“Thank you, Mr. Ray. Could you tell me when you first saw the two brooches?”
“The morning of the auction.”
“And you were sure these brooches were real antiques?” Nancy asked.
“Definitely. Fine-quality stones. Very valuable pieces.”
Nancy made a note in her small notebook. “Who hired you to do the appraisal?” she asked.
“I was paid by the school. Mr. Garrison said he wanted to hold the auction in a professional way, since the money would go to Pineview.”
“Of course. And that’s why you examined the jewels a second time?”
“No. I was simply to write down my earlier appraisal and seal it in the envelope. For drama, you know. But at the last minute I thought it would make a better show if I actually examined the jewels again, in front of everyone.”
“So no one knew you were going to do that?”
“It was my own idea.” Mr. Ray said. “And if I hadn’t reexamined the brooches, no one would ever have known about the theft. Some bidder would have spent a hundred thousand dollars on two lumps of paste, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation, and I’d be happily on my way home to dinner now.”
8
Where’s Kelly?
Nancy lay in bed a long time that night, just thinking. She had several suspects to think about now. There was Mrs. Sedgewick—not a very likely one, of course. Kate Boggs had a strong motive, and she had been in the gym when Nancy was locked inside the boiler room. Kelly Lewis wasn’t near the jewels as far as Nancy knew, but she still had to be considered, because of her resentment toward Janine. And now that Mr. Ray had said no one knew he was going to reexamine the jewels, Mr. Garrison and all the others involved in the auction were suspects, too.
Nancy didn’t know whom to suspect most. She did know that time was growing short. Whoever had switched the jewels wasn’t going to sit on them for very long. The brooches would have to be moved out of River Heights, the sooner the better. Nancy felt that somehow all the threads of the puzzle were there, but she still wasn’t close to tying them together.
• • •
Nancy woke up early the next morning, even though she hadn’t had much sleep. George had invited her to ride with the team to the Forsythe School game, and Nancy wanted to be there. She looked forward to keeping an eye on Coach Boggs and Kelly Lewis. She was also concerned about how well Janine was holding up.
She arrived at the school at nine-thirty. George would be there by ten o’clock, and Bess was coming with her. Nancy wanted to do a little sleuthing before her friends arrived.
She walked over to Braithwaite Hall, where many of the classrooms were located. Fortunately, the man she was looking for was already there.
“Mr. Morse, may I speak with you a minute?”
Morse looked up from the worktable in his art classroom. “Oh, yes. You’re Ms. Drew. I remember you well.”
Nancy smiled. The lovable and charming old teacher was back. But she hadn’t come for chitchat. This time she meant to ask questions.
“I’m glad you’re looking better today, Mr. Morse,” she said.
“Thank you. But when did I look so bad?”
“When I saw you coming out of Mr. Garrison’s office yesterday.”
The expression on the old man’s face went sour in a flash. He began puttering around his worktable. The table was cluttered with all kinds of art materials—paints and sculpting tools—as well as with student projects.
“I hope nothing is seriously wrong,” Nancy continued. “If there is, maybe I can help.”
“Help? You aren’t on the board of trustees by any chance, are you, young lady?”
“I’m afraid not. When I was outside Mr. Garrison’s office, I heard you arguing. In fact, it sounded as if you were, well, threatening him.”
The teacher’s eyes opened wide. “Me threaten Russell Garrison!” he exclaimed. “Hardly, my dear. He was threatening me!”
“In what way?”
“With my life! Or practically, that is. He wants to kick me out of this place.”
“He did say he thought you should retire,” Nancy admitted.
Jonathan Morse looked at her for a moment. “Ms. Drew,” he said. “Every headmaster since I’ve been here has told me that I would remain a part of Pineview for as long as I am able to teach. Ask any of my students right now, today, if I can still teach.”
“I understand, but—” Nancy began.
“Then Russell Garrison came along,” the teacher interrupted. “Ever since he’s been in charge I’ve been under the gun. I know he’s telling the board I’m too old. But it’s not true! I’m just as capable as I always was. Plus, I have experience!”
Nancy cleared her throat. “Mr. Morse, do you think Mr. Garrison has something personal against you?”
The teacher shut his mouth and stared at her. Then he looked away. “Certainly not.” He fumbled with his art supplies. “And besides, I shouldn’t discuss these matters.”
“I’m only trying to help.”
“That’s very kind of you, young lady. But everything’s taken care of. Um, by the way, are you going to the soccer game?”
“Why, yes, I am.”
