Amanda Cadabra and The Hidden Depths by Holly Bell (good book recommendations TXT) 📗

not present to impart this choice information, and Amanda’s natural kindness overcame her reluctance.

‘Of course, Mrs Entwhistle.’ She accepted the handkerchief. ‘I’ll be right back.’

Amanda went to the old battered black and gold cashbox under the counter where the key was kept, and undid the green metal door. The light switch was just inside. She pressed it on and began careful progress down the stone steps, the soles of her shoes grating. High heels were hardly designed for such an expedition.

Steadying herself with a hand on the wall, she felt it pass from brick to chalky stone. The final flight confronted the dark of the cavernous space beyond. Amanda hastened to put on the light. It always seemed to be dim down there. But the sight that greeted her eyes was unmistakable. One of the tall racks had fallen, shedding its monstrous load onto the space of the aisle beside it. Spilt volumes of encyclopaedias, other hefty tomes and loose shelves were piled under the makeshift roof, formed by the toppled rack leaning at angle over its neighbour.

Amanda shook her head. Her first thought was that this was going to be a job and a half for the librarians. Her second was that, hopefully, the book was not among this chaos. The third was that, of course, if it were, it would mean not having to get the stepladder to reach the top shelf if that was where it had been. No harm in having a quick scan to see if she was lucky.

Checking the obstacle course of literature radiating out from ground zero, Amanda approached the wreck. That was when she saw it. Amongst the tomes, the black designer, Edwardian lace-up boot with the impossibly skinny, angled heel … a bare leg, a dark sports-top-sleeved arm.

Amanda picked her way, half-sliding, and of necessity treading iconoclastically on the books until … a spread of long dark hair … leading back to the somnolent face of Samantha Gibbs. Balancing precariously on debris, Amanda felt for a pulse in the neck and wrist. Nothing. But the body was still warm.

She stayed still and looked around, listening … Was there someone …?

‘Hello?’ she called out.

Amanda had had that sense before … that she was not alone down here. She had had the vision even of the shelves coming crashing down as she ran through them … and now ….

Her chest was tightening. I must get help, she thought. And discreetly.

Amanda went towards the steps. No … if this was not an accident, whoever did it could still be here. To leave, they would have to pass her. There was only one thing to do. Taking out her phone, she checked for a signal. Dead.

Slowly, Amanda climbed the steps, her breathing increasingly laboured, watching the screen. Up and up she went until, with the door in sight, the signal bars appeared. She pressed dial and sank down onto the cold stone, with watchful relief.

Chapter 15

Inspector Trelawney Takes the Helm

Detective Sergeant Baker of Barnet Hill Police Station looked at the screen of his ringing phone, and turned down the corners of his mouth comically, as he answered it.

‘Afternoon, Miss Cadabra. And where is it this time?’

‘It?’ asked Amanda, momentarily distracted from her mission.

‘Or are there two?’

‘Erm?’

‘Body. I assume you’ve found another one. It’s been weeks, after all.’

‘Er yes, sergeant.’ Amanda was used to his manner. She took a breath. ‘I’m calling from the basement of Sunken Madley Library. There’s been an accident, that is … I think … I can’t tell …’

‘The Body in the Library. How literary,’ he said drily. ‘Make sure it isn’t touched.’

‘Of course. And I haven’t told anyone. There’s a party going on upstairs.’

‘All right.’ The sergeant’s voice warmed. ‘Where are you? Are you safe?’

‘Yes, I’m at the top of the stairs just inside the door to the stacks. It’s the green metal one behind the counter.’

‘I know. Thank you, Miss Cadabra. Stay where you are. I’ll be right there.’ Baker said reassuringly

Amanda descended to the lower stairs and surveyed the wreckage. Shelves, she pondered, perhaps they’d been top-heavy. Reluctant to penetrate further and risk disturbing the crime scene more than she had done already, she returned to the topmost stair just inside the door.

Standing there, she felt again the urge she had had that day, last year. It was the urge to run, to put as much distance between herself and that … space below. That strange atmosphere.

On the other hand, she didn’t want to be spotted by Mrs Entwhistle either. Fortunately, the door was sufficiently ajar to allow in light and sound but not enough to reveal Amanda’s presence.

She sat, going over what she had seen, rubbing her arms against the chill that seemed to rise from the stacks. Suddenly … she sensed something was coming up the stairs … Amanda sat stock-still. At once, she let out an explosive breath of relief as Tempest padded into view, looking up at her questioningly.

‘Oh, for goodness sake!’ she exclaimed. ‘Have you been down there all along? I thought … oh, never mind.’

Amanda’s familiar obligingly occupied her lap, providing her with some much-needed warmth. She cuddled him, drawing comfort from his self-assured presence. Soon, she heard the welcome sound of cars arriving, doors shutting, and then Baker’s voice … calmly …

‘Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention, please.’ The hubbub subsided. ‘I regret to inform you that there has been an accident.’ A murmur of enquiry, mingled with curiosity and a hint of apprehension went up from the guests. ‘Consequently, I must ask you all to remain within the library for the time being. Apologies to John and Mrs Pagely. Thank you for your co-operation. We will keep you informed.’

Amanda heard footsteps approaching. The door opened wider.

‘Miss Cadabra.’ Tempest slid away into the shadows. Baker reached down a hand to help Amanda to her feet, observing her pallor and short breath.

‘Sergeant Baker. Thank you.’ She pointed. ‘Down there …’ He led the way, and she followed.

He