The Case of the Missing Books

‘Sure I can’t tempt you?’

‘Absolutely sure. Thanks anyway.’ This was not a moment for Pringles.

‘Well. OK. So. You’re here.’

‘Yes.

‘And you’ve been to the library?’

‘Yes.’

‘Ah. Then you’ll be aware that—’

‘It’s shut,’ Israel said, surprised to hear a slight hysterical edge to his voice. ‘The library. Is shut.’

‘Yeeees,’ she said, drawing out the ‘yes’ as though stretching a balloon. ‘Yes, Mr Armstrong. There’s been a wee change of plan.’

Linda paused for a crisp and rearranged herself more authoritatively in her padded black-leather-effect swivel-seat.

‘So. You probably want to know what’s happened?’

Israel raised an eyebrow.

‘Yes. Now. Let me explain. Since your appointment as the new Tumdrum and District branch librarian I’m afraid there’s been a little bit of a resource allocation. And the library—’

‘Has been shut.’ Israel tried to control the quavering in his voice.

‘Temporarily,’ said Linda, raising – almost wagging – a finger.

‘I see. So you no longer need my—’ began Israel.

‘No! No, no! No! Not at all, not at all!’ Linda licked some crisp crumbs from her lips. ‘No! You are essential, in fact, to the…planned resource allocation. We are absolutely delighted to have attracted someone of your calibre, Mr Armstrong. Delighted.’

‘But there’s no library for me to work in.’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Not exactly?’

‘That’s right. You see, it’s not a cutback in our funding, or anything like that we’re talking about – no, no, no! It’s more a re-targeting of our resources. Do you see?’

Well, to be honest, no, at that moment, Israel did not see.

‘No. Sorry. You’ve lost me.’

‘Well, yes, of course. You’ve had a long journey. London, was it?’

‘That’s right. Ten hours on the coach, eight hours on the—’

‘I’ve a sister in London,’ interrupted Linda.

‘Oh.’

‘Southfields? Would you know it at all?’

‘No. I’m afraid not.’

‘She’s a project manager. For – what are they called? Something beginning with D?’ She struggled for the answer. ‘The mobile phone mast people?’

‘No. Sorry. I haven’t come across them.’ Israel was not interested in Linda Wei’s sister who lived in Southfields and who worked for a mobile telephone mast company which began with D. ‘And getting back to the library?’

‘Yes. Erm. The library. Well, first of all I want to assure you that we at Tumdrum and District Council are absolutely committed to continuing the public’s free access to ideas and resources.’

‘To libraries.’

‘Yes. If you want to put it like that.’

‘Fine. But you’ve closed the actual library?’

‘Yes.’ And here she ballooned out the ‘yes’ as far as seemed possible without it actually popping and deflating and turning into a ‘no’, and she reached up high to a shelf behind her and took down a fat ring-bound report, which she handed to Israel, and gestured for him to read. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘This’ll explain.’

The report had a title: The Public Library: Democracy’s Resource. A Statement of Principles. Israel started flicking through. It was all output measures and graphs and tables – the usual sort of thing. He turned to the recommendations at the back.

‘In the opinion of the Information Resources Steering Committee,’ recited Linda Wei, who seemed to have memorised the key passages, ‘it is important for the borough to continue to provide information resources with a high service proposition combined with increased competitive flexibility. The overall aim should be to minimise cost per circulation, and to maximise number of patrons served.’

‘Right,’ said Israel. High service proposition? Increased competitive flexibility? ‘Which means?’

‘Do you have a current British driving licence, Mr Armstrong?’

‘Yes.’

‘You do! Grand. That’s grand!’ She clapped her hands together, delighted.

‘Because?’

‘Because, the position we are now able to offer you is really very exciting. Very, very exciting. If, admittedly, slightly different to what you may have been expecting.’

‘I see.’

‘It’s more…mobile.’

‘Mobile?’

‘Yes.’

‘You mean a mobile library?’

‘Exactly!’ said Linda Wei. ‘That’s it, that’s it.’ She was so delighted with Israel’s powers of deduction that she helped herself to a handful of Pringles. ‘You’re like Hercule Poirot!’ she said. ‘I knew we’d picked the right man for the job. Although these days we don’t call it a mobile library. We call it a mobile learning centre.’