SHE SPOKE VOLUMES

By ELIZABETH GLEICK

It is a beat that should be relatively serene, even awe inspiring. But for the past four years, when she patrolled the 530 miles of book-lined corridors at the Library of Congress in Washington, library police detective Deborah Maceda grew increasingly disturbed by the evidence of crime run amuck. She found razor blades--perhaps for slicing pages out of books--in books and under shelves. During one eight-day period alone, she says, she discovered 33 mutilated books, including a rare 18th century anatomy folio. Other volumes had simply vanished.

In the spring of 1992, Maceda began reporting the loss and damage. She peppered her superiors with memos, suggested ways to improve security and raised concerns about the way the library police were handling crime scenes. Instructed to desist, she wrote more memos. She also sought help up the line, writing a letter to Senator Connie Mack, chairman of the appropriations subcommittee that oversees the library. Acknowledges Maceda, who has worked for the library's Protective Services Office for six years and has been in law enforcement since 1979: "I made a pain in the ass of myself."

Thomas M. Jones, the head of Protective Services, signed off on disciplinary proceedings against Maceda, and she was moved to a nonpolice job in the law library. But in the end, her persistence was rewarded. Although she was unaware of it, an agreement to call in the U.S. Attorney's office and the FBI had been violated. In August, after Librarian of Congress James J. Billington received a harsh letter from Mack, he initiated an in-house investigation, acknowledging that there may have been security lapses at the country's largest and most valuable collection of books and documents. He also suspended the termination proceedings against Maceda. And last Friday, he announced a reorganization among the library's key administrators, including the top security manager, who was moved to a nonsupervisory position. Though Billington insists the changes are streamlining measures, a library staff member says, "It's a happy coincidence. It will probably make everyone more accountable on the security side."

Still, the library is far from in the clear. Along with internal investigations of police procedures, other probes under way include one conducted by the FBI, Secret Service and U.S. Postal Service into the disappearance of Library of Congress travel- and expense-reimbursement checks. The General Accounting Office is conducting a widespread inquiry into the library's financial, human resources and collection management. The U.S. Attorney's office is also conducting a criminal investigation into charges of theft at the library. According to a confidential report issued by afscme local 2477, the union representing some library workers, the Library of Congress is "an agency that can only be described as out of control." Says a congressional staff member familiar with the problems: "In terms of higher profile issues like the National Digital Library...and library exhibitions, James Billington has had tremendous success...But he is the captain of that ship, and the captain is ultimately responsible. Questions have been raised in every aspect of management. How could that have escaped his attention?" Billington insists that he is serious about cleaning up the stacks. "The aim has always been and remains and is intensified--we're not going to accept any loss in the national collection," he says.

The Library of Congress, which houses 108 million items, completed 593,000 research assignments for Congress last year and welcomed nearly 850,000 visitors, has in fact long been plagued by security problems. Just since 1991, its losses from damage and mutilation amount to nearly $1.8 million, and altogether some 300,000 volumes are missing. In 1992, after a spate of arrests, including that of a man who was caught leaving the library with two rare maps under his sweater, Billington beefed up security. Despite protests, he limited access to the stacks, and installed video cameras and theft-detection gates at the exits. Most important, the library agreed that it would notify both the U.S. Attorney's office and the FBI of any "property offenses."

It remains unclear why Maceda's reports did not trigger such notification, though some employees suggest that, after the problems in 1992, further security breaches might have been considered too embarrassing for the library. Billington still says he is not convinced the damage is as extensive as some believe. Then, too, some managers continue to insist that Maceda has blown the matter out of proportion, that she has a history of problems on the job, and a few have told her that they suspect she may have been involved in some of the book mutilations. Maceda is unfazed by these accusations, offering to take a lie-detector test and pointing out that most of the complaints about her conduct came after she began making waves. "Most of us are here because we love the books and have a lot of respect for them," she says. But faced with the prospect of losing her job as a detective, she adds, "I wouldn't recommend whistle blowing to anyone."

--Reported by Melissa August and Elaine Shannon/Washington