Shelley sighed. "Mel isn't going to like this.”
He didn't.
“Could any of you tell if something was missing?" he asked when he was shown into the basement half an hour later.
Sharlene shook her head. "I haven't been down here much lately. I can't understand it. There's nothing of value here. These are rejects and old records and things people have donated that we don't dare get rid of but have no use for.”
Shelley had been picking her way delicately through some of the mess. "I don't think anyone was after an object. The boxes and cartons are all labeled, and the only ones that have been opened are marked 'Books' or 'Files.' And not recent files, either."
“How odd," Jane said. "If somebody's looking for something old, why would they start in Regina's office? And if they're looking for something recent, why bother to come down here? It doesn't make sense."
“Two different people looking for two different things?" Sharlene suggested.
“Maybe, but it seems unlikely," Jane said. "The only common thread seems to be Regina's death. Whoever is doing this presumably couldn't do it before she died. Or maybe they had no need to.”
Mel wasn't interested in this speculation. He turned to Sharlene. "Would there be any way to know what's missing, if anything is?"
“I don't think so," Sharlene said. "Unless Jane and Shelley filled out inventory forms on some of the things down here."
“No, we didn't," Jane said.
“You two were down here yesterday?" Mel asked.
“Yes. We came upstairs when Sharlene discovered the mess in Regina's office and we didn’t come back until this morning," Shelley said.
“So anyone in the building yesterday afternoon could have come down here," Mel said.
Jane thought back to the gathering in the boardroom while they had waited for him. Georgia had taken Caspar out of the room. Babs had left with Lisa. Jumper had removed Sharlene. Derek had gone to his office and Shelley had driven Whitney away. "Yes, anyone could have zipped off for a minute," she admitted.
“This took more than a minute," Mel said.
“Not necessarily. Not for the person who knew what they were looking for," Shelley said.
“Or if there were two of them," Jane said, thinking about the pairs of people who'd left the room. "And maybe it wasn't in the afternoon. Could someone have hidden down here and done this overnight?" she asked Sharlene.
“Maybe. We have a janitor who comes in three nights a week, but last night wasn't one of them."
“But, Mel, if someone had stayed here overnight, wouldn't they still be in the building?" Jane asked.
Sharlene cleared her throat and looked upset. "They could have left. What with police coming and going during the evening, I locked the door, but turned off the alarm system so it wouldn't be set off by accident. Nobody could come in, but anyone could have gotten out. I'm awfully sorry.”
Mel sighed. "I'll call in a report.”
Jane rescued Shelley's clipboard and went back to the boardroom. Shelley returned to taking inventory of a second-floor room. Jane greeted Heidi, the stuffed cat, and as she settled in at the computer, Derek Delano came into the room with a file folder. "Oh, I didn't know anyone was here," he said. "Are you going to be long?"
“All day," Jane answered. "Do you need me to leave?"
“No, no! I just have a few papers to copy. No need to disturb you at all," he said.
He sounded so guilty and nervous that Jane smiled to herself and guessed that he was using the museum's copier to run up duplicates of his résumé. Sharlene had underestimated his intelligence — or his cheapness. A bright person would have sprung for the money at a copy shop.
“Can I help you?" she asked with sweet maliciousness.
“No! I'm fine. Just go on with your work," he said, sounding downright panicked.
Jane went on with her data entry as the copier hummed and papers rustled. He must be blanketing the world with job applications, she thought. He finally finished and stacked his copies in a box. Just as he was slipping the lid on, the door opened and Jumper Cable appeared. Today he had on a Stetson hat, lizard-skin cowboy boots, Western-cut tan trousers, and a plaid shirt with pearl buttons.
“Secret stuff going on?" he said cheerfully. "Why was the door closed?"
“Was it?" Derek said, checking the copier to make sure he hadn't left a page in it.
“Is Detective VanDyne around?" Jumper asked. "I told him I'd meet him here."
“I think he's talking to Sharlene," Derek said. Out of the corner of her eye Jane noticed that he'd put his box of résumés on a chair and put a box of blank copy paper on top of it. "Is this about the basement?" he asked Jumper, joining him at the board table.
“Yup," Jumper said.
“It's up to the board and the police, of course, but I wouldn't waste much of anybody's time on trying to figure it out," Derek said. "Seems to me that somebody's just plain nosy. But I think, considering everything, we ought to get some locks changed and make better use of the security system."
“I agree with you," Jumper said, sounding as if he were surprised to find himself in accord with Derek.
“Listen, Cable — about this acting-director position — any idea how long before the board makes a permanent selection?”
Jane kept on working at the computer. Apparently a woman at a keyboard was much like a woman driving kids in a car. She ceased to exist as a hearing human entity.
“I don't know," Jumper answered, seemingly as unaware of Jane's presence as Derek was. "As you must know, we keep a file of applicants for positions here and will probably be asking them to update their material if they're interested. I've suggested putting an ad in trade publications, but Babs disagrees."
“You do know I'm interested in the job, don't you?" Derek's tone was unattractively wheedling.
“Of course," Jumper said pleasantly. "It's always best to promote from within, if possible."
“I've — well, I glanced through that applicant file this morning. As acting director, I think I'm entitled to." He waited a moment to see if Jumper would dispute this, but Jumper said nothing. "I don't think you'll find anyone in there with my credentials," he continued.
“Possibly not," Jumper said. Jane wondered if Derek could also hear the wary tone creeping into Jumper's voice. "Your academic background is impeccable. Downright impressive, in fact."
“Thanks," Derek said.
There was a long silence and then Jumper spoke again, slowly, choosing his words with great care. "There are other considerations as well."
“Like what?"
“Oh, public-relations aspects of the job—”
Derek sounded relieved. "Right. You saw that television spot I did two weeks ago about the Pea Festival, didn't you? If I do say so myself, I think I did a good presentation on that."
“It was excellent," Jumper said. "But the anchorwoman who interviewed you is a friend of mine. She called me later and said you'd tried to hit on her off camera."
“Hit on her? That's nuts! Why do women think that any good-looking man who's pleasant to them is trying to score? Jeez! Well, let me tell you, your anchorwoman friend is a frigid bitch. It's like Regina, getting all uptight. Of course, she was a lesbo."
"What?"
“Well, it figures, doesn't it? A woman that age who's never been married?"
“I doubt that her fiancé would agree with that," Jumper said coldly. "Derek, this attitude of yours — that everything is sexual and that any woman who doesn't fall for you is frigid or a lesbian or imagining what your motives are — counts against you. Badly. All your academic credits fade away when the board has to consider possible suits against you and the museum."
“What are you saying — cowboy?" he said sarcastically. "That I'm not going to be appointed director?"