The four visitors raised an eyebrow.
Tommy played coy. "You don't know what happened to her?"
"No. She was here earlier in the week. I believe she worked late one night. Then she never came in the next day. Or the next. We've called several times, even had someone go to her house to check on her."
"And?"
"Never answered," Wilbur said. "And her house was empty. It's like she just up and vanished." A somber tone overshadowed his boyish joy. "The police said they don't think any sort of crime occurred. Maybe she'd just gotten tired of working in the vault and needed a mental health day or two. Can't say I blame her. Every year when we do inventory drives me a little bonkers too. She'll turn up soon."
Tommy decided to move the conversation to the reason they were there.
"So you said that she was working on something in the vault? Like a bank vault?"
Wilbur chuckled. "No, nothing like that. We just call our stockroom the vault because it's down in the basement. It feels like being stuck in a vault when we're down there. Plus the entire room is encased in concrete to keep it fireproof."
He turned a corner and led the way down a wooden staircase. At the bottom, a short corridor ended at a pair of metal doors. The one on the left was open.
Wilbur stepped inside and put both hands out wide. "This is our vault," he said. "I have to admit, I'm so excited to be a part of one of your pursuits, Tommy. All the wild adventures you've been on… It's all just so exciting."
Sean leaned over to Adriana and whispered in her ear. "Maybe Tommy should have booked a room for two tonight."
She playfully swatted his shoulder as if to chastise him, but couldn't fight off a tiny snort.
"Well, Wilbur, it's not all fun and games out there." Tommy's voice took on an overly masculine tone. "But it has its moments."
Sean had heard enough. "Yeah, so if I may cut in. We've had a long trip and really need to get some rest. So if it's not too much trouble, is it possible for us to have a look around and see if we can find anything that might help us… I don't know… find your missing curator?"
An uncomfortable pause took over the room for five seconds. Wilbur turned to Tommy. "Is he always this rude?" he asked in a theatrical whisper.
"You have no idea."
"Yes, Sean," Wilbur said. "Feel free to look around. All I ask is you don't break anything." He directed the last sentence at Sean and Reece.
"Of course, Wilbur."
"If I may, Tommy. What is it exactly that you're looking for?"
Tommy decided to let him in on a piece of the story. "There's a document that was here. It's from around the turn of the twentieth century."
"Document? Well, if it's something like that you're interested in finding, you'd best start with the files over there." He pointed at the big filing cabinets next to a wooden work table. "If we have anything like that in here, it would be in that cabinet. Do you happen to know who wrote this document?"
"Mathews. R.H. Mathews."
Wilbur put a finger to his lips as if it would help his concentration, but he couldn't come up with a connection. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that name. Was he a writer, a politician perhaps?"
"No. He was an anthropologist at the end of his career. He found something of interest and wrote it down in a message that we believe ended up here."
"Really?" Wilbur said, clearly surprised. "What makes you think it's here?"
Tommy had backed himself into a corner, and now he couldn't think fast enough to figure a way out.
"Well, you see…" he stammered.
"We searched sales records and other inventory documents that led us to believe it had been stored here, possibly hidden away in a piece of furniture. If one of the people who work here found that document, it could be in one of your files." Sean explained, bailing his friend out of a pickle.
"Right," Tommy agreed. "So if we can just get a look at what you've got, that would be a big help."
The director eyed the two for a moment. "How fascinating," he exclaimed. "All this time I've had a secret document right under my nose and had no idea. May I ask to what this paper pertains?"
Tommy went with full disclosure in his response. "We have reason to believe it contains the location to an ancient Aborigine treasure. If we were to find an artifact of that caliber, you can imagine what it would mean for the tribes… as well as this museum."
The visitors saw the man's eyes light up like a child on Christmas morning. "Incredible. Well, please, take a look around. Take all the time you need. And if you need my help, don't hesitate to say so." He pointed at the filing cabinets. "You'll find everything in alphabetical order. I'll just be over here working on the computer."
"Thank you."
Tommy had hoped the man would leave them alone to snoop around, but he wasn't going to push his luck. He had the museum director eating out of his palm. No reason to change that dynamic.
The four visitors walked over to the filing cabinets and began with the cabinet marked M on the outside. Tommy pulled it open and started sorting through the files. The others watched over his shoulder.
Reece stole a quick look over his shoulder at the director. "He's a bit strange, isn't he?" he whispered.
"What?" Sean asked, making sure Wilbur couldn't hear his response. "You mean the man crush he has on Tommy?"
Tommy didn't look up. He was busily thumbing through the dozens of files and documents in the cabinet. "Jealousy is an ugly color on anyone, gentlemen."
"Because everyone aspires to catch the admiration of a stout museum director someday?"
Reece chuckled at the comment.
Adriana shifted her feet. Sean could tell she was restless. She was a woman of action and detested sitting around waiting while someone else did the work.
She stepped away from the others and looked down a row of boxes, stacked almost all the way to the ceiling on shelves that ran the length of the room to the far wall. There were only two such rows — the rest of the vault containing items such as furniture, sculptures, artifacts, and paintings. Adriana had seen a room like this before on a few occasions. Her hobby required it.
She'd spent years tracking down priceless art that went missing after World War II. Her skills as a master thief contributed to her success in recovering several and returning them to the rightful owners or governments. It was her attention to detail and a passion for research that accounted for the other portion of her success.
Wandering down the row, she noted a few boxes that were marked with nothing more than a large black X. Curiosity begged her to ask Wilbur what they were, but she thought better of it, realizing it could lead to a long, boring conversation with the man. Better to leave him to his work.
"It's not in here," she heard Tommy say.
Adriana pivoted and walked back to the files.
"Maybe we should check some of the other ones," Sean suggested. "She could have stored it by first name."
Tommy raised his head and shot his friend a look of haughty derision. "Really, Sean? Alphabetical by first name? What is this, amateur hour?"
Sean let the insult roll off his shoulders, but he laughed on the inside. "You never know; that's all I'm saying."
"Fine. Go check the R file if you want. I'm going to look through this one again."
Sean wasn't used to seeing this side of Tommy. He preferred the mopey, subservient version. He decided not to fight the battle and moved over to where he found a file marked with the letter R.
He flicked the locking button to the side, pulled on the handle, and when the file was open began flipping through the contents. Sean didn't really believe that he'd find the Mathews paper in the cabinet. If it was anywhere, it would be where Tommy was looking. Now he had to go through the process just for the sake of appearances.