Free The Statue Walks at Night by Joan Lowery Nixon Page A

instance, Brian and Sean had helped their father prove that it wasn’t a ghost who was haunting the Pine Tree Inn. In another case, Brian and Sean had uncovered evidence that called into question the authenticity of a mysterious photograph of “Bigfoot.”
    From where they sat on the stairs, Brian and Sean could hear the urgency in Mrs. Gomez’s voice.
    â€œThe Redoaks County Museum has what is claimed to be a foolproof security system,” she explained, “but in spite of all our precautions, two extremely valuable sketches by Leonardo da Vinci are missing.”
    â€œMissing?” said Mr. Quinn. “Do you mean stolen?”
    Mrs. Gomez sighed. “Yes.”
    â€œI’m familiar with the galleries in your museum, Maggie, but I don’t remember any da Vinci sketches,” Mr. Quinn said.
    â€œThe sketches don’t belong to the museum,” Mrs. Gomez said. “That’s what makes the theft even worse. They’re from a traveling exhibit on loan from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. We’ve heavily advertised the exhibit, and it’s scheduled to go on display in just one week. If the sketches aren’t found by then…” Her voice broke as she cried, “I’m responsible for the safety of that collection, John! What am I going to do?”
    â€œMaggie,” Mr. Quinn said in his calm, professional private investigator’s voice. “Call the police about the theft. They’ll be able to search the museum. Also, they’ll be able to get warrants to search your employees’ homes. That’s something that as a private investigator I don’t have the legal right to do.”
    â€œI have called the police,” Mrs. Gomez told him. “That’s the first thing I did. I also called our insurance company. I was told by the manager of their theft division that ordinarily they would bring in one of their own investigators immediately. But sometimes they prefer to hire private investigators, especially in cases that need to be solved quickly—like this one. He gave me your name, John. He knew you’d not only be efficient but would keep the situation as quiet as possible.”
    â€œThen let’s start with a few questions,” Mr. Quinn said.
    Brian imagined that his father had pulled out the notebook and pen he always carried with him. A notepad and a pen, his father had explained many times before, are a private investigator’s most important tools. Brian, who planned to someday become a private investigator, too, pulled his own notebook and pen from a pocket in his jeans.
    â€œTell me the story from the beginning,” Mr. Quinn urged, “noting exactly when you discovered that the sketches were missing.”
    â€œThe cartons arrived three days ago,” Mrs. Gomez said, “on Friday afternoon. My staff and I looked through them, checked the list, and everything was included. So I shelved the cartons in a special locked cabinet inside our large storeroom.”
    â€œIs the storeroom kept locked?” Mr. Quinn asked.
    â€œNo. Not during working hours. That would be inconvenient. And it’s never been necessary,” she said, “until now. I thought the exhibit material was safe, but this evening, when I took out the cartons to decide how to arrange the pieces in the exhibit, I discovered that two da Vinci sketches had been removed from their frames.”
    â€œWas the cabinet broken into?” Mr. Quinn asked.
    â€œNo.”
    Mr. Quinn looked up from his notepad. “Then whoever stole the art must have used a key.”
    Mrs. Gomez nodded. “My key, I’m afraid.”
    Mr. Quinn frowned. “How can you be so sure?” he asked.
    Mrs. Gomez was embarrassed. “It’s no secret that I keep the key in my top desk drawer,” she said. “I guess it’s not the safest place I could have thought of, but visitors