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Authors: Caleb Krisp
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was perfect. I could slip inside undetected. But as I reached the doors, I glanced one final time at the librarian – I saw a small figure dart away from her, disappearing around the side of the building.
Miss Carnage looked rather unsettled when she turned and found me gawking at her.
‘That was just a boy from the post office,’ she said quickly. ‘I am sending a rather important telegram to India.’
Oh. Now I understood. The dreary librarian had a sweetheart in India. An officer in the British army. Miss Carnage had not told me a great deal about him, but from what I gathered he was frightfully neglectful.
‘I find that the future weighs heavily, Ivy,’ she said, threading her arm in mine and walking with me into the busy library. ‘I have asked my friend to declare his intentions one way or the other, for I feel we have been courting long enough.’
‘I applaud you, Miss Carnage,’ I said, patting her arm. ‘If this brute thinks he can do better than you – which is highly likely – then it’s best that you know now so that you might find someone slightly less dashing.’
But my words of inspiration did little to lift her spirits.
‘Now I shall have to wait for his reply,’ she said, stepping behind the front desk – which was exactly where I did not want her to be. ‘Waiting is not easy, as I am rather impatient.’
‘I know just how you feel, dear. I once waited for my luck to change – took eleven minutes. As you might imagine, I was furious .’
After my triumph in the viewing parlour, I had managed to convince Mother Snagsby to let me visit the library. I may have told her that I had several overdue books that were certain to attract heavy fines. Mother Snagsby never met a penny she didn’t love. I was to return the books and be back before lunch.
Which meant I had to get straight to the point.
‘Miss Carnage, I confess that I have heard a troubling rumour.’
‘Oh?’ said the librarian.
I looked through the glass partition into the office behind. As it was Monday and Mr Ledger was out having tea with his mother, it was delightfully empty. I leaned in for good effect. ‘I have heard whispers that the catalogue has been tampered with.’
The librarian gasped. Looked with alarm and horror at the large cabinet full of tiny drawers on the far side of the room – each containing hundreds of alphabetically arranged indexcards identifying the location of each and every book in the grand library.
‘Apparently, all of the cards have been shuffled,’ I went on. ‘A search for Gulliver’s Travels will send you to German History. It’s utterly shocking.’
‘Heavens,’ said Miss Carnage, clutching her throat. ‘Excuse me, Ivy, I must see to this immediately.’
The good woman hurried away. And so did I.
Finding the vault beneath the library was stupendously easy. Miss Carnage’s detailed instructions could not have been more help if she had actually been trying to lead me there. I passed swiftly into the back office. Opened the bottom drawer. Found the key lying there beneath a pile of papers.
With lightning speed, I crossed the room, went down a short hall. The narrow stairs were rather rickety, but I was beneath the library in no time at all.
It was rather gloomy down there. A long, dark chamber where even the shadows seemed to have shadows. Luckily, there was just enough daylight washing down from the stairway to locate a candle and a box of matches. With the aid of aflickering flame, I made my way towards the back. The crypt was a wonderland of crates and boxes and filing cabinets. Stone walls. Low arched ceiling. The musty smell of mouldy paper and dampness.
To say I found the old printing press with ease would be an understatement. The large metal contraption wasn’t even covered. And beneath it was a small green safe – visible to anyone who happened to pass by. It was all very disappointing.
I placed the key in the lock and turned it. Grabbed the rusted silver
Miss Carnage looked rather unsettled when she turned and found me gawking at her.
‘That was just a boy from the post office,’ she said quickly. ‘I am sending a rather important telegram to India.’
Oh. Now I understood. The dreary librarian had a sweetheart in India. An officer in the British army. Miss Carnage had not told me a great deal about him, but from what I gathered he was frightfully neglectful.
‘I find that the future weighs heavily, Ivy,’ she said, threading her arm in mine and walking with me into the busy library. ‘I have asked my friend to declare his intentions one way or the other, for I feel we have been courting long enough.’
‘I applaud you, Miss Carnage,’ I said, patting her arm. ‘If this brute thinks he can do better than you – which is highly likely – then it’s best that you know now so that you might find someone slightly less dashing.’
But my words of inspiration did little to lift her spirits.
‘Now I shall have to wait for his reply,’ she said, stepping behind the front desk – which was exactly where I did not want her to be. ‘Waiting is not easy, as I am rather impatient.’
‘I know just how you feel, dear. I once waited for my luck to change – took eleven minutes. As you might imagine, I was furious .’
After my triumph in the viewing parlour, I had managed to convince Mother Snagsby to let me visit the library. I may have told her that I had several overdue books that were certain to attract heavy fines. Mother Snagsby never met a penny she didn’t love. I was to return the books and be back before lunch.
Which meant I had to get straight to the point.
‘Miss Carnage, I confess that I have heard a troubling rumour.’
‘Oh?’ said the librarian.
I looked through the glass partition into the office behind. As it was Monday and Mr Ledger was out having tea with his mother, it was delightfully empty. I leaned in for good effect. ‘I have heard whispers that the catalogue has been tampered with.’
The librarian gasped. Looked with alarm and horror at the large cabinet full of tiny drawers on the far side of the room – each containing hundreds of alphabetically arranged indexcards identifying the location of each and every book in the grand library.
‘Apparently, all of the cards have been shuffled,’ I went on. ‘A search for Gulliver’s Travels will send you to German History. It’s utterly shocking.’
‘Heavens,’ said Miss Carnage, clutching her throat. ‘Excuse me, Ivy, I must see to this immediately.’
The good woman hurried away. And so did I.
Finding the vault beneath the library was stupendously easy. Miss Carnage’s detailed instructions could not have been more help if she had actually been trying to lead me there. I passed swiftly into the back office. Opened the bottom drawer. Found the key lying there beneath a pile of papers.
With lightning speed, I crossed the room, went down a short hall. The narrow stairs were rather rickety, but I was beneath the library in no time at all.
It was rather gloomy down there. A long, dark chamber where even the shadows seemed to have shadows. Luckily, there was just enough daylight washing down from the stairway to locate a candle and a box of matches. With the aid of aflickering flame, I made my way towards the back. The crypt was a wonderland of crates and boxes and filing cabinets. Stone walls. Low arched ceiling. The musty smell of mouldy paper and dampness.
To say I found the old printing press with ease would be an understatement. The large metal contraption wasn’t even covered. And beneath it was a small green safe – visible to anyone who happened to pass by. It was all very disappointing.
I placed the key in the lock and turned it. Grabbed the rusted silver
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