North Star

Chapter 14: Murder at Midnight

DING-DONG. 

The metallic sound of the grandfather clock striking twelve rings through the library.

I can’t believe it’s already midnight. Guess it’s time to head back to my room at Marie-Adélaïde House. Heloise ought to be back home from partying now.

I’ve been curled up in an armchair in the corner, wrapped up in the brilliant pages of an old manuscript for hours now, so absorbed in my reading that I barely noticed the time passing. 

Handling antiquarian books takes a lot of concentration - you have to be so careful not to accidentally crease or damage any of the pages - and I often find that I’m oblivious to absolutely everything going on around me. Someone could be doing cartwheels right in front of me and I probably wouldn’t notice.

Yawning, I gather up my things - my book bag, my wallet, and my phone - and I take a quick look around the Rare and Rare and Fragile section, checking that I’m leaving everything in its correct place just as I found it. There’s a reason this part of the library is sectioned off from the rest of the library behind a four hundred year old gate - most of the items here are priceless. Mirabelle has been doing me a huge favour by giving me access to it, and I’m determined not to break her trust.

Satisfied that everything is in order, I close the black wrought iron gate behind me, before fishing the antique golden gate key out of my jacket pocket and locking it behind me. 

CHA-c***k.

The sharp sound of the ancient metal bolt clicking into place echoes through the library, highlighting the building’s emptiness at this late hour.

I’m probably the only one here right now. Well, apart from Mirabelle, that is.

The library closes at midnight, and opens again at seven o’clock in the morning. I was here until midnight a few nights ago, and I actually ended up helping Mirabelle with the locking up, which she does at quarter past twelve - just routine tasks like switching off the lights, locking all entrances, setting the security alarm, stuff like that. I like having the chance to help her out and repay her for the big favour she’s doing me.

But strangely enough, the reception desk at the library’s entrance is empty when I arrive at the front. 

Mirabelle is nowhere to be seen.

Weird. 

Usually when she leaves the reception desk she puts up a little sign, reading “GONE FOR FIVE MINUTES - I’LL BE BACK SOON” - followed by a number to ring if the desk is left unattended for too long. But there’s no sign in sight, and no Mirabelle either. 

Maybe she started the lock up early, without me.

She did seem a bit distracted earlier - not as friendly as usual. Maybe it’s for the best if I don’t go looking for her to help with the lock up.

And so I place the key on the desk, safely hidden out of view of any passersby - and as I do so, I notice something small and circular and silver lying on the floor, glinting in the light, about the size of a penny. It’s clearly not a coin though. I reach for it, trying to remember if Mirabelle was wearing earrings earlier. The small silver disk is engraved with a tiny symbol - a stylised star with five points, one point longer than the rest, just discernible on the still-warm metal. 

Unsure what to do with it, I place it next to the key on Mirabelle’s reception desk.

She’ll find it later, I guess.

The front door of the library is slightly ajar, letting in some of the cool night air. It’s a bit unusual, but makes sense if she left the building for a few minutes. Maybe she needed to make a phone call, and was trying to be respectful of the library’s “no electronics” policy, so she went outside to do it.

I pull my jacket tighter around me as I leave the library and step out into the night. It’s a new moon, and the grounds are blanketed in midnight silence and darkness, broken only by the golden aura of a lamplight at the start of the path that descends down into the heart of campus. The path is well lit, and I’ve walked it on my own late at night a handful of times now… but something about tonight feels different. It’s like there’s something in the air. A chill, but nothing to do with temperature. A strange ominous mood, unnerving and daunting, hanging on the edge of reality, running a single cold spidery finger down my spine. 

A shiver runs through me, and I feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. 

I’m being watched. I’m sure of it.

I scan my surroundings, struggling to discern anything or anyone in the gloom and shadows.

The only car in the parking lot is Mirabelle’s silver Volkswagen Golf, empty by the looks of it. The library grounds are lined with a thick stand of oak and pine trees, and for a moment I see a flash of something - or someone - ghostly pale caught in the wan starlight, a glimpse of silvery-white blonde hair and piercing glacial blue eyes staring out from the shadows. I squint and strain to see in the dark, unsure if it’s just a trick of the light.

Then I see a quick and unmistakable movement as the figure retreats back into the shadows, disappearing into the forest. 

Oh hell no. There’s definitely someone out there hiding in the trees… and I’m just standing out here all alone in the dark.

Something in me, my inner voice, is screaming “CALL THE POLICE! CALL CAMPUS SECURITY! CALL ANYONE!” but I fight back the fear and take a deep breath in. 

I could go back inside the safe confines of the library, wait for Mirabelle to come back to her desk, maybe ask her for a lift to Marie-Adélaïde House once she’s finished the lock up. But she seemed a little off tonight, not in a great mood… so the timing is really awkward. 

No, there’s no need to bother her with this. I’m making a big deal about nothing. It was probably just some drunk student wandering around on campus after a party. Maybe they went into the bushes to throw up after drinking too much, or they got lost, or they were doing something x-rated with someone else out there, and that’s why they hid from me… they didn’t want to be seen.

There’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of.

And so I gather my courage, sling my book back over my shoulder, and I walk calmly and deliberately towards the start of the stone steps that descend down to mid campus. 

I’m hyper aware of the trees lining the path, and the darkness beyond, but I keep my eyes fixed on the steps as I go, illuminated in the golden lamplight. 

After about twenty seconds there’s a loud snapping sound from the trees to my left, just a few feet from the path. It’s the unmistakable sound of someone - or something - standing on a fallen branch.

In that instant my courage fails me. I bolt, racing down the stone steps as fast as my feet will carry me - all the while, with one urgent command echoing over and over through my mind.

RUN. RUN. RUN.