We've come about the books...

Library workers are not all corduroys and twinsets. Some are hard - members of the overdue volumes squad. Patrick Weir spends a day with the library police

The library books are seven months overdue, and there is no sign that the borrower - a slow reader, perhaps - has any intention of returning them. The books' value, plus accumulated fines, totals pounds 78. Having confirmed his address on the electoral roll, Janet Bates knocks on his front door and prepares to request that he hand over the whodunnits along with the penalty charges. She has surprise very much on her side.

The door is opened by a middle-aged man. Janet introduces herself. The man looks wary. What is a debt recovery officer from Derbyshire County Council doing on his doorstep at 7.30 in the evening?

She explains her reason for calling, and he claims ignorance. Janet reads aloud a list of book titles and the date on which they were borrowed.

The man explains that he is a lorry driver and has been working abroad. His vehicle was stolen in Germany. He telephoned his mother and asked her to return his books for him (doubtless it was uppermost in his mind). Dear old Mum must have forgotten. Hang on. He'll just go and get them.

A couple of minutes later he hands over two paperbacks and three hardbacks. He riffles through his wallet for the fine. Janet thanks him, he apologises, and in less than five minutes, without acrimony, nearly pounds 80 has been recovered. A happy ending! Now it's back to the car, and on to the next customer on the list.

Two or three times a week Janet Bates drives around the county, bent on bringing miscreants to book. She makes her visits unaccompanied, and dismisses the notion that a lone 56-year-old woman doorstepping strangers and demanding money might be at any risk. "I'm a fairly self-confident person and not easily intimidated," she explains. "Being a woman makes no difference as we're all vulnerable. I rely on my instinct, and if a situation doesn't feel right, I back off."

A survey carried out in 1992 by the National Preservation Office in conjunction with the Home Office found that book stocks in 727 libraries across the United Kingdom were down by 4.4 per cent. This reflected an annual loss of more than pounds 150m - 50 per cent higher than previous estimates.

In Derbyshire, 7.75 million books are borrowed each year; and 70,000 overdue borrowings attract the maximum fine. More than 2,000 of these, worth nearly pounds 17,000, have been recovered in the past 18 months, thanks to a novel initiative.

The council currently spends pounds 1.25m on new books, while the cost of replacements runs at pounds 140,000.

A "Debtco" computer system logs outstanding items at the county's 56 libraries and 15 mobile libraries. By the time a book is two months overdue, the borrower will have been sent two reminders. If these have been ignored, he or she will then be informed that legal action can be taken to recover the debt. This is, however, a last resort, and before any county court proceedings are initiated, the debt recovery officer will pay a visit.

"The libraries are very understanding about fines, and will allow them to be paid in instalments," says Janet. "Essentially, they are just grateful to get the books back."

Notwithstanding this sympathetic approach, she is no pushover. She stands her ground. "In one instance a clearly agitated woman told me that her friend had borrowed her books and that they would be returned the next day. I asked her to phone this friend to tell her that I wanted them at once.

"She seemed rather surprised, but eventually agreed to make the call. The friend was at home and had the books. I then offered to drive the reader to her house - at which point surprise gave way to astonishment. She lived on the other side of Derby, but we still made the journey. I think they were both taken aback by my determination."

Most people are co-operative, although they can be abusive, but once she has put to them the importance of recovering the books, they will usually produce them.

When it comes to excuses for the non-return of books, Janet reckons she must have heard them all. "One young lad told me that he'd left a book by his bedside, and when he returned from the bathroom he discovered the cat busily shredding it. Another reader dozed off in the bath and woke up to see a paperback floating by his feet. Books are often returned looking warped and melted because they've been left too close to the fire."

Pass Your Driving Test First Time is regularly long overdue, and The Kama Sutra In Colour is another title that borrowers plainly like to keep by their bedside. Other hot favourites have less obvious appeal. One does worry, rather, about those readers who hang on to Your Cat's Mind, while you would think you might spot a mile off those selfish so-and-sos who hog the only copy of Wearable Quilts.

Where possible, security has been stepped up in libraries to combat thefts, but government cut-backs haven't helped. Only five of Derbyshire's libraries have anti-theft systems, whereby books trigger an alarm if they have not been processed through the loans desk. Without such systems, people can simply fill their carriers with Catherine Cookson, make good their escape with Joanna Trollope and never be heard of again.

When you consider that hardbacks cost upwards of pounds 10, it is clear that the funds simply are not available to replenish stocks at the rate they disappear, while at the same time investing in new stock.

Then, of course, the value of missing books goes beyond the financial. Many may be out of print and cannot be replaced.

Thus, efforts are concentrated on recovering overdue books, starting with the most recent outstanding borrowings, since those culprits are likely to be living at the same address. Notable successes include a borrower who had left the county with nearly pounds 100-worth of books and was traced to Dorset. Another malefactor was found in Lincoln. He very apologetically returned by train to Derby with books worth pounds 161.

A two-week library book amnesty initiated in Derbyshire four years ago highlighted just how acute is the problem of missing books. More than 11,600 books, valued at pounds 116,000, were handed into libraries. Some had been borrowed 20 years ago, and one librarian returned home to find a copy of the 1980 Transport Act deposited on her doorstep.

Janet has lost count of the number of books she has recovered, but anticipates having to knock on a few more doors yet. "We don't give up, and people sometimes don't appreciate how serious the matter is."

Janet challenges the stereotype of a library service staffed by demure ladies in twinsets, and the idea that overdue books are something of a joke. The term "library police" may sound like an oxymoron and raise a smile, as might the concept of a "sharp end" to library work, yet Janet's job would be too tough for most of us.

"I've never actually been threatened," she says, "but you can't always be sure what to expect when you call on someone. People are understandably cautious when I tell them who I am, and some need more persuading than others that I mean business."

She is currently negotiating with one young woman still in possession of six long-overdue books. The situation is complicated by the borrower having broken up with her boyfriend. When Janet called at the couple's home a fortnight ago, there was no reply. She returned a week later and still nobody answered. After numerous phone calls she eventually got to speak to the boyfriend. He said he knew nothing about any library books, that Janet must have the wrong number, and put down the phone.

Fortunately, the young woman's parents were also members of the local library, and Janet was able to trace her to their address. She explained that, after a huge row, her boyfriend had ordered her out of the house. He owned the property and had changed the locks. Some of her belongings, including the books, were still inside. The boyfriend refused to let her pick them up and she didn't know what to do.

The fine was duly paid, but in this case Janet doesn't hold out much hope for the books' return. "My hands are tied on this one," she says. "I'll certainly be going back to try and catch the boyfriend, but I'm not optimistic. Unless he brings the books back to the library himself, they'll go down as a loss. All I can hope for is a speedy reconciliation."