Nelson Stone buried his face in his hands and shuddered. “Please don’t call the police. Think of all the publicity. This will ruin me. I can’t face the police right now. Can we wait awhile?”
Nancy put down the receiver. “I know you’re upset, Mr. Stone, but there’s a chance the police will find the Golden Horse,” she said. “The faster we move on this, the better.”
“Will we have to tell them I left the case unlocked?” the curator asked, wringing his hands. “The Museum Society could have me fired.”
“We’ll have to tell the police the truth,” Nancy said. “I’m sorry, but we have no choice.”
Despite Stone’s pleading, Nancy finally put a call through to the police. She answered a few initial questions and was told that a police car was on its way. After hanging up, she did her best to console the curator, who still seemed totally distraught.
A few minutes later Nancy hurried out the front door and ran down the wide steps of the museum. Her friends were talking to the gardener and a young woman by the hedge. “George! Bess!” Nancy called. “Come quick!”
George sprinted toward Nancy, with Bess just behind her. “What’s up?” George asked.
Nancy filled her friends in on the situation. “The museum’s most valuable piece has just been stolen.”
At that moment the gardener approached with the young woman. He introduced himself to Nancy as Lee Tung and said his daughter’s name was Su-Lin.
“Did you say something’s been stolen from the museum?” Su-Lin asked, pushing back a lock of glossy jet-black hair. Su-Lin appeared to be about twenty years old. She was attractively dressed in black leggings, a long pink shirt, and a lavender brocade vest. A strand of amethyst beads hung from her neck.
“It just happened,” Nancy explained. “Someone stole the Golden Horse.”
The gardener and his daughter gasped.
“Did any of you see anyone leave the building?” Nancy asked.
They all stared blankly at her.
“No,” Bess replied. “We were watching Mr. Tung shape the hedge, but I don’t think anyone went by.”
“Wait a minute,” George said, frowning. “A car drove off a few minutes ago.”
“What kind of car?” Nancy asked quickly.
George bit her lip. “I can’t remember. I didn’t pay much attention to it.”
“I didn’t see any car,” Bess said with a shrug. “Sorry.”
The gardener shook his head sadly. “What a shame.”
“This is terrible!” Su-Lin blurted. “The Golden Horse is the museum’s greatest treasure. It’s irreplaceable. Are the police on their way?”
As she spoke a siren sounded, and everyone looked toward the gate. A police car was just entering the grounds, swerving past the bus filled with schoolchildren on its way out.
Nancy ran over to the car as it pulled to a halt at the museum’s front entrance and two policemen got out. She quickly introduced herself and explained that she was the person who had phoned.
“I’m Lieutenant Higgins,” said the taller officer. He had thinning gray hair and piercing blue eyes magnified by thick, rimless glasses. “And this is Officer Jenkins,” he added with a nod toward the younger officer as they mounted the front steps of the museum. Entering the building, Lieutenant Higgins asked Nancy, “Isn’t there a security guy here?”
Nancy pointed across the hallway to the silver-haired security guard slumped across the desk. In the quiet hallway they could hear his gentle snores.
“Get a load of that,” Officer Jenkins remarked.
Lieutenant Higgins strode over to the sleeping guard and shook him gruffly. “Wake up, old-timer,” he said.
The guard sat up and blinked. “What, what? The museum is closed,” he muttered.
“There’s been a robbery,” Lieutenant Higgins told him. “Did you see anyone leave the building?”
The security guard rubbed the sleep from his eyes and fumbled for the visitors’ book.
The lieutenant waved his hand. “Forget it,” he snapped. “You won’t find the crook’s name in there.” He turned to Nancy and asked her to take them to the curator’s office.
As they passed the Tibetan section, Nancy pointed out the empty display case. “That’s where the Golden Horse was kept.”
“And where were you at the time of the robbery?” Higgins asked Nancy.
“With Mr. Stone, in his office,” she explained as the officers moved over to the display case and inspected it closely.
“Hey, look,” Officer Jenkins said. “The glass isn’t even broken.”
“I can explain that,” Nancy said slowly. “Mr. Stone had just unlocked the case to show me the artifact. But then he got distracted. I guess he forgot to lock the case and reactivate the burglar alarm.”
The officers exchanged glances.
Officer Jenkins shook his head. “It’s amazing how careless some people can be.”
Nancy led the officers to Nelson Stone’s office, where they found the curator pacing the floor. Nancy was about to take a seat when the lieutenant asked her to leave. He obviously wanted to question Stone alone.
Nancy took a quick tour of the ground floor. She soon discovered that both the back and side entrances to the museum were closed off due to building alterations. Sheets of plywood had been nailed across the doors with large notices reading Exit Closed During Renovation.
