Mayhem in May

by Camilla Chafer

  "I think they're telling us that they're leaving us alone," grinned Ethan.

  "That obvious, huh?" I opened the refrigerator and pulled out the bottle of wine I had chilling. I intended to open it with Janey and Karen on the weekend but tonight seemed like the perfect moment. "Can I get you a glass?" I offered.

  "Tell me where they are and I'll get them."

  "The cabinet over your head." I opened the bottle and poured, then opened the door for us to walk out onto the patio. We sat at the garden table and I dropped the small notepad onto the top. "What do we do with this now?" I asked.

  "See if it makes any sense after a glass of wine?" suggested Ethan.

  "And if it doesn't?"

  "Then tomorrow we should give it to the police."

  "We?"

  Ethan raised his glass and clinked it against mine. "I think we're in this together."

  Chapter Eighteen

  "What's going on?" I asked as I stepped behind the reception desk after lunch. Instead of the lobby being silent and empty, as it had been since we were forced to temporarily close, a small crowd of people were gathered and the queue extended beyond the open doors onto the sidewalk.

  "Enjoy your visit," said Karen, handing over a pair of tickets to the couple waiting on the other side of the desk. They grinned and bent their heads to talk to each other as they moved into the library.

  "Everyone is really excited to see the new exhibition," she said, waving the next group forwards before dispensing their tickets and taking payment. "They began to arrive as soon as we opened the doors."

  We spent the morning auditing the last of the rooms. We had to psyche ourselves up to open up the exhibition space where Lance was killed, and even then, we hurried through the task. Artie told the crime scene cleaners to come in as early as possible. All I had to do after they left, and just as I arrived, was straighten up the exhibit that Lance had fallen against, and air the room of the offensive chemical odor. Being in that room gave both Karen and me unpleasant shivers but I was sure we would get past it when the crime wasn't so fresh in our memories. Finally, just as we finished checking boxes, Artie broke the news that the board didn't want to delay any further; they authorized us to open the museum after lunch. Karen updated the website and social media and I headed to my office, utterly exhausted.

  "There're so many people!" I whispered as I stood on tiptoes to see several more joining the queue.

  "Isn't it great? They're all so excited to see the new exhibition. We should consider taking advance ticket sales for all the special exhibitions in the future so people can reserve the day and time of their choosing. All the big museums do it."

  "Uh-huh," I said, watching the stream of people heading into the library and onto the next room where a volunteer waited to check their tickets. Privately, I wondered if the sudden influx in visitors was owing to a keen interest in the exhibition or just a ghoulish desire to see the room in which a man was murdered.

  "We should speak to the board about raising the prices. It's long overdue. Think of the extra revenue!" Karen whispered. "We could gradually recover some of the money we lost by Lance's thefts!"

  "Don't you think it's strange that the board refuses to recover the money through insurance?" I asked her, keeping my voice low so no one else could hear. She took a card payment and handed over another set of tickets and a brochure. I told Karen all about the board meeting during the final audit.

  "It is a little odd but I understand their concerns about our reputation. Gossip like that sticks, especially in a small town."

  "I guess," I muttered, still unsure.

  "Plus, the insurance premiums will go up and we'll probably have to upgrade our security systems, which won't be cheap. What if we have to do bag checks on our volunteers every time we leave at night? The trust will be irreparably eroded."

  "I didn't even think of the last bit." All morning I was distracted by the thoughts of the ledger currently stashed in my bag, which was upstairs in my office. After dinner, Ethan and I tried to crack the code but by the time we finished one bottle of wine, and he told me a really funny story about a client's increasingly insane demands, we descended into silly giggles and gave up. After the sun was fully set, he walked home and I went to bed, all thoughts of the ledger out of my mind. Yet when I awoke this morning, it was the first thing I thought about. Even my morning coffee couldn't alert my brain to any code-cracking ideas. I was sure it must be simple as Lance needed to remember it quickly to easily input his entries. I was sure it was only a matter of time before something I tried finally worked. One thought that continued to nag me was my duty as a citizen to hand the ledger over to the police. It could be crucial evidence and Detective Logan might have access to someone who specialized in deciphering such things.

  "Good morning!" George said as he strode towards us, bypassing the queue.

  "George, what a nice surprise!" I smiled at him.

  "I'm meeting Artie. It probably won't come as any surprise to you that the board decided to ask Artie to stay on for another month or two," he announced. "It’ll give us more time for the uh, transition period." George looked at his feet and coughed, suddenly uncomfortable. I knew why. They were still deciding whom to hire for Artie's replacement. Which meant they weren't definitively offering the job to me. With all the new developments, I hadn’t thought about the job at all.

  "He's in his office," I said coolly to ease his obvious discomfort and also to redirect him away from me quickly.

  "I'll head up there. Good work with the ticket sales," he added, nodding at Karen.

  "Like I had anything to do with it," Karen snorted when George was across the lobby. "Did you hear him? Asking Artie to stay on! Why don't they just give you the job like they're supposed to? Then Artie can retire like he intended to. Everyone will be happy."

  "I guess they're not doing that," I said. Disappointment hit me squarely in the stomach. "Do you mind if I run an errand? I won't be long."

  "Go right ahead. Take all the time you like on their dime. If they're not going to treat you right, you need to decide where your loyalty lies."

  I held back a smile at Karen's forthrightness. "I won't be long," I promised. "I just have to drop off some paperwork." That was technically accurate. I didn't need to explain anything else yet, especially as it wasn't an errand regarding museum business. No, I planned to go to the police station. Detective Logan might think the notepad was nothing, but even as that thought popped into my head, I couldn't believe it. It had to be a ledger and the absolute proof we needed of Lance's wrongdoing. If it could lead us to his partner, then it was the key to everything. No, despite the discussions I had with Ethan, I couldn't hang onto what could turn out to be a crucial piece of evidence.

  I jogged up to my office, grabbed my purse and shrugged on my lightweight jacket as I stepped into the corridor. Artie's door was closed but I could hear his and George's low voices inside, too quiet to know what they were saying. I wondered what Artie thought about their request to stay on longer and whether he was still pitching for me to replace him. I wondered, if it’s that hard for me to be offered the job, do I even want it anymore? Perhaps I was better off looking through the classified section and seeing if there was something else I could do in the museum industry. Not for the first time, I wondered if I could commute or work remotely. Perhaps, I could be a visiting curator? Or maybe there was some kind of consulting I could do? My future was something I needed to think about carefully.

  Slightly buoyed by those thoughts, I hurried downstairs and cut through the parking lot to avoid all the visitors. Lance's car was gone and apart from Karen's and George's cars, the lot was empty. I walked purposefully to the police station and marched up to the desk.

  "I'd like to see Detective Logan please," I told the desk officer.

  "He isn't here," said the officer, glancing up from where he tapped on a computer.

  "I need to give him something."

  He looked up with interest. "Is
it muffins?"

  I frowned. "No. Why would I bring him muffins?"

  "I was just being hopeful. Never mind. What do you want to drop off?"

  I put my hand on the ledger's spine and thought better of it. "Actually, I'll hang onto it. Can you tell him Tess Hernandez has something for him and he can call me anytime? I work at the museum."

  This time, his face registered a little more interest. "Sure. I'll give him the message."

  I took my time walking back to the museum and when my cell phone rang before I got there, I stopped and checked the screen. Ethan. Heading over to a bench, I sat down and answered.

  "Did you crack the code?" he asked, his voice cheerful and curious.

  "No. I looked at it again this morning and it was all just random numbers and letters."

  "I was thinking the key must be something close to Lance. Something he would remember well. Maybe a pet's name or a girlfriend or something like that."

  "Lance was so self-absorbed, that sounds likely. Unfortunately, I don't know any information like that."

  "We could check his social media?"

  "Sure! Maybe I could ask Artie if he knew anything personal? Something that we could work from? I'm on my way back to the museum now so I'll ask him."

  "Everything okay?"

  "I think so. I went to the police station to give the ledger to Detective Logan but he wasn't there so I'm taking it back to my office. The museum is open again and really busy today so I might not get another chance to look at it again. I'm sure the detective will want to collect it as soon as possible."

  "Do you have a copy machine?" asked Ethan.

  "Yes."

  "Can you copy a couple of pages? We can still work on it even after you hand it in."

  "Good plan!"

  "I'll call later and we can meet somewhere. Maybe I could take you and the girls to dinner?"

  "That sounds nice," I said, rising and smiling at his enthusiasm. "Let's talk later." We hung up and I walked back to the museum with a renewed bounce in my step. On the way to my office, I printed copies of a few of the ledger's pages before I locked it in my desk drawer for safekeeping.

  George waved through my open door as he passed by a few minutes later and I gave him a brief, unenthusiastic, wave in return. When his footsteps faded, I hurried through to Artie's office. I found my boss with his eyes closed, his hands clasped across his belly, and looking for all the world like he was asleep.

  "Is this a good time?" I asked.

  He opened his eyes slowly. "George asked me to stay on," he said. "He even offered part time hours if I preferred."

  "Are you going to?"

  "I told him to stop being an ass and just give you the job. He said they were thinking about it."

  "Okay." I couldn't help the sigh that escaped. If Artie noticed, he didn't say anything.

  "I'm tired, Tess. I want to enjoy my retirement but I don't want to hand my job over to anyone but you."

  "You can't stay forever just to thwart the board. You have a life to lead."

  "I want to leave this museum in good hands. It's been my life for decades. I don't get what's going on with the board. They almost always take my recommendations and now it's like they're just humoring this old man."

  "It's hardly humoring if they want you to keep working."

  "Humoring is exactly what it is! They want me to do the work but don't want to hear me tell them what is required. Karen, come on in," he added, waving. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her hovering in the doorway. I hadn't even heard her approach.

  "I thought you'd like to know that we've sold out all advance tickets for today and the rest of the week," she said. "It looks like that idea is a whopping success."

  "That's great news."

  "We've kept some tickets by for daily sales. I think we should consider a late opening this week to take advantage of all the interest and maybe even upgrade our online booking system for the future. I know it will be worth it."

  "If you're happy to coordinate it with the volunteers for a late opening, it's fine by us," said Artie. He looked at me and I nodded.

  "I can stay on extra hours if necessary," I told them.

  "Great. I'll do that!" grinned Karen, turning to leave.

  "Wait, while you're here, there's something I want to talk to you both about," I told her. "Come in and close the door."

  "This sounds serious," said Karen as she stepped inside and pushed the door shut.

  "I found something in Lance's office," I started. "It might be nothing. Or maybe it’s something."

  "Go on," prompted Artie. He waved Karen into the spare chair and then pointed to the other one. I took the hint and sat.

  "It looks like a ledger. I can't be sure but I think it's a record of the things Lance stole and sold."

  "That's great! You should turn it over to the police promptly. Perhaps when they track down the stolen items we can persuade the board to rethink the insurance claim," said Artie, sitting up straighter. “The more I think about it, the more I think we should claim that insurance.”

  "We thought so too."

  "We?" asked Karen.

  "Ethan and I. We found it together and we tried to make sense of it but here's the problem: it's in some kind of code. Not like Lance scribbled down what he stole and where he sold it and how much. No, he went to great lengths in making sure he's the only person who can read it," I explained, hoping they wouldn't ask where we found the ledger. I didn't want to admit I searched Lance's office but I would if necessary. It was museum property.

  "The sneaky devil!" cursed Artie.

  "We thought the key must be something obvious."

  "I've heard about code keys before," said Karen. "Simple ciphers are a case of just moving a few letters in the alphabet a few places ahead or behind. Once you know what it is, it's easy to translate the message."

  I nodded. "We thought Lance might have used a key that was obvious to him. Perhaps a pet name or a girlfriend. A small piece of information only he would know."

  "I don't know about anything like that," said Artie.

  "He didn't have a girlfriend," said Karen. "Although he made it sound like he could get any woman he wanted."

  "I suppose it really could be anything," I added.

  "Can we see it?" asked Artie.

  I handed him one of the printouts I made. "This is the last entry. I think it'll lead us to Lance's partner too. He can't have come up with this all alone."

  "If that's so, this is a dangerous piece of information," said Artie. He frowned at the paper, apparently not making any sense of it. "I insist you turn it over to the police immediately."

  "I tried earlier but Detective Logan wasn't at the station."

  "Where is the ledger now?" asked Karen.

  "Locked safely in my desk. I left a message for the detective to call and I will ask him to pick it up as soon as I hear from him. I hope that will be today."

  "Who else knows about this?" asked Artie.

  "Just the three of us and Ethan."

  "Good. Let's keep it that way," said Artie. He studied the sheet and passed it over to Karen. She frowned hard at it, then passed it to me.

  "I'm sorry. It doesn't make any sense to me," she said.

  "I'm sure it won't be too difficult. Lance probably thought everyone else was too stupid to crack the code."

  "Sounds like Lance," laughed Karen. Then she stopped and pulled a face. "I don't feel like I should laugh at him, not just yet. It seems mean, given the circumstances."

  "I'd better get back to work," I told them, "but I appreciate you taking a look at this."

  "I'm sure the police will work it out quickly. They must have people who do this kind of thing for a living," said Karen. "I'll head downstairs but I'm glad I got to share some good news. It feels like a very long time since we had any." She pushed back her chair and we all winced at the loud scrape. Opening the door, she left, tugging it shut behind her. The door immediately popped open again.

&n
bsp; "I really should get that looked at," said Artie with a shake of his head. "The damn door won't shut anymore. As for this... make sure you hand it over to Detective Logan as soon as you can. I don't like the idea of you having critical information like this."

  "No one else knows about it," I reminded him.

  "Let's keep it that way."

  I remained in my office all afternoon, periodically pulling out the photocopy to take a look at it but nothing came to mind. All I had to show for my efforts was a page full of scribbles. No matter how many times I moved letters around, nothing seemed to click. My cell phone remained quiet too. No calls from Detective Logan and none from Ethan. When Artie stuck his head around my door at five, he asked. "Any luck?"

  "None," I admitted, "but I'm still working on it."

  "Why don't you take off? Go home. See the girls. Try to have a relaxing evening."

  "I just have to make a couple of phone calls," I told him.

  "Make sure you're gone by six. I don't want you here after closing. Walk out with Karen and the volunteers."

  "Yes, boss."

  "I can send someone up if you like?"

  "I'll be fine," I assured him. "You go home."

  "'Night, Tess!"

  I made my phone calls and answered some emails and by half past five, I decided I should probably call Ethan and invite him to dinner at my house. The girls would like that and since they were probably lounging at home, it would be easier then persuading them to go out. Or maybe just the two of us could go out? With that idea in my head, I shuffled the prints into a neat stack, folded them and put them into my purse along with the industry magazine I planned to read later. Some of the articles looked especially interesting. I turned off the lights and grabbed my jacket. As I reached the door, I realized I left my cell phone on my desk and the ledger in the drawer. I couldn't leave them overnight. What if Detective Logan called this evening? Perhaps it would be better if I took it to the police station on the way home, just in case he returned.

  Turning, I stepped over to the desk and unlocked the drawer. I dropped the ledger into my purse amongst the journals while I searched for my cell phone. I knew I put it on the desktop somewhere. Behind me the door creaked open. "More good news, Karen?" I asked as I lifted a stack of journals. "Did the volunteers... Argh!" I screamed. Something heavy struck the back of my head and I dropped to my knees, pained and disorientated. Then the heavy object fell again but this time, the world went black.