“I told you,” Hillary said indignantly, “I wasn’t hiding. I was doing important research for a lecture I’m giving on Oriental art.”
Nelson Stone rose from his chair. “Hillary, you know the museum is only open today for employees and school tours,” he said.
Hillary’s features suddenly hardened. “I didn’t think those rules applied to me,” she replied, tossing back her shiny platinum hair. Then, noticing Nancy, her face brightened. “Why, hello,” she said breezily. “You’re Nancy Drew, aren’t you? I know your father.”
Nancy smiled and gave a little wave. She was about to speak when Lieutenant Higgins rose from his seat. “We’re dealing with a very serious matter here, Miss Lane,” he began. “A valuable artifact has just been stolen.”
Nelson Stone stared at his alligator loafers. Nancy sensed the curator’s embarrassment as Lieutenant Higgins filled Hillary Lane in on the details.
For a long moment the heiress was speechless. Her expression gave no indication of what she was thinking. Finally she closed her eyes and uttered a pained sigh. “I thought I heard screaming when I was working in the library,” she said to Lieutenant Higgins. “But I imagined it was just another one of Mr. Stone’s emotional outbursts with his staff.”
Nelson Stone stood up. “How I run the museum is none of your business.”
Hillary rolled her eyes. “He should never have been made curator, in my opinion,” the heiress said to Higgins in a stage whisper. She turned to Stone and shot him a withering look.
Nelson Stone bristled and seemed about to make a retort when Lieutenant Higgins cut him short. “Okay, okay. You two can continue your private feud later,” the officer said. “You can go now, Miss Lane—but we’ll probably want to talk with you again.”
After Hillary Lane left Mr. Stone’s office, Nancy told Lieutenant Higgins why she had originally come to the museum. “Somebody sent Mr. Stone a threatening letter, and he phoned me this morning to start an investigation.” Nancy knew that Mr. Stone had wanted to hold back this information, but she thought it best to give the police as much help as possible. There was always a chance that the threatening letter could somehow be connected with the robbery.
Lieutenant Higgins flashed Mr. Stone an annoyed look, and the curator’s face reddened with embarrassment. “Why didn’t you call the police?” the officer asked him impatiently. “You’d better let me take a look at that letter,” he added, holding out his hand.
Mr. Stone handed over the letter. “I didn’t think it had anything to do with the robbery,” he mumbled.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Lieutenant Higgins said firmly. He skimmed the letter and shook his head. “This is ridiculous,” he said finally. “Someone says he wants to kill you because he doesn’t like the way you run the museum.” The officer folded the letter and tucked it in his pocket. “Sounds like someone has quite a grudge against you. We’ll look into it.”
“It’s all right for you to take that letter so lightly,” Mr. Stone said. “I’m the one who’s been threatened.”
Lieutenant Higgins snapped his notebook closed. “I’ve seen plenty of letters like this in my time,” he said. “But they very seldom amount to anything.” Then, moving toward the door, he added, “We’ll be in touch soon, Mr. Stone.” He nodded to Nancy and left.
Nancy turned to Mr. Stone. “I’m sorry I brought up the letter, but I had to tell the truth about why I was here. Besides, there may be a connection between the letter and the robbery.”
“I understand,” Mr. Stone replied with a sigh. “But do you see what I’m up against? I knew the police wouldn’t take that letter seriously. I’m really very frightened.”
“I know,” Nancy said. “Who do you think wrote it?”
Nelson frowned. “I just don’t know. It could have been anyone.”
“Well, for starters, Hillary Lane doesn’t seem to be a big fan of yours,” Nancy pointed out.
“No, she certainly isn’t,” Mr. Stone said darkly.
Nancy thought for a moment. “Where is the reference library?” she asked. “I didn’t see it when I was walking around the building.”
“It’s just down the hall,” Mr. Stone said with a wave of his hand. “Turn right when you leave my office.”
Nancy said goodbye to the curator and promised to speak with him soon. On her way out of the museum she checked out the library, but she found nothing more than a musty room lined with old books. Nancy noted that there was no exit to the outside from the stuffy library.
When Nancy joined George and Bess back at her car, her friends were eager to hear all the details. She was in the middle of telling them what had happened when she saw Nelson Stone leave the museum and walk quickly toward his vintage Cadillac.
Bess sipped her milk shake. “So, go on. What happened when Hillary Lane came in?”
Nancy was about to reply when she heard the sound of skidding wheels. She turned just in time to see Stone’s car spin out of control, across the driveway. The car flattened the rose bed and roared across the lawn. Finally it plowed into a line of privet hedges and came to a stop.
Nancy and her friends bolted across the parking lot. As they drew closer to Nelson Stone’s Cadillac, Nancy saw the curator slumped over the steering wheel.
3
Compromising Positions
“Mr. Stone!” Nancy called urgently, tugging open the car door. “Are you okay?”
Slowly the curator lifted his head from the steering wheel. “I think so,” he said, pressing his fingers to the reddening bruise on his forehead.
Nancy leaned forward and took hold of his arm. “Easy does it,” she said, helping the groggy man out of the car.
“What happened?” George asked.
“The brakes failed,” Mr. Stone said, still holding his head. “I put my foot down, but nothing happened. I couldn’t stop the car.”
“You’re lucky you weren’t going down a steep hill,” Bess told him. Then she glanced sadly at the demolished mermaid hedge.
Mr. Stone buried his face in his hands. “Someone’s out to kill me, I know it!”
“I’ll drive you home,” Nancy offered. “Unless you feel you need to see a doctor,” she added quickly.
Nelson Stone stretched his neck, as if checking for whiplash. “I think the only thing I’m suffering from right now is nerves. I just need to go home and rest.”
Nancy turned to Bess. “Would you mind helping Mr. Stone over to my car?” she asked. “I want to check out the Cadillac.”
