It was Jane’s idea to head back to the library. As I already said, we were lost, but it wasn’t impossible. We used Gil’s luck and Jane’s sense of direction. She was remarkably more helpful now that we’d made it clear that her life was probably on the line. Theories, but they all seemed to make plenty of sense.
“I didn’t make that mess in there,” she said.
“What?”
She lead the way, walking with a little CSI flashlight in front of her. “It occurred to me why you immediately believed I was searching for Y Ddraig Goch. I don’t know why it took as long as it did, but at this point that doesn’t matter. But it was the books, wasn’t it? The mess in the library?”
Gil nodded. “I figured you’d been digging through the stacks, searching for something. I mean, I never figured it was actually Y Ddraig Goch that you were looking for. I mean, that’s like Bob Ballard looking for Atlantis. I figured you were just some whacko looking for a signed copy of The Boxcar Children #1. I had no idea it was Y Ddraig Goch that you were after.”
“But you assumed I had been the person searching the library?”
“Yep, that part’s right.”
“Well, it wasn’t me.”
“You know, in retrospect, trashing the place doesn’t seem much your style.”
Jane shook her head. “No, it is not.”
“Then who was it?” Gil asked.
“Logic says Fehr,” I said.
“But why would Fehr have to dig around for his own book?” Gil said. “If he was always the mastermind here, why would he not know where his best scary books were hidden?”
“The biggest question for me is: why now? Why is all of this happening now? Fehr’s been here for, what? Sixty years? Sixty-five? Why is this happening now?”
“Perhaps my employer is beginning to ruffle feathers,” Jane said. “Whoever my employer may be.”
“I’ve got some ideas as to who your employer is,” Gil muttered. “But I’m not one to speculate. Just make inappropriate jokes, really. As for the whole why now thing? Most likely it’s because our friend Dawkins came in here like a bull in a china shop.”
“All right,” I said. “Then who rifled through the library?”
No one had an answer for that, the most obvious being “someone else.” There may or may not have been a collective groan at the very idea. In my opinion, four people in Callowleigh, the hell house, was already four people too many.