Duffy raised an eyebrow. “That’s what the last chief librarian said. He didn’t like Fatso’s and told them he was going to do a compulsory sponsorship buyback.”

“How did he get on?”

“The engine was still running when they found his car on the Lambourn Downs. His wallet and cell phone were on the passenger seat. Under the wiper there was a discount voucher from Fatso’s for kids to eat free, but that might have been a coincidence. Of the chief librarian, no trace. I should forget that idea. If you want something controversial to do on your first week out, then announce biometric data for library cards. Identity theft is a big issue with people eager to take out more than six books at one time.”

“How about we up it to seven?”

Duffy gave a polite cough. Clearly I had a lot to learn about libraries.

An assistant of not more than twenty and dressed in a bottle green suit entered the room and walked nervously up to the desk. “This is Geraldine,” said Duffy, “the assistant’s assistant to the assistant personal assistant of my own personal assistant’s assistant.”

“Hello, Geraldine.”

“Hello, Chief Librarian,” she said nervously. “Have you really killed seven people?”

“I tend to try to dwell on the people I’ve saved,” I replied.

“Oh,” she said, obviously intrigued by the notion of an ex–Literary Detective running the library service. “Of course.”

“How many assistants do I have?” I asked, turning back to Duffy.

“Including me, three.”

“Three? Given Geraldine’s job title? How is that possible?

“They have multiple jobs. Geraldine, apart from being the assistant’s assistant to the assistant personal assistant of my own personal assistant’s assistant, is also my own personal assistant’s assistant’s assistant.”

“No,” said Geraldine, “that’s Lucy. I’m not only your assistant’s assistant’s subassistant but also the assistant to the assistant to your personal assistant’s assistant.”

“Wait,” I said, thinking hard, “that must make you your own assistant.”

“Yes. I had to fire myself yesterday. Luckily, I was also above the assistant who fired me, so I could reinstate myself. Will there be anything else, Chief Librarian?”

There wasn’t, so she bobbed politely and withdrew. I looked at the schedule she had deposited on my desk, packed full of meetings, budgetary discussions, two staff disciplinary hearings and several forums with Swindon’s readers’ groups.

“How does the heavy schedule differ from this one?” “The same—only it’s on blue paper and instead of lunch you get two more meetings: The first is a pep talk to the many frustrated citizens who weren’t selected last year to train as librarians and will have to console themselves with mundane careers as doctors, lawyers and lion tamers.”

“And the second meeting?”