Librarians’ conjures up thoughts of studious and watching, and buns of the hair variety; but not Joan Tomay and the randy librarians at the Ormond College Archives. But Joan was dead three months from a suicide, a buried statistic not looking for justice until her cousin, my Becky Tomay, read her diary which laid bare half her life, the old-style librarian half. But she wasn’t the only Joan in my investigative sights; there was Joan Viennes, a missing teenager on the verge of a sexless adulthood. My two Joans’ worlds crossed at the missing half of Joan Tomay’s diary, the intersection of sex and perversion with politics and money. Would the child survive? And could I keep the reputations of innocent people out of harm’s way and still find justice? And there was a lot of justice needing doing.
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