The smile was back. I wondered where he’d been hiding it all this time. I knew why he was hiding it, because the smile transformed his face from stern to boyish. For an instant I could see the happy kid running around with Marty and the gang, instead of the strong arm of the law. The smile disappeared, and with it the boy, leaving the monolithic Agent Morrison again. I sighed, involuntarily.
“Just doing my job, ma’am.”
He looked up, past me, and I turned to see Marty making her way toward our table. She settled into the chair next to mine, dropping into it with a sigh and peeling off her coat. She’d shed the serious-woman armor of earlier and was back to her slightly offbeat casual wear, leaving me feeling overdressed. She looked tired, too.
James raised a hand again, and the waiter popped up to take Marty’s drink order. Apparently the FBI agent radiated an innate authority that trumped the big tip we’d given the week before, because the staff here certainly hadn’t responded to us like this. Of course, we had been acting like two crazy ladies, which might have had something to do with it. “We should order,” James said when Marty’s drink arrived. We placed three orders for pasta and made meaningless small talk until the food arrived. When the waiter had retreated again, James cleared his throat. OK, here it comes, I thought.
He said carefully, “Charles Worthington was arraigned in federal court today on charges of conspiracy, theft, and receipt of cultural objects under Title 18, U.S. Code, Section 668, theft of objects of cultural heritage. The charges are subject to fine and imprisonment of up to ten years. Charles Worthington has refused to comment on the charges and has retained counsel.”
“The Penn document?” Marty asked. When James nodded, Marty sighed. “What does that mean for the Society? What’re the chances of recovering the stuff that’s gone?”
James looked at her, not without sympathy, then said, “Marty, I just don’t know. We may never know the full extent of the thefts from the Society. We’re talking with Charles’s lawyer, and we may be able to cut a deal to recover at least some portion of the stolen items. Would the board accept something like that?”
“You mean, we get something back? I guess. The board will probably be happy to make all this go away as quickly as possible.”
The food was helping: I could feel my mind revving up. Marty still looked depressed.
“And Doris?” I asked.
“At the moment she’s undergoing psychiatric evaluation, to determine if she is in any shape to be charged. If she knows anything about the disposition of the items, we’ll find out what we can.”
That didn’t inspire great hope in me. “I wonder if she kept any records?”
James concentrated on his food for a long moment. “If there is a plea bargain, Charles would return what he could to the Society, or identify where it went, and make financial restitution for some portion of the rest. It would probably be only a fraction of what he got away with, but it would stay out of the press. Marty, is that good enough?”
“Hell, I don’t know. You can’t put a price on our good name, but there’s no point in dragging it through the mud publicly. I just hope Major Jonathan’s correspondence isn’t gone forever. Can you give me a few minutes alone with Charles to see if I can beat that information out of him?” When James glared at her, she held up both hands. “Joke. But I’m going to do my damnedest to track those down, whatever happens.”
“James,” I interrupted, “what about the other institutions where Charles had worked? Don’t we have an obligation to notify them about any of this?”
“I’m not a lawyer, so I really can’t say for sure. Of course if they get wind of this, they’re free to file suit on their own. But from what you’ve told me, it sounds as though they’re all in the same boat. If they admit they lost stuff, they’d look foolish, and they’d suffer for it.”
“Damn. This doesn’t seem right, somehow. We’ve got the bad guy in our sights, but we can’t go after him because we’d all be too embarrassed.” I sighed. “I know, I understand it, but that doesn’t mean I like it. At least Charles will never work for a museum again—right, Marty? The board is not about to give him a glowing recommendation after all this.”
“No way!” Marty said firmly.
I stifled a laugh. I looked down: my bowl was empty, my stomach was full. I felt about a hundred percent better than I had when I arrived.
“Marty, what do we do about the Society now? We don’t have a leader—well, practically speaking. Who’s next in line to take over? How will we handle day-to-day operations?”
Marty swallowed, then said slowly, “I can’t say we’ve ever had to deal with something like this—as far as I can recall, we’ve always had an orderly transition, with someone waiting in the wings. I think the first step is to call a special board meeting—at least get the Executive Committee together. And get our lawyer there. And our insurance carrier. Jimmy, can you be there?” He nodded. “How about you, Nell? Since you started this whole thing, you should be there, too, to fill in any blanks.”
“Sure.”
Marty looked at her watch—it was after ten. “Too late to call them tonight—I’ll get on it first thing in the morning, see if I can get a quorum together in the next day or so. We need to start doing some damage control here.”
“Sooner rather than later,” I agreed. “Listen, can I tell the staff tomorrow that Charles has been asked to resign? I know they’ve been picking up rumblings, and they deserve to know what’s going on. I don’t have to go into the details.”
“Good point. I say yes.” Marty stood up. “Guys, I’m beat. I’m going home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And thanks, both of you.” She wrapped her coat around her and headed out, leaving James and me alone at the table.
I realized I felt good. The buzz from the wine had not quite dissipated and I was well-fed; Marty no doubt would apply her considerable energies to sorting out the mess at the Society. Charles would be disgraced, even if only in his own eyes, and I felt proud of having ended our stunted relationship with a shred of dignity. The Society could move forward, somehow. I wasn’t quite sure what form it would take, but I felt hopeful for the first time in days.
And most important, we had solved Alfred’s murder.
It occurred to me that James hadn’t said anything for a while. I looked at him to find him studying me again. I tilted my head at him, in question.
He gave an apologetic half smile. “Sorry—was I staring? I was just thinking that you’ve handled yourself well. You sure you don’t want a job with the FBI?”
That made me laugh. “I’ll consider it, if things don’t work out at the Society. But I know I can be useful there while all this is shaking out. And I’m glad we found Alfred’s killer. I always counted Alfred as a friend. I respected his abilities, and I never wrote him off as unimportant, although I know a lot of other people did. Funny how he and Doris—two people who most of the staff never gave a second thought to—came so close to bringing the place down.” I sighed.
The check materialized, and James slipped out his credit card.
“So, dinner’s on the FBI?” I asked as I gathered my bag from the floor and stood to put on my coat.
“No, on me.” He reached to hold my coat as I slid my arm into it.
I stopped for a moment and looked him straight in the eye. “Thank you—for everything.”
He didn’t say anything immediately. Then he nodded. “Where’s your car? I’ll walk you to it.”
We didn’t have much to say as we walked to the parking garage, but it was nice to feel safe on the streets of the city after dark.
It didn’t take long to get to the garage.
“Well, this is it,” I said. Really bright comment, Nell.
“All right, then. Take care.”
For an awkward moment, I wondered if we were supposed to shake hands or something. In the end, I just turned and walked toward the stairs of the garage. As I entered the stairwell, I caught a brief glimpse of him, standi
ng where I’d left him, watching me.
CHAPTER 34
The next morning when I arrived I posted signs on the entry doors announcing a quick staff meeting—déjà vu time. I waited for the troops to gather in the boardroom. People appeared quickly, no doubt apprehensive about the rumors that had been swirling around over the past few days. Gossip travels fast in a small place.
When it looked as though everyone was assembled, I began to speak. “I know you all want to know what’s going on, but I only want to say it once. Is anybody missing?” People turned to look at each other and shrugged as one. “All right. I’ll give you the short version, and then you can ask questions. Charles Worthington has resigned from his position as president of the Society, effective immediately. There will be an ad hoc board meeting tomorrow to formally accept his resignation and to begin a search for his replacement.” I debated briefly whether to tell them about Doris’s role in Alfred’s death and decided against it. Let Alfred rest in peace, at least until the press got hold of Doris’s arrest. “Any questions?”
Of course there were. The impromptu meeting with the staff eventually ended only because we knew there were patrons lined up at the door, fuming, and we couldn’t afford to antagonize any of our supporters. Nobody mentioned anything about missing documents, not that many people knew about them. Had we really managed to keep that quiet? Or would staff members seek me out one at a time to get the real story? As I had told Marty, our staff were good people, by and large. I hoped they would stick around through whatever was coming, because we needed them, now more than ever. I hoped that they had enough trust in those of us who were left to be patient, and we wouldn’t be seeing a mass defection. I would be saddened to see some of these people go, and they were important to the Society if we wanted to keep operating as usual through the stormy days ahead.
I wasn’t particularly happy about the lack of leadership going forward. I remembered the search process from the last time and shuddered. If attracting qualified candidates and making a decision had been difficult then, what was it going to be like now, with Charles’s abrupt departure? But that wasn’t my problem: Marty was dealing with the board, and I knew she could handle whatever questions they pitched at her.
She’d managed to assemble the board in record time, or at least enough of them to make decisions. I don’t know what she told them to get them to show up at the Thursday meeting, beyond the bare facts of Charles’s defection. Since they shared some liability for what went on at the Society—and a fair number were lawyers— she had probably had to tell them more than that. In any case, they had all promised to come to the meeting.
Marty had asked me to be there, too, so I had dressed carefully, putting on my grandmother’s pearls again, and keeping them on this time. As I walked through the lobby, then the catalog room, I got more smiles than frowns from the busy staff members, so I assumed that they weren’t in panic mode. Yet.
The meeting had been scheduled for late afternoon, to accommodate professional schedules. Just before four, I wended my way to the boardroom on the second floor. It looked as though most people had already arrived. Marty was clearly in charge, back to her former no-nonsense self, and when she spied me she came over quickly.
“Nell! Glad you’re here—we’ve got a lot to get through. Jimmy’s coming to explain the legal side of things, and then the board is going to have to vote on a couple of things. I think it’ll be all right, but you never know. Listen, there’s something—”
She was interrupted by the arrival of the board chair, Lewis Howard, followed closely by James, and the three of them conferred as a few stragglers wandered in. Marty directed one last comment to the chairman, who cleared his throat and called the meeting to order. People drifted to their seats, sat down, and looked expectantly at him. I took a seat against the wall so I could watch the proceedings, since I didn’t have an active role in the group.
“Gentlemen—and ladies,” the chairman began, casting a conciliatory smile at the few women in the gathering, “we meet today under extraordinary circumstances, in the face of a crisis that threatens to undermine the very foundations of this noble establishment ...”
I’d seen Lewis Howard in action before at many board meetings. He was a Philadelphia lawyer with a long record of distinguished service, and he tended toward pomposity. Still, he was a noble figurehead for the Society, and he wasn’t entirely past his prime. He waxed eloquent, alternately outraged, apologetic, and hopeful. He stopped orating only when Marty, seated next to him, gave him a nudge, and then he turned the meeting over to James.
Agent James Morrison stood. He began with a brief announcement of Doris’s arrest, then segued into a crisp and concise summary of Charles’s depredations of the collections and outlined the plea bargain that Charles had indeed requested. He touched on what we could hope to recover, and he gave a time line for expected events. The board members looked uniformly stunned.
As James wrapped up, he glanced briefly at me, but I couldn’t read his expression. He returned to the assembled group. “Any questions?”
Marty had apparently done her work well, and there were few. The chairman asked if he should contact our insurance agency, and they agreed to meet at another time to review those details. Another member asked about issuing a public statement, and I cringed, but the majority voiced variations of the opinion that the less said, the better, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
James nodded to the group around the table. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ve got a lot of paperwork waiting for me. Feel free to contact me if you wish.” No one spoke, and he picked up his coat and headed for the door—where he paused, caught my eye, and winked. Winked? What was that about? And then he was gone.
Marty leaned toward the chairman and whispered something. He nodded, and she stood.
“I think we’ve covered most of our agenda, except for a few loose ends. First and foremost, we must officially remove Charles Worthington as president of this institution. He has tendered his resignation, but our attorney says that his alleged behavior certainly violates the terms of his contract, so I think that we may feel free to terminate him for cause.” I was faintly amused when I realized that this meant Charles would receive no severance pay or related benefits. “Do I hear a motion?”
“So moved,” three people were quick to answer. It was seconded in short order, and the motion was passed unanimously.
Marty spoke again. “That brings us to a second, related issue: how we intend to replace him.” Her eyes swept the group. “I have discussed this with all of you, and I believe that we are in agreement?” Heads nodded. “I propose that we appoint Eleanor Pratt as interim president, to assume active day-to-day management of the Society.”
Wait a minute! She wanted me to take over? For a moment I was speechless. She was grinning at me.
I found my voice. “Uh, excuse me, did I hear you correctly? You want me to run the Society?”
There were plenty of other eyes on me now. Marty looked around the table and then back at me.
“Yes. We’ve talked about it, and we all agree that you are the best choice, at least for now. You know this place, how it works. You’ve worked with the board. You were crucial to uncovering the thefts and to pushing for a more thorough investigation. And the staff like and trust you—they’ll support you. It’s going to be difficult for a while, but we really need someone like you at the helm.”
My head was spinning. Part of me was screaming in panic: No, I like the job I have, I don’t want the responsibility, I couldn’t possibly be any good at it . . . And then the spinning stopped and was replaced by a great sense of calm. I had a flashing vision of what this place could be, of what I wanted it to be. And with that came a flood of ideas, things I had wanted to implement, experiment with, and how I could define strategies, work with the board . . . It was an extraordinary opportunity, and I’d be an idiot not to seize it. I looked Marty in the eye.
“I’m honored by your fa
ith in me. I would be delighted to accept.”
I was stunned. I had never been particularly ambitious, and I’d been happy to work with the people who ran the shop wherever I was. I was a good and dependable lieutenant. But . . . this?
But, I realized, it made sense. A president represented the place to the public, managed the staff on a macro level, and asked for money. I could do that. Heck, at least if I asked for money as president, I’d have more clout than I did as development director. That was a big plus right there.
Marty and Lewis Howard were both looking at me, so I guessed I was supposed to say something. I stood up and made my way to the head of the table. As I gathered my scattered thoughts, I looked out at the board, at people whom I had known for years, had worked with on events or committees. And I knew they were upset by what had happened—or what they knew about it. They’d never hear all the details, but they didn’t need to. What they wanted to hear now was reassurance, comfort, hope. I could do that.
I cleared my throat and spoke. “Thank you for your confidence in me. We are all here because we care about history, about preserving the evidence of the past so that this generation and future generations don’t lose sight of where they came from. We all know that the course of history is seldom smooth, and that applies to the Society as well.
“A few weeks ago we were happy to celebrate our one hundred twenty-fifth anniversary. While the events in the past weeks have been profoundly troubling, they in no way change who we are, what we do. We are lucky to have identified the problem and found a solution quickly, and I want to believe that this will make us stronger in the future. I think I can guarantee that we’ll be taking a long, hard look at our security procedures.” A laugh rippled through the group. I smiled. “I have a lot of ideas about what we can do, but this is not the time or the place to discuss those. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the coming months. But for now, I want you to know that we can and will weather this, as we have weathered problems in the past, and continue to serve our mission. And thank you for giving me the chance to be part of it.”
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