DEATH ON THE BOOKS
Face ashen and feathered by tendrils of bleached blonde hair, she was trembling with exertion as she ran from the building toward me. I was frantically juggling a rain-jacket, keys, a handbag and my hastily packed lunch. And you might find this surprising, but I wasn’t initially shocked when Harriet breathlessly announced that there was a body in the library.
Behind Harriet, the wide door of Bennelong District Library closed in a silent and unhurried arc. Harriet clutched at my arm, causing the lentil salad to tip on the ground, legumes settling like tiny islands in a muddy puddle. Ideally, they should have landed on concrete, but the pavers hadn’t turned up, leaving the approach to the building rather muddy and decidedly non-library like. I took a deep breath, forced
