“She hasn’t disappeared.”
“She has, though. An adult doesn’t stop showing up for work on a whim. Not unless something has happened.”
Liesl left Francis to his books. She had an idea for how she might reach Miriam that she was embarrassed hadn’t occurred to her earlier.
She nodded as she walked to the office, thinking, Daft woman, lousy leader, abysmal investigator, too wrapped up to grab the nearest rock and peer under it for answers. She picked up the desk phone, began to dial, and then hung it up before she’d finished, walking instead to her purse and taking out her cell phone and, distracted by her task, taking it out to the loading dock where it would be loud, true, but loud with people who weren’t interested in Liesl’s business. She considered a seat on the concrete steps but wrote it off as too dusty, then she lightly tapped the numbers that she read off a card and dialed the person who she should have called immediately.
“It’s so good to speak with you, Vivek,” Liesl said when he answered the phone. “How are you settling into your new role?”
There was a pause as Vivek seemed to walk from a loud room to somewhere quieter.
“It’s good, thank you,” he said. “They have me teaching three courses this term. I think it’s a hazing ritual.”
Liesl had viewed Vivek’s profile page from the university directory to get his phone number. She pictured his staff photo as they spoke. He was handsome in a way she’d never noticed.
“Hazing indeed,” she said as a heavy box of books landed on a squeaky dolly ten feet from her. “When I was in college the main method of hazing was servitude, so I guess a heavy course load isn’t far off.”
“I don’t mind too much, to be honest.”
“No. I’m sure it’s a great way to get to know your students.”
“Exactly,” Vivek said. “I have a couple of papers that will be coming out this year, so I can take a bit of a research break.”
She cleared her throat and turned her back to the noise. “Listen, Vivek. I actually have a sort of embarrassing reason to be calling.”
“I’m sure it isn’t embarrassing. Though I have to say I’m surprised to be hearing from you.”
One of the shippers had lit a cigarette and the haze wafting over to Liesl reminded her of Christopher.
“I’m sure you are,” she said.
“I mean no offense. I remember every dinner you ever bought me and Miriam while I was a grad student. I consider you a friend. But all things considered…” Vivek waited for Liesl to fill in the blank, but she didn’t, so it was dead air between them.
She stretched her neck and took a long inhale of the downwind smoke, and it was only after she’d let it out in an equally long exhale that she broke the silence on the line.
“I don’t know what things you mean.”
“Maybe you should go first. Why are you calling, Liesl?”
“Miriam has been absent from work for a few days, and I’m getting worried.”
Over on the loading dock, the back door of a delivery van closed with a satisfying rattle, and then there were no more people, just a skid of packaged books sitting all by itself.
“You mean she’s been ill?” Vivek asked.
“It might be that. But she hasn’t called to say so, and I can’t get her on the phone.”
“How long, Liesl? When did you last see her?” There was something in Vivek’s voice that Liesl couldn’t land on, a quality that made her want to, need to see his face to understand.
“She was last at work on Wednesday,” Liesl said. “Has she been home sick?”
“I don’t know,” Vivek said. “I’ve been staying with my parents.”
“I see.”
“She didn’t call at all?” Vivek said. “That isn’t like her.” The pitch of his voice was rising. “Why didn’t you call sooner? How worried do you think I should be?”
Liesl held the phone against her shoulder, so she had her hands free to pick at a hangnail. “Things have been uncertain around here. I thought she might have taken the days as vacation.”
“Is that possible? That she would have done that without you knowing?”
“It’s possible, yes,” Liesl said. “Christopher was never one for paperwork. She might have asked him for the days off.” The timbre of Vivek’s voice, the thing she couldn’t see, had gotten all the way inside her and made her twitchy. She walked across the loading dock because she found she couldn’t stand in one place any longer.
“And you have no reason to suspect anything different?” Vivek asked.
Liesl remembered it again. Miriam in front of her, desperate to talk. Brushed off, forgotten. Had it been about Vivek? Had she rushed to Liesl to confess their separation?
“Well, no. Unless you think I do?”
He mumbled a general no. “You’ll let me know when you hear from her?” Vivek asked.
Liesl agreed that she would. She had a lot of questions about the state of their marriage. How his move back to the city could bring them further apart rather than closer together. But it wasn’t the time for those questions.
She hesitated before hanging up the phone, scratched at a loose label on one of the boxes, chemistry books from a German publisher for the science library. She didn’t want to let him go yet, didn’t think she should. “Maybe you and I can have lunch when things are more settled.”
“Sure,” Vivek said. “When things are more settled.”
“She’ll come back from her holiday and think we’ve been very silly for worrying,” Liesl said.
“Well,” Vivek said. “I don’t think it’s silly at all to worry.”
9
The gilt-edged cards inviting the Friends of the Library to attend the annual Jackman Lecture didn’t explicitly say that the Plantin would be the topic. The invitations had gone out months earlier, before the check cleared. But there was subtext. The Jackman Lecture existed to make the library’s “friends” feel special. The university had more infrastructure to encourage donations than it had to keep the buildings standing.
There was condensation threatening the books in a small area on the northwest side of the building. But Liesl wasn’t spending her time dealing with the water. She was spending her time planning the Jackman Lecture. Or not planning the Jackman Lecture but staring into the middle distance and fanning herself with one of the gilt-edged cards. The phone on Christopher’s desk rang, scolding her for her lack of concentration. She reluctantly picked up the receiver, because the solution to her Jackman problem might be on the other end. It was a man from the university’s IT department. Liesl did not ask him if he would be willing to deliver the Jackman Lecture. He asked if he could visit that day and change the passwords on Christopher’s accounts so she could access them. This was such a sensible request that she was sure it had something to do with donations. She agreed. She put down the phone’s receiver and, after a beat, tucked the card into her pocket, pulled on her coat, and left the office.
Visiting the computer science and mathematics building, Liesl came up with the beginnings of a plan. As she walked into the back stairwell, two undergrads were huddled in the corner. One of the kids had an orange prescription bottle, and he got so spooked that he jammed it into his pocket. By the time she understood the nature of the transaction she was halfway up the steps. By then, it was too late to tell the kids that prescription drugs weren’t illegal, and acting as though they were was a great way to tip off a passerby that they were up to something.
Rhonda had a film crew outside her office. A couple of young men in black T-shirts were taking down an elaborate lighting setup. Rhonda was bent over in front of the camera on her laptop, wiping off makeup with a baby wipe.