Was it a deranged fan seeking mementoes of a dead idol?

Or was it simply someone sly and secretive who liked to poke around in things?

Even if it turned out to be someone harmless, I didn’t want anyone entering the archive without supervision.

“Come on, Diesel. Let’s go see Melba.” Time to check on the status of her keys.

I locked the office door behind us. In the past I hadn’t done it while I was in the building, but perhaps I needed to change that.

Melba was on the phone when Diesel and I walked into her office. She smiled and held up a finger, by which I understood the call was almost done.

“Sure thing, hon,” Melba said. “I’ll let Peter know.” She hung up the phone. “Geneva Watterson. Sick again, poor thing.”

Geneva was one of the reference librarians, and she seemed to have a lot of health problems. I had pinch-hit for her a couple of times when the reference department was short-staffed. I made commiserating noises, but at the moment I had other things on my mind.

“What’s up with you two?” Melba smiled as Diesel hopped up on her desk.

I shook my head at the cat, but he ignored me. I sat down in the chair by Melba’s desk. “I think someone was poking around in the archive without my permission.”

“What?” Melba’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “That’s outrageous. Did they make a mess?”

I explained my reasoning, and Melba nodded. “I know how you like things a certain way, and if you say you left that inventory on your desk, then that’s where you left it.”

“Thanks,” I said with a grin. “Whoever it was got in with a key. There’s no sign of forced entry. I have my keys. Where is your set?”

“Right here in this drawer,” Melba said promptly. She pulled the drawer open. “I keep them in this tray.”

I leaned forward to look, and Melba hissed in annoyance. “If that don’t beat all. Someone got in my desk and took those keys.”

“Do you lock your desk at night?”

“I sure do.” Melba’s tone dared me to argue with her.

“What about during the day, if you leave your desk for a few minutes? Or for lunch, say?”

“When I go to lunch, I lock it,” Melba said. “But if I’m just going to run to the bathroom or to the lounge for coffee, I don’t usually take the time.”

“What about the keys to get into your office after hours? Could someone do that?” I was trying to think of all the possibilities.

Melba nodded. “All the department heads have a key to this office, in case of emergency. So one of them could have got into my office last night, I guess.”