Cleaning is Murder : Myrtle Clover #13

Chapter Sixteen

Philomena's features became grim. "Yes. Yes, one of the patrons was talking about Gabriel's death about an hour ago. It's terrible to hear. I don't know what's going on in this town."

Miles said as if trying to make polite conversation, "It must have been especially upsetting to you. You likely spent a good deal of time with Gabriel, considering Amos and he were such good friends."

Philomena looked down as she put her gala ticket carefully into her purse and then put her purse on a shelf behind the counter. "Not as much as you'd guess. He and Amos weren't seeing all that much of each other at the time Amos and I were dating. There may have been some hard words between them or something. I never pressed Amos on it because he and I were having too much fun together to have another person tag along with us. Perhaps Amos wasn't seeing Gabriel because Amos and I were always at the bookshop or the movies or a concert. His wife is more of a homebody and didn't like going out as much." She paused. "Still, it's hard to believe he's gone, especially considering that we saw him at the funeral this morning."

Myrtle said, "You've had a busy day, haven't you? Did you go straight from the funeral to work?"

Philomena looked steadily at her. "Not exactly. The library gave me a half day off. I had lunch and then took a walk." She sighed. "That's the trouble with being single. You never have a good alibi."

Myrtle said, "Do you have any idea who might be responsible for Gabriel's death? Or even more ideas for who could have been behind Amos's?"

Philomena's voice, already Library Low, dropped even further. "I hate to bring this up, Miss Myrtle, especially considering she's your friend and that you've brought her here."

Philomena looked across the room and Myrtle and Miles turned to look, too. They watched Puddin who was gleefully grabbing books, looking at the covers, and then sticking them randomly back on the shelves.

"You think Puddin could be the murderer?" asked Myrtle. She couldn't contain a note of disbelief.

"As I said, I hate to bring it up. But you asked," said Philomena briskly.

"Why do you believe that she could be involved?" asked Myrtle. "Because I can assure you Puddin is a very simple person. Far too foolish to plan and execute two murders."

Philomena said, "She threatened Amos right in front of me, right here in the library. She was most disturbed about not being promptly paid."

Myrtle nodded. The fury of an unpaid Puddin.

"And who knows? Gabriel could have seen or heard something that made him realize that she was guilty. The same patron who told me about Gabriel's death also told me that your friend was at the scene of the crime once again." Philomena spread her hands out in front of her as if the case was closed.

That patron was certainly a loud mouth.

Miles said quickly, "She's coming over, by the way."

Puddin was indeed staggering toward them, holding a load of books. None of them appeared to be on the reading level of either The Incredible Journey or Where the Red Fern Grows.

"Got some books," she said in a satisfied voice. She heaved them onto the circulation desk. "This where I check 'em out?"

Philomena immediately switched to full-fledged librarian mode. "That's right. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Found the same books Mr. Miles was readin'. Sherlock." Puddin smiled victoriously. "Him an' I go to the same book club."

Miles gave her a weak smile, likely envisioning Puddin calling him on the phone and demanding answers to questions about Sherlock, Watson, and whatever mystery they were embroiled in.