The Library Paradox by Catherine Shaw Read Free Book Online

sat at a desk just within the main door, a pile of books before him.
    ‘This is Edmund Bryant,’ said the professor, pausing briefly before the desk to introduce me to him. ‘Our department has hired him to watch the library by day, so that it may continue to be used by students and faculty.’ I greeted him quietly, observing with interest his pale face equipped with a rather long, very narrow nose, a high forehead and oddly light eyes which seemed to emerge with difficulty from a state of deep concentration.
    ‘You are studying?’ I asked him.
    ‘I am working on my dissertation,’ he replied, and something like a flash of resentment appeared briefly in his eyes and disappeared immediately as he turned to his books again.
    The other occupant of the library, a student with disarranged clothes and tousled hair, stood on a ladder fetching down a book from a high shelf. Upon hearing us enter, he descended. At the sight of Professor Taylor, he turned somewhat pale.
    ‘Ah, Randall,’ said the professor with a vinegary smile. ‘I am indeed pleased to have encountered you. How fortuitous. I believe you have something for me, do you not? It is already somewhat late.’
    ‘Oh, um, ahem, yes, of course,’ mumbled the student in deep embarrassment. ‘It is … that is … it is at home, have not had time yet to …’
    ‘Please do give it to me at the first opportunity,’ said Professor Taylor. ‘I am beginning to correct them today.’ And he continued to stand fixing the student with his sharp eyes. Completely flustered, the poor young man murmured a hasty assent, and putting the book he had selected down on the nearest table, left the library as quickly as he could.
    ‘One of the students in my advanced Medieval Commerce class,’ said the professor with some annoyance. ‘Brilliant, but disorganised and permanently late. He has still not given me his draft on Early Apprenticeships in the Art of Metalworking, and has been avoiding me lately because of it. I expect he has not completed it yet. Well, he is gone now; to finish it, I hope. Now for the other one.’ He turned to the studious gentleman at the front desk.
    ‘I will be remaining here for some time, Bryant,’ he said. ‘You may leave for the afternoon. Leave me the keys to the front door and the main gate; I will lock up, and you can get them back tomorrow morning if you come to me before classes.’
    ‘Yes, sir,’ said Edmund respectfully but reluctantly, beginning to gather up his things. He looked put out, as though he had been perfectly happy where he was, anddid not particularly want to be sent away, and piled his books with distinct lack of energy. He seemed about to say something, but the professor forestalled him.
    ‘Oh, and will you be going to the main building? You couldn’t stop off and put this note into Professor Hudson’s letter box, could you? It would be most helpful.’ Taking up a notepad, he wrote something upon the first page, folded it carefully and handed it over. Edmund could not but take it, and I admired the professor’s dexterity.
    ‘I wrote out the dinner invitation for Sunday to Hudson,’ he confided to me when Edmund had disappeared down the path and out of the main gate. ‘Why not? This way it’s done, and Bryant is got rid of. Now let us deal with anyone else who might choose to appear.’
    He wrote
THE LIBRARY IS CLOSED TODAY
in large letters on the notepad, tore off the page, and pinned it to the heavy wooden front door, then closed it and locked it from the inside with the key he had authoritatively removed from Edmund’s possession.
    ‘Here we are, then,’ he said.
    It took him several minutes of patience, trying the keys on his ring in the keyhole of the locked door to Professor Ralston’s study in turn, but he eventually located the right one and the door swung open.
    ‘Ah, there we go,’ he said with satisfaction.
    The study presented a peculiar sight. The police had apparently left the furniture