Nancy hesitated. Should she reveal her suspicions about who she really thought had made the threats on Stone’s life—Nelson Stone himself? She had a feeling his bravado was a cover-up. Beneath his words she sensed the curator was scared. There was no need to press him to come clean.
“Fine,” Nancy said finally. “I’ll just show myself out.” She left Stone’s office and made her way through the marble corridor. Passing the Tibetan section, she glanced at the still-empty case and wondered if the Golden Horse would ever be returned to the museum. Somehow, she felt that there was still a chance she could do something to help.
In the hallway she passed a young man pinning a typed notice to the bulletin board. Suddenly it fell to the floor and skidded to her feet. As Nancy bent down to pick up the notice, Stone’s distinctive signature caught her eye. But even more interesting, Nancy thought, was the fact that all the letter t’s had a distinctive break—just like the one in Stone’s threatening letter. Silently Nancy handed the notice back to the young man.
Nancy hurried out of the building and returned to her car. Now she was sure that the letter sent to Stone had been typed on his own office typewriter. It wasn’t absolute proof that Stone had typed it himself, of course. But she knew she was getting closer.
Half an hour later Nancy met George and Bess at Glad Rags in the mall. “Sorry I’m late,” she told George, who was standing outside the dressing room.
George gave a weary shrug. “You didn’t miss anything,” she told her. “Bess has spent the last hour trying to find the perfect dress for her cousin’s wedding.”
“Has she had any luck?” Nancy asked, checking her hair in the mirror.
“Not exactly.” George chuckled. “She’s looking for a dress that makes her look two sizes smaller.”
Just then the dressing room door swung open and Bess emerged, wearing a flowing, pink silk dress. “I love it!” she said, twirling around. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”
Nancy and George nodded their enthusiasm. It wasn’t long before the dress was wrapped and the girls were deciding where to have lunch.
“Let’s try the Black Swan for a change,” Nancy suggested. “We haven’t been there in ages.”
“Yuck.” Bess wrinkled her nose in distaste. “They serve those tiny, dried-up sandwiches.”
“I have a good reason,” Nancy told her with a grin. “I want to stake out the jewelry shop across from it.”
“Does this, by any chance, have anything to do with the Stone case?” George asked as they walked across the mall.
“It could,” Nancy said, spotting a window seat in the busy restaurant. Over lunch she filled her friends in on her meeting with Nelson Stone and the notice that had fallen in her path.
George slapped the table. “Stone must have written the letter!” she exclaimed.
“Wait a minute,” Bess said. “Margaret Parker could easily have used Stone’s typewriter. She probably types all of his letters.”
“That’s true,” Nancy agreed. “But Stone seems the most likely suspect. He did send the chocolates to himself, and I’ve already caught him in a lie about his whereabouts on Thursday night.”
Nancy glanced out the window at the Goldmine jewelry shop. A young couple was looking at wedding rings in the window. But she could see, through the glass door, that the shop didn’t seem very busy.
“You still haven’t told us why you’re keeping an eye on the Goldmine,” Bess reminded Nancy.
“It’s a long shot,” Nancy said. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure what I’ll find there.”
Just then she saw Justin Todd leave the store. Grabbing the check, she said, “This is my treat, okay? Come on, let’s pay a visit to the Goldmine.”
George and Bess exchanged confused looks as Nancy paid the bill.
“Listen,” Nancy said quickly as they crossed the mall, “I want you guys to chat with the salesman. Tell him you’re going to take a course in jewelry design—that you want to see how the stuff is made, or something. I want to get a look around their workshop.”
A bell jingled when the girls entered the Goldmine. Nancy quickly tucked Su-Lin’s necklace under her knit pullover. She didn’t want to draw extra attention to it.
“May I help you?” the blond salesman asked from behind a glass showcase. Nancy wondered if he might be Justin’s younger brother.
“Is it all right if we browse?” Nancy asked. “We’re trying to get ideas for a gift.”
“Of course,” he said, flashing a friendly smile. “There’s plenty to choose from. Everything you see here is made in our workshop.”
“Oh, is your workshop on the premises?” Nancy asked.
“That’s right,” the salesman replied. “Mr. Todd is a master craftsman. His designs are quite unique.”
“Oh, how interesting,” George gushed. “I’d like to be a jewelry designer myself someday. In fact, I’m starting a jewelry course next week,” she fibbed.
“Then you’ll probably have a special appreciation for Mr. Todd’s work,” the salesman said. He slid open the showcase and pulled out a tray of silver and enamel bracelets. “These are some of his latest designs.”
“Wow!” George said. “Are they baked in a kiln?”
The young man nodded.
Bess joined in. “That’s how they finish pottery, right?”
Nancy pointed to a pair of silver bookends. “How do you make those?” she asked.
“Oh, the swans,” the salesman said. “They’re one of my favorite pieces. Very unusual.” He took the bookends down from the shelf. “We melt the silver in a small electric furnace before pouring it into a mold,” he explained.
George sighed. “I’ve never seen anything like that. I’d love to know more about the process.”
“So would I,” Nancy added.
The salesman scratched his chin. “Well, Mr. Todd doesn’t usually allow people into the workshop,” he said slowly.
