"This is ridiculous," Emmy muttered, squinting down at the handwritten register, which was difficult to discern in the dim light. "This handwriting is atrocious."

The library was practically empty, with only a few final year students working amongst the tall bookshelves, and it was lit by beautifully carved gas sconces – a throwback to the Victorian period, when the library had been redesigned. The night had closed in quickly, so there was no light filtering in to illuminate the stained glass windows. Lee and Emmy were leaning over the librarian's desk, rifling through her register of books that had been recently taken out.

Emmy pushed the register towards Lee, who also squinted – the gas lamps only offered a dim, wavering light, and it made reading cramped handwriting like that in the register far more difficult to read than it should have done. His eyes scanned the lines of hastily inked words, searching... "There!" he whispered, pointing at one entry for two weeks beforehand, that must now have been overdue – there was no accompanying mark to indicate that it had been returned. "The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe. Taken out a couple of weeks ago by...by..." He frowned, moving nearer to the page. "By Marcus Merryhallow."

Emmy raised both of her eyebrows so high that if she'd had a fringe, they would have disappeared under it. "Marcus?" She scanned the page, and she pointed to an entry just below it. "Look! The Raven! That's the poem the killer's been quoting, and...and...Marcus took it out?" She shared a confused glance with Lee, but then her expression cleared. "I s'pose he's been on this case for a while. He might've figured out that this was the right poem."
A sigh escaped Lee's lips. "It would've been nice if he'd mentioned it." Emmy nodded in agreement, looking over the register once more. A frown started to crease Lee's forehead as his eyes darted over more and more Poe entries. "They're all Marcus," he said, sounding a little unsure. "All of them. I was hoping –"

"What, for one of them to be Giles?" Emmy raised an amused eyebrow at him. "I thought you told Edgar not to jump to conclusions?" She rolled her eyes as Lee sighed in an embarrassed sort of way.

"No, it's just...it would've given us a good lead, that's all." He brushed his hair back a little self-consciously, and he straightened up, putting a little distance between the two of them. "Though you can't seriously tell me it wouldn't have been great if it had been. This would've been concrete evidence that he's a real arsehole."

Emmy nodded, and she closed the register. "I know what you mean. But there's clearly nothing here." An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment. "Maybe we should try some analysis books?" She tugged her fingers through her ponytail, catching a couple of knots. "They might give us some food for thought?"

Lee smiled at her, bobbing a quick nod. The two of them glanced around the library, searching for the librarian – a wiry, middle-aged lady by the name of Mrs Cherrywell, who spent most of her time hunting down final year students who were supposed to be in her study sessions. Now the library neared closing time, she had disappeared off between the high shelves. The two of them fell completely silent, so all they could hear was the occasional whisper from their classmates, hidden behind the shelves; the turning of a page; the click of a high-heeled boot on parquet flooring...

Mrs Cherrywell came around the nearest bookcase, her high-heeled leather knee-highs clicking away as she made her way towards them with her arms full of books. She raised a terse eyebrow at the two of them as she set them down on her desk with a soft thump. "Did you find what you needed yet? Because the library is due to close in five minutes."

Emmy raised her eyebrows, and she glanced down at her watch. Time had slipped away from them – it was five to eight. Lee straightened up a couple of the books on Mrs Cherrywell's pile before looking up at her. "No, miss, we were wondering if there's any poetry analysis books that focus on Edgar Allan Poe? It's just he's come up in our investigation, and –"

"Yes, yes, let me check." She pulled her register over to her, glancing down it. Her severely cut hair fell in her eyes, and she brushed it behind her ears impatiently. "We only have one or two. Humdrum poetry isn't exactly something that the Academy likes to spend much money on." Her finger traced down the list of taken out books. "And yes, they've been taken out by Mr Merryhallow. They're both overdue, actually. I can try and hurry him up?"

Lee and Emmy exchanged a glance. "It's all right," said Lee, smiling at her. "We can go ask him if we can borrow one. He assigned us the investigation in the first place."

Mrs Cherrywell nodded. "Fine. But if you do get it, make sure to return it when you're done." She took a pen from the pot on her desk and scribbled in the margin, next to Marcus' entry. "Now, the library is about to close."

The two of them nodded, and they filed out of the library as she strode off to evict the other students. They exchanged a glance in the gloom of the poorly lit corridor, and without a word they headed off towards the Demonologie department.