You’ve been very generous, Percy,” she said.

“I don’t regret a penny I gave Chris. What I regret is this terrible business with the thief.”

During this proclamation, President Garber had managed to slide his way out of the circle. He was well on his way to the other side of the room where he could act oblivious.

Liesl drained her glass.

“Terrible business, that woman,” Percy said.

“Percy, it’s not the time for this,” the Nobel winner said.

“They’ll show up on some black market years from now, the books will,” Percy said. “You mark my words. Of course, we’ll all be dead by then.”

Liesl smiled at the writer, thankful for her help. “Let’s not spoil this,” Liesl said.

Enter Marie. Marie, who had declined to speak at the memorial service as Christopher must have known she would. Marie, who was left out of his instructions. Marie, who was clutching a bottle of water. Marie, who nodded at Liesl but didn’t come over.

Marie attracted her own circle of sycophants. Liesl tried to make eye contact across the room to give a supportive smile but couldn’t quite capture Marie’s attention and then reckoned it was for the best. Max was by her side in a moment proposing a toast, and the circle that had been assembled was immediately busy, filling glasses, raising glasses, clinking glasses. Marie let the group make their toast, but she didn’t take a glass. She clung to her bottle of water. Max held her arm like she was a valuable possession. She let him. It kept her upright. The tragedy of Christopher was all the more tragic with Marie in the room.

“It’s the perfect time,” Percy said. “This business. What that woman did. It breaks my heart.”

Liesl tensed at his tone, at his accusation. She waited for one of the important heads to chide him, to steer him away from the topic of Miriam. None did.

“It breaks my heart for Chris too,” the writer said. “But she was a sick woman. Wasn’t she sick? That’s what I understand of the mess.”

“She offed herself. Is that what you mean?”

“What a terrible way to put it, Percy.” She swatted his arm. Playfully, it looked to Liesl. As if it were a playful thing. “She was a troubled person, and it’s terrible for the library, of course. But what can you do? She was clearly having a difficult time, and that is how it manifested. A grasp for money. A cry for help.”

“A scream for help,” one of the group chimed in.

“So you’re all saying I should feel sorry for that woman? After what she did?”

“Have a little compassion, Percy.”

“Call me uncompassionate.” Percy wiped the back of his hand against a slightly sweating forehead. “But I don’t have a lick of sympathy for that woman. After what she did. I think the thefts, everything that was going on, I think that’s what killed Christopher. Don’t you think she killed Christopher?”

Liesl shut her eyes and reflexively bit her lip to keep from speaking up, as she’d been conditioned to keep from speaking up against people with money who she might have to ask for favors.

Percy waited for the group to agree.

“What she did to him,” Percy said. “It breaks my heart.”

“Percy, Christopher has been unconscious through all of this,” Liesl said. Not an admonishment. A reminder.

“Oh, Liesl,” Percy said. “A great man like that. You don’t think he could feel all this in his bones?”

“Can I borrow Liesl for a moment, folks?” Francis said, appearing in the circle. His eyes were puffy from wine and tears. It was perfect stage makeup. It added depth and character. It made Liesl want to stroke his face. She was on her fourth chardonnay. She nodded to the group and let Francis lead her away.

“What is it?” Liesl said. Her muscles became looser the further she walked from Percy. “Do the caterers need something?” She froze for a moment. “We’re not out of wine, are we?”