“You see,” Hillary went on, “the Golden Horses were split up and smuggled out of Tibet when the Chinese invaded the country in 1950.” Hillary stepped forward and stroked the statue, as if it were a pet. “I bought this one in Hong Kong a few years ago. I would love to have the second one. But when the other came up for auction last month, Nelson Stone outbid me. I just couldn’t get my hands on a million in cash,” she added with a shrug.
“How interesting,” Nancy said, thinking how angry Hillary must have been to lose the other Golden Horse to Stone.
Several minutes later Hillary completed the tour of her private museum. “I’d love to ask you to stay for lunch, Nancy,” she said, relocking the oak doors, “but the cook is off today.”
“Thank you,” Nancy said as they moved down the carpeted hallway. “I really should be on my way.”
“We’ll do it another time,” Hillary said. They neared the study, and the heiress suddenly snapped her fingers. “Oh, I nearly forgot all about your tickets.”
Nancy followed Hillary into the study and took a seat in a brown leather chair as Hillary rummaged through a small antique desk. “Ah, here they are,” she said, handing Nancy two yellow tickets. Nancy gave her two twenty-dollar bills, and Hillary excused herself to get change. But before leaving the room, she picked up the box of Gold Flag chocolates and offered them to Nancy. “Have a treat while you wait,” she said with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, thanks,” Nancy said, taking the box from Hillary. As the heiress left the room, Nancy picked out a caramel. Hillary Lane was definitely more generous with her chocolates than Nelson Stone was.
A few minutes later the heiress returned to the study with a red lizard purse. “Here’s your change, Nancy,” she said, handing over a ten-dollar bill.
Nancy stared at the red purse.
“Is something wrong?” Hillary asked, arching her eyebrows.
Nancy blinked. “Oh, no,” she said. “Nothing at all.”
Nancy was still thinking about the red purse as she left Hillary Lane’s house. Was it the same purse she’d seen in Margaret Parker’s office just before the robbery? It was the first thing she told George about when they met for lunch at the country club.
“Boy!” George said, shaking her head. Her hair was still damp from a shower. “Hillary’s looking more suspicious by the minute.” George bit into her grilled cheese sandwich and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “Do you think she’s telling the truth about there being two Golden Horses?”
“We can easily check on that,” Nancy said. She took a bite of a french fry and told George more about her visit with the heiress. Then, pouring ketchup on her hamburger, Nancy asked, “So, how did the tennis game go this morning?”
“Not too well,” George confessed, making a face. “I lost in straight sets. I guess I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”
“Up late watching that tennis tournament on TV?” Nancy teased.
George shook her head. “No, the tournament’s on tonight at eight.” She grinned. “I bet Bess is miffed that ‘Wheel of Chance,’ that game show she watches every week, will be preempted. Actually, I was lying awake thinking about the robbery. I’ve been racking my brain, trying to remember that car I saw leaving the museum.”
“Don’t worry,” Nancy told her friend. “When you stop trying, you’ll remember.”
“I hope so,” George said.
After lunch Nancy stopped at a pay phone and punched in Nelson Stone’s number.
“Nelson Stone’s office,” a woman answered.
Nancy recognized Margaret Parker’s throaty voice. “May I speak with him, please?” she asked. “This is Nancy Drew calling.”
“Mr. Stone is at lunch,” Margaret replied crisply. “Would you care to leave a message?”
Nancy made a quick decision not to ask Margaret any questions about the Golden Horse. “No, thanks,” she replied. “Is Su-Lin there, by any chance?”
“Ms. Tung is only in on weekends,” the assistant curator said.
“Okay,” Nancy said. “I’ll call back later.”
After getting Su-Lin’s home phone number from directory assistance, Nancy punched in the second call. The phone rang for a long time. Just as Nancy was about to hang up, Su-Lin answered. Her voice sounded teary, as if she’d been crying.
“Su-Lin, it’s Nancy Drew. Are you all right?”
“Not really,” Su-Lin said, sniffling. “I just came home from school and learned that my father lost his job.”
“That’s awful,” Nancy said. “He’s such a wonderful gardener.”
Su-Lin sighed. “Working on the Lane estate was my father’s whole life. He’s never even worked anywhere else in this country.”
“But why was he fired?” Nancy asked.
Su-Lin cleared her throat. “I think Mr. Stone got upset because something was missing in the toolshed,” she said. “It sounds so ridiculous. But I guess Mr. Stone lost his temper.”
Nancy wondered why a curator would be so concerned about a missing gardening tool.
“Do you think your father would mind if I came over and talked to him?” Nancy asked. Any unusual happening at the museum seemed worth investigating. And maybe there was something she could do to help.
“Oh, Nancy. That’s so nice of you,” Su-Lin replied. “I don’t know how to comfort my father. It might cheer him up a bit to have a guest.” She gave Nancy her address, and Nancy promised to come right over.
Nancy dropped George off at her house. Then she continued on to the Tungs’ place, a small garden apartment in the downtown section of Clinton Park. Su-Lin waved through an open window as Nancy drove up.
“Hi,” Nancy called, getting out of the car.
“Come on in,” Su-Lin said. “My father’s in the living room. I’ll make us all a pot of tea.”
“Sounds great,” Nancy said, following Su-Lin into the neatly furnished apartment. Lee Tung was sitting in a wicker armchair, gazing out the window.
