Death Among The Stacks: The Body In The Law Library Page 5

  Willis pulls his car over to the security office parking lot and goes inside to get his permit. He approaches a desk and speaks to a D.C. Security Officer. “Hello, can you tell me who I can speak to about getting a blue permit card?”

  “You’re speaking to the right person. Can I have your name?”

  “Yes, Sergeant Ronnie Willis.”

  “Let me check. Did you say Willis, with two els or one?”

  “That’d be two.”

  “OK, I see your name right here. Looks like someone knew you were coming.”

  “Must be Carole Seton, I spoke to her days ago.”

  “No, it doesn’t look like she reserved your card – I can tell if it’s someone inside the agency by the way it’s coded. This one is coded from outside the GPO.”

  Who reserved the pass then? Willis thinks. “No bother, just glad to have a pass ready. Where do I need to sign?”

  “Just right here and the badge is all yours.”

  He hands Willis a blue ID badge.

  “Wear this visibly wherever you go in the GPO.”

  “Do I need to return the badge when I leave?”

  “Yes, please. There’s someone here 24/7. Just drop it by and anyone can take care of it for you.”

  Willis returned to his car and proceeded back to the security gate. Seeing his blue badge, the security guard waved him through.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Government Printing Office is huge. The whole area reminds him of the Walmart stores back home. He finds the lobby entrance and is able to park in a visitor’s parking section. As he enters the building, he is greeted by a U.S. Marshall who informs him that all his belongings are subject to a search.

  “But I’m a sworn peace officer.”

  “Sorry sir, this applies to everyone.”

  Willis empties his pockets and removes any metal he can find. He steps under the metal detector and it rings noisily. The Marshall waves him over and gives him a once over with the wand.

  “You’re ok sir; you may proceed.”

  “Can you tell me which way the personnel office is?”

  “Down that hall there. Second door on the right. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thanks.”

  *******

  Willis finds the personnel office and approaches the reception area.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I’m Sergeant Ronnie Willis. I’m here to see Carol Seton.”

  “Sergeant Willis?”

  Willis turns in the direction of the voice. “Sergeant Willis, I’m Carol Seton. You found me.”

  Carol Seton is a tall, dark woman. Her voice and manner are self-assured. She is one of those people who takes over a room when they enter it. She has a warm, firm handshake and a demeanor that made you feel right at home.

  “Hello, I’m Sergeant Willis.”

  Willis blurts out suddenly feeling silly for having said it.

  “Of course you are! I’ve been waiting here for you since 1:30. Did you get stuck in traffic?”

  “No; actually I had to get a blue pass—this card here.”

  “Oh that. Sorry for the inconvenience. I forgot to mention that when we spoke the other day. I should’ve had one ready for you when you came. Sorry for that also.”

  “No problem. There was one waiting for me when I arrived. Someone knew I was coming.”

  “Hmm, you’re more popular than you think. Come this way; let’s go down to my office where we can talk.”

  Willis follows Carole down through a maze of corridors and security checks until they reach her office.

  “Excuse me for saying this, but I’m surprised at all the security here. I mean, this is the GPO not the CIA. Why all the checks?”

  “Amen. All this stuff here belongs to the people, yet you need a security clearance to see most of it. Honey, you’ve got to realize this is Washington D.C. Everything changed on 9/11. Everything is a target for everyone. We’re worried about the terrorists blowing us up. We’re worried about old fashion espionage.”

  While Carole spoke, Willis couldn’t help but notice the diplomas from Harvard, Wharton and the U.S. Air Force on the wall.

  “Why should we have to secure government guides on soybeans for Pete’s sake? You got me, Sergeant. So what can I do for you?”

  “As you know, I’m here investigating the murder of one of your GPO library inspectors, Mr. Sean Gaylord.”

  “Yes, I remember our conversation. You mentioned that you’d like to ask us all some questions about Mr. Gaylord. So you really think he was murdered?”

  “Yes. I do, ma’am.”

  “Please detective, call me Carole or Mrs. Seton. Just not Ma’am.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Seton. Yes; we do think he was murdered from the evidence we have so far. I can’t reveal very much about the case except that we believe Mr. Gaylord was murdered. Can you think of any reason that someone would want to murder him?”

  “Lord, no. Honestly, I barely knew the man. I do know from his personnel file that he was a good worker and that he carried out his duties as requested and on time. It doesn’t look like we had any problems with him.”

  “Did he have any problems with any of the GPO staff?”

  “None that I’m aware of. What I know of Mr. Gaylord comes from the personnel file. How he behaved outside the workplace is another story.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Seton. I appreciate your help and candor. I’d like to see if I might talk to his supervisor, Mr. Gonzalves. Do you know if he is in his office?”

  “Sure. Let me get him on the phone right now.”

  Willis couldn’t shake the feeling that Mrs. Seton was holding something back and maybe not telling him everything she knew. Certainly she couldn’t know everything about everybody who worked at the GPO but there was something in her manner that wasn’t right.

  “Mr. Gonzalves will see you now. His office is down at the end of the corridor, second to the last office. He’s waiting for you.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Seton. It has been a pleasure speaking with you. Thank you for your time. He’s my card in case you remember anything that might be of help to us in this case.”

  Mrs. Seton stands up as Willis leaves the office; she doesn’t say a word.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Why, you must be Sergeant Willis. Art Gonzalves at your service. Please sit down.”

  “Thank you.”

  Mr. Art Gonzalves was a large man of about 40 years. Dark haired and tired looking, he was a curious combination of Vietnamese and Italian parents. Many years of sedentary government work combined with apparent loads of junk food had taken its toll on him. His desk was littered with empty Starbucks cups and he had a plethora of electronic gadgets at his disposal. Computers, phones, monitors, his desk resembled a NASA flight control center, albeit a lot more messy.

  “Sorry for the mess, Sergeant. I’ve just gotten some new phones for our inspectors and I’m putting them through their paces making sure they work as expected.”

  “I expect you know why I’m here. I’d like to ask you a few questions about the death, or murder, of one of your inspectors, Sean Gaylord.”

  “Yes, the whole Gaylord business – what a tragedy. Why, he was just here not four days ago sitting in that very seat. He was telling me about his plans to travel to your area and how he was going to evaluate the GPO library there.”

  “Do you remember anything odd about your last conversation? Anything that stood out?”

  “No, actually it all seemed so routine. Gaylord did these certification visits all the time. He visited GPO libraries several times a year. Nothing seemed unusual in this one.”

  Willis could see Gonzalves had a copy of Gaylord’s personnel file on his desk, amidst the coffee cups and computers. As he talks, he slowly pushes it off to the side as if something might jump out of it unexpectedly.

  “You see, it was Gaylord’s job to inspect and ultimately certify or not certify our GPO satellite libraries. The libraries had to
meet a certain criteria level before they were officially certified as GPO libraries. Gaylord’s job was to ensure that GPO libraries met those standards.”

  “Did you ever have cases where a library did not get certified?”

  “Why yes, we’ve had a few that missed the mark. Three this year.”

  “Were they, I mean the librarians, very upset with losing their certification?”

  “Oh yes. They value the prestige and bragging rights they get from being the chosen depository library in their area.”

  “Has anyone become, how can I say, visibly upset when they didn’t pass the certification?”

  “Yes, yes indeed. We’ve had people cry, sob and throw things at us. One library even threatened us with a lawsuit.”

  “A lawsuit?”

  “Yes, a lawsuit.”

  “Do you happen to know whether or not the library where Gaylord was murdered was going to be recertified?”

  “I don’t know. Gaylord was to make his inspection the day he was murdered. I can tell you though, from looking at his notes about the law library, they were very eager to make sure they were going to be recertified and they wanted to be sure that they had everything taken care of for Mr. Gaylord. They were planning to take him to dinner to go over any issues that might arise during his visit. I’ve got the phone message with the restaurant name and time on it. Looks pretty fancy doesn’t it?”

  “Sounds a bit like a conflict of interest going to dinner, doesn’t it?”

  “I suppose it does on the surface. This is actually pretty common for our inspectors to do. They encourage meetings with the library staff to explain what is expected of them and what they should be aiming for.”

  “How about sandwiches and chips in the conference room?”

  “We do that, too. Whatever the library wants—is what we say.”

  Willis feels he’s hit a nerve. It looks to him that this whole system and Mr. Gonzolves had grown too fond of the way things were. This sense of power and what they had to offer seemed to ooze from GPO staff.

  “I believe our inspectors are firmly above the law in all their actions.”

  Willis feels that things are getting personal with Mr. Gonzalves. He needs to get control of the interview back.

  “I’m sure you’re absolutely right, Mr. Gonzalves. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I’m sorry, but there are questions I just have to ask. This is a murder investigation and we don’t want leave any stone unturned. Can you tell me if Mr. Gaylord had any issues with his coworkers? Did he get along with everyone?”

  “Yes, I think he got along with most everyone. From what I could observe, he was pretty much a loner. He kept to himself. But he did socialize with our group and the other inspectors from time to time.”

  “You don’t remember any altercations with anyone? Any fights or strong words used?”

  “No, I can honestly say that I haven’t.”

  “OK, thank you Mr. Gonzalves. You have been very helpful.”

  “No problem. I hope I’ve been able to help. It was such a tragedy what happened to Gaylord. I can’t imagine the grief and misery his family must be enduring.”

  “I’d like to speak to Richard Masters if he’s in.”

  “Yes he is. I’ll see if he’s in his office.”

  Gonzalves clicks something on his computer to see if Masters is in.

  “Yes, I can see that he’s in his office. I’ll call him and let him know that you’re on your way. He’s just two doors down on the right.”

  “Thank you Mr. Gonzalves. I appreciate the time and your help.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Willis heads down the hallway towards Richard Master’s office. His door is closed and Willis knocks.

  “Come in; it’s open,” Masters responds.

  “Hello. You must be Richard Masters; I’m Sergeant Ronnie Willis, Denver PD. I’m here investigating the death of Sean Gaylord. I appreciate you taking the time to see me.”

  “Not at all, call me Rick. Please, sit down.”

  Rick Masters is graying, late-fiftyish man, with a pencil-thin mustache. He’s dressed sharply in a crisp button-downed shirt and tie. He has the look of someone who aspires to be in a position much higher than he is. He carries himself as if he’s in charge of things around the GPO. His desk and office are clean and tidy. Everything in its place. His desk has two computer monitors with screen savers of automobiles. His bookshelves are full of model cars of all types. The books in the cases didn’t show much wear at all. They look impressive but do not look used. Above his desk is a prominently framed Honorable Discharge from the Army.

  “Mr. Masters, I understand that you are a GPO inspector just like Mr. Gaylord was. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, we are, or were, on the same level although I’ve been here quite a bit longer. I’ve been doing this for over fifteen years now.”

  “Did you know Mr. Gaylord very well? Did you socialize with him at all?”

  “I knew Sean fairly well; we’ve been neighbors here in the office ever since he started. We’ve gone to training together and even travelled together. I wouldn’t say we were best friends, I mean, I’m not like Sean in most ways.”

  “In what ways exactly?”

  “Well, his personality was different from mine. I don’t think he appreciated the finer things in life, like fine automobiles, fine wine and the like. We could relate somewhat on the GPO level but outside of that we were different.”

  “Did you and Mr. Gaylord ever go out together at night?”

  “No. I mean we never went out alone, if that’s what you mean!”

  “That’s not what I meant. What did you mean, Mr. Masters?”

  Mr. Masters gets up and shut the door to his office, looking both ways down the hallway before closing the door. “I meant, we never socialized—just us two. Like I said, we were different sorts of people. He liked different things than I did. We attended dinners with other staff members and also while travelling to depository libraries. Never just us.”

  “You seem pretty adamant about the fact that you two never went out alone. What was so bad about Sean that you would feel so strongly about his company?”

  “Now, don’t get me wrong. Sean was a nice guy. We were different types of people, that’s all. I’m as opened minded as the next guy but I’m just not like Sean in certain ways.”

  “What ways, Mr. Masters?”

  “The word around the office, and don’t quote me on this, was that Sean was a bit, how can I say, light in the loafers, if you know what I mean. He and I never had any issues but I’ve heard stories that after a few drinks, he became another person.”

  “What sort of person?”

  “The sort of person who likes, well, likes the company of other guys.”

  “Did you ever witness any anger or violent behavior around Mr. Gaylord when he became this other type of person?”

  “No, no; I never did but I’ve heard stories from other employees that he got a bit too friendly with other male inspectors.”

  “Just other male inspectors?”

  “Well, actually he had a reputation with female inspectors too. I think he swung both ways, if you know what I mean. He liked to party was the word around here. He was a pretty hard worker but I think he liked to cut loose at any chance he had.”

  “So you’re not aware of any ‘incidents’ with any GPO employees relating to his behavior? Did he get into any trouble that you’re aware of?”

  “None that I’m aware of.”

  “Can you think of any reason why anyone would want Mr. Gaylord dead?”

  “No, no; none at all. Maybe he had some issues with management. Heaven knows they can create some problems. I just think that Sean didn’t have the smarts and experience to navigate the GPO waters and get ahead in a successful way. He sometimes didn’t seem like he was comfortable here. I’ve been here for a long time and I know what goes on around here. You’ve got to get to know people and know just how to work with them if you expe
ct to get ahead. It’s a skill that I’ve developed over the years and I think Sean could have learned quite a bit from me had he taken the time. It’s just a shame. Just a shame.”

  “Did Sean have a ‘significant other’ that you know of? Did he have a girlfriend?”

  “Not that I know for sure. He often said he’d never go ‘steady’ with anyone. He didn’t want the attachment for some reason. He’d get fired up just talking about it.”

  “Was anyone sweet on him that you knew? Male or Female?”

  “Not that I know of; man, that’s beyond my pay grade. He liked to party and have people around him but I never saw anyone that looked to be of that type.”

  “OK, Mr. Masters, I thank you for your time and your candid answers to my questions. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “I hope I’ve made a difference. I know quite a bit of what goes on around here so please don’t hesitate to call or email me if you have any more questions about the GPO and Sean. I’m your guy. Think of me as your GPO ‘mole’.”

  “Thank you Mr. Master, I will keep that in mind. One more question, I see that you were in the Army, looks like during the Vietnam War.”

  “Yes, I was. Proud to have served during that rough time for our country.”

  “Where were you stationed? Did you see much action?”

  “I was, well, ah, I was a Supply Officer. I spent my time state-side making sure that our troops got the supplies they needed to kill the Cong.”

  “Well I’m sure they all appreciated your work. Without you, they wouldn’t have been able to carry on. Thank you, Mr. Masters. I’ve got your number. If I have any questions, I’ll give you a call.”

  Willis headed back down the hall towards the lobby. He has a bit more information about Sean Gaylord and feels that the picture of this man was starting to come into focus.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After Willis makes a quick stop for lunch at McDonald’s, he drives to Baltimore in order to see Gaylord’s apartment. Upon removing the police tape that is blocking the entrance, Willis’s first thought of Gaylord’s home is that it looks like a showroom on a model home tour. It is very tastefully decorated, but has a cold feeling about it. Willis thinks it could’ve belonged to anyone. He can find no framed family pictures, nor any CD’s or DVD’s. The bookshelves contained beautifully embossed copies of the Classics from the Franklin Mint which look like nobody has ever read any of them. He is surprised to find no home computer; he must have only used the one at work. Gaylord’s desk has a pad of stationary and an expensive looking fountain pen. The stationary has red roses across the top of each page. It looks too feminine for Willis’s taste. Did this man write letters instead of e-mails? Willis wonders. If so, where was his correspondence kept? Did he write letters that were never sent? Willis also notices some commemorative stamps with pictures of Walt Whitman on them. I wonder if he reads poetry, Willis thinks.