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someone may try to harm Lenny,” I said. “We’re here to keep that from happening.”

“Of course, you are,” she said, but she didn’t look convinced.

“Honestly,” I said, “trouble is less likely to happen at the Carnegie than someplace else.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s simple, really. Too many people will be at the library that night.”

“You mean, too many witnesses?”

McHale had seen the requisite number of Law & Order episodes. But I welcomed all the help I could get.

“Too many witnesses, sure. But these people only want Lenny, nobody else.”

McHale nodded. “If these hoodlums hurt other people or damage the library, the community will demand they be brought to justice.”

McHale had also read her police procedurals.

I nodded. “But Lenny Stern’s an easier target, more vulnerable, out in the open, a car, on the street. It’s harder to get at him inside a building with lots of people around.”

McHale pondered that for a moment.

“How can I help, Mr. Russo?”

I leaned in, elbows on the table.

“Tell me about access to Lenny’s presentation in the rotunda. Who comes and goes, and when?”

“We’ve issued tickets for that,” she said. “Business and community VIPs, benefactors of the library.”

“Will they use all the tickets?”

McHale shook her head. “Some people just don’t come, some give them away.” She stopped in mid-sentence. “Oh, I think I see. Tickets might get into the hands of the hoodlums?”

I nodded. “Nothing we can do about that. What time do you open the doors?”

“An hour before the official start time,” she said.

“Is it all right with you if I show up when you unlock the doors, just take a look, hang around the door, watch people drift in?”

“Of course. What about Mr. Stern?”

“My associate will come with Lenny,” I said. “When do you want him here?”

“We’ve already talked to him about the schedule.”

“What happens after Lenny’s finished?”

“Well,” she said, “a few members of the audience will buttonhole him to talk.” She smiled. “But that gives us a chance to clear the chairs and set up for Mr. Stern’s book signing.”

“You have a regular procedure for that, I suppose?”

McHale nodded. “The signing table will be at one end of the rotunda. We’ll put another table, with books and a cash register on it, between the doors and Mr. Stern’s table.”

“Two hours to sign books?”

“Give or take a few minutes, yes. A little more than four hours start-to-finish for the evening.”

I sat back in my chair.

“I think that about covers it,” I said. “Will you be there?”

“Of course,” she said. “Mr. Stern is a big event for the library. The attention helps with fund raising, future events, and so forth.”

We stood up and shook hands.

“I heard a story that this building used to be the phone company. Anything to that?”

She nodded. “Michigan Bell Telephone Company. Back in the days when phones had wires instead of satellites.”

I smiled. “Thank you, again, for making time.”

“Glad to help.”

“See you soon,” I said, and turned to leave.

“Mr. Russo?”

I looked back at Andrea McHale. She started to say something, then paused. I knew what was on her mind, but instead she said, “Stay cool in all this heat.”

12

Outside, the heatwave continued on its merry way: hot sun, heavy air, not a hint of rain. I entered the office, but Sandy wasn’t at her desk.

“She left early.”

It was Henri in my office. He had maneuvered my desk chair so he could put his feet on the window ledge and keep an eye on the cool blue waters of Little Traverse Bay. AJ sat in a client chair, her feet on the corner of my desk.

I took the other client chair. “Say where she was going?”

“Something about you being a real hard ass, and she’d had enough.”

We laughed.

“No, really, where’d she go?”

“Dentist appointment.”

“What’re you doing here?” I said to AJ.

“I just needed to get out of the office, clear my head.”

Henri dropped his feet to the floor and scooted the chair behind my desk.

“Here, she left these,” he said, handing me several sticky notes.

I sifted through the messages.

“Anything important?”

I looked up. “Do you really want to know?”

Henri smiled. “Just being polite. You talk to the library lady?”

“Let me make one call first,” I said, reaching for the office phone.

Henri grinned. “Who we calling?”

“Maury Weston.”

“Don’t bother,” AJ said. “He’ll just tell you that Charles Bigelow arrives on the last plane tonight into Traverse City. Maury’s meeting the plane. Bigelow’s staying with him.”

“What about Hubbell, the editor?”

“She’s already here,” AJ said. “Drove up yesterday.”

“Wouldn’t the boss pop for a plane ticket?” Henri said.

AJ laughed. “She’s staying with her sister, on the other side of Alanson.”

“Back to the library lady,” Henri said.

“That would be Andrea McHale, the director.”

“She worried?”

“Concerned in a business-like way,” I said.

“Good to hear.”

“This is a lot more serious for her than collecting book fines.”

“I assume you want me to stick with Lenny,” Henri said.

“Yeah, he’s finally used to you telling him what to do. No point messing with a good thing. I’ll meet McHale at the library before she opens the doors.”

“I’ll have Lenny there on time,” Henri said. “What’s happening with you newspaper types, AJ?”

“We haven’t organized anything, if that’s what you mean. We’re just going to meet at the office and walk to the Carnegie.” She looked at Henri, then me. “Why are you asking? Have there been new threats?”

“No,” I said. “But I need to talk to Kate Hubbell.”

“Tina explained the situation to her,” AJ said. “She’ll be out of town with her sister when she’s not with us.”

“We still have to meet her,” Henri said.

“Of course,” AJ said. “The least we can do is show her what the good guys look like.”

“How about early tomorrow?” I said.

“Maury will arrange it,” AJ said.

“Hold on a second,” Henri said, looking at his phone. “Lenny’s done with work. I told him we’d stop at the Side Door on the way home.”

Henri said good-bye and left the office.

I reached over and touched AJ’s left hand. “You hungry?”

She shrugged. “Not much. But I’ll get soup, maybe a salad.”

“Let’s walk over to City

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