Museum Mayhem Read online

  Miss Alcott’s mouth dropped open. The entire restaurant turned to see what the yelling was about. A woman put her baby in her lap, covering the little girl’s ears.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Miss Alcott said, “But we really had nothing to do with this.”

  “Come with me!” Mr. Whimbley yelled over his shoulder. “All of you.”

  He strode out of the restaurant. The guard named Rita waved the children to follow behind in single file.

  “He seems really angry,” Nancy whispered to her friends.

  “And Miss Alcott looks like she’s going to cry,” Bess added. “It’s not fair.”

  Robby and Kevin were still laughing, even when they walked into the hallway. George nudged Robby hard in the ribs. “You’re going to get us into even more trouble!” she said.

  Mr. Whimbley walked four times as fast as everyone else, passing the closed galleries, the modern art exhibits, and a few sculptures covered in white cloth. The security guard walked in the back of the group, making sure all the children were there. When they finally reached the end of the hall, Mr. Whimbley pulled back a curtain, ushering them into a side room.

  In the center of it was a tall marble podium. A huge clay sculpture sat on the ground beside it. It was of a woman’s head, the nose and ears broken off. Nancy couldn’t help but feel like it was staring at her.

  “This is terrible,” Miss Alcott said. She circled the statue on the ground, looking at the marble podium it used to be standing on. The sculpture was made out of shiny red clay. Red dust covered the white floor.

  “Yes, it definitely is,” Rita said. “There are more than five different pieces there! Smashed to bits!”

  “It will cost at least four thousand dollars to repair this,” Mr. Whimbley said. “And it will never be the same. Someone is responsible. The sculpture didn’t just fall over by itself.”

  Nancy looked down at the statue. Bess and George stood close behind her. When the guard wasn’t looking, she picked up one of the statue’s broken ears. It felt heavy in her hand. Mr. Whimbley was right. It wouldn’t have fallen off the podium. Someone must’ve knocked into it.

  “So, tell us what happened, Rita,” Mr. Whimbley said.

  “I was in the hall outside, watching this group of kids pass through. Then I went into one of the side rooms because I thought I heard something. Within a minute . . . BAM! CRASH! I ran here, and this statute was on the ground. The curtain was moving. One of these kids must have run through here and left.”

  The entire class started talking. “How are you so sure it was us?” Kevin asked.

  “None of us left the group—not even for a minute,” Sydney added.

  “Who else could it have been then? Your class was the only class in the entire hall. I’d been standing there for over an hour,” Rita said. “I’m positive.”

  “It’s a misunderstanding,” Miss Alcott said. Nancy and Bess noticed her hands were shaking. They’d never seen her so nervous before. “Please, let’s talk about this. I’m sure by the morning we’ll have this all straightened out.”

  “There’s no use in talking. We either need a time machine or four thousand dollars. Someone is going to have to pay for this. And if your students didn’t do it, then who did?”

  Miss Alcott opened her mouth to say something else, but Mr. Whimbley walked away. He slipped behind the curtain, turning once before going.

  “Rita?” he said. “Will you bring the class back to the restaurant?”

  The security guard nodded. Almost as soon as Mr. Whimbley walked away, Miss Alcott’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said sadly. “This is such a nightmare. What am I going to do?”

  “I think we know how we can help,” Nancy whispered to her friends. She scanned the room, looking for anything that seemed strange. “It’s time for the Clue Crew to get to work!”

  A Puzzling Purse

  “We can get to the bottom of this,” Bess said, pulling Miss Alcott aside. “There has to be an explanation.”

  Miss Alcott covered her mouth with her hand. “I hope so. . . . But how? We don’t have much time.”

  “Mr. Whimbley!” Nancy called. “Can we have one minute to talk with you?”

  Mr. Whimbley brushed the bald spot on the back of his head as he walked. He didn’t turn around.

  “Please!” Miss Alcott said. She grabbed his arm.

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Mr. Whimbley said. He clapped his hands together as he spoke. “The museum needs four thousand dollars to fix that statue. It’ll have to come from the River Heights school district.”

  “You have to give us a chance,” Miss Alcott said. “At least let us try to figure out what happened. I know my students didn’t do this. It’s a small class, and I was with them the whole time.”

  Mr. Whimbley watched as another group of students marched through the wing. They were walking single file, their hands on each other’s shoulders. They barely looked at any of the closed exhibits. “Who else could it have been?” he repeated. “Dozens of classes come through here every day, but your class was the only class that came through right when the statue was broken.”

  “We’re not sure who did this,” Nancy said, “but that’s what we want to find out.”

  Sydney stepped forward. “Nancy and her friends have solved every mystery in River Heights. When our principal’s computer was stolen, they were the ones who found out who did it. They’ll figure this out too. You’ll get your money.”

  Mr. Whimbley looked at Nancy and her friends. “Aren’t you a little young to be solving mysteries?” he asked.

  “Trust us—they’re good!” Robby yelled from the back of the group. “Nancy, George, and Bess can solve anything.”

  Miss Alcott clasped her hands together. “Please? Just one chance?” she asked.

  Mr. Whimbley took a deep breath. “If you swear it wasn’t you, I suppose I can give you until tomorrow morning. We’ll meet at ten o’clock, before you leave. But no more. If you can’t come up with some explanation for me, then River Heights Elementary will have to take responsibility. You were the last students seen in this wing. It’s clear someone knocked the sculpture over.”

  “Thank you,” Miss Alcott said. A few students were so relieved that they clapped.

  Nancy knew they didn’t have much time. “Can we go back to the room with the sculpture?” she asked. “We want to take a closer look at where it happened. That’s the best place to start.”

  “I can bring the rest of the class back to the restaurant,” Miss Alcott said.

  Mr. Whimbley rubbed his forehead. “I guess,” he said, striding down the hall. “Follow me.”

  While the class went to the restaurant, Nancy, Bess, and George returned to the room with the sculptures, and they went to work. They knew they could find out so much by searching the scene. Four other sculptures were in the room—one in each corner. The broken sculpture had been on a high podium in the center.

  “Do you see that?” George asked. She pointed to the scaffolding covering one wall. A giant blue tarp hung over it. “I didn’t notice it before.”

  “Someone could’ve been hiding in there,” Nancy said. She jogged around the room. A man in a green jumpsuit swept the red stuff from the floor. Nancy knelt down to look. “It’s dust from the sculpture. Like tiny bits of clay.”

  Just then Rita, the security guard, returned. “I thought I told you girls to get back to the restaurant!”

  “Now, now, Rita,” Mr. Whimbley said. “I’m allowing the girls to look around to see if they notice anything strange. Can you tell them again what happened?”

  Bess stepped forward. She pulled a tiny sketch pad from her knapsack. “It would help us a lot,” she said.

  Rita didn’t look pleased. Still, she cleared her throat and began. “I was standing near the sculpture, and I went into one of the closed galleries for a moment because I thought I heard a sound. There was nothing in the first gallery, the
n CRASH! When I got here, the sculpture was turned over. Smashed on the floor. Then I saw that curtain right there moving, like someone had just left.” She pointed to the doorway beside the scaffolding.

  Bess scribbled down notes in her sketch pad. “That’s all helpful,” she said.

  Nancy took another walk around the room as the janitor swept up the last of the red dust. “The red dust was on this side of the podium, which meant the person hit the sculpture from this side.” She pointed to the side closest to Rita.

  “Wait! I found something!” Bess called from across the room. She held a purple coin purse in the air. “It was right beneath the tarp. Someone must’ve dropped it.”

  George and Nancy ran to her and studied the purse. There were tiny flowers on the front of it. It looked like it belonged to someone their age.

  “Does it look familiar?” Mr. Whimbley asked. “Maybe it belongs to one of your classmates.”

  “Maybe, but I’ve never seen it before,” Nancy said. She plucked it from Bess’s hand and then turned it over. On the back was a sticker that said BENSONHURST ACADEMY. “This is a school two towns over. Are they visiting today?”

  Mr. Whimbley adjusted his glasses, trying to read the fine print. “Yes, I think they are.”

  “But which student could it belong to?” George asked. “Is there anything inside?”

  Nancy opened up the wallet. There were only a few coins. “Well, whoever dropped it will come back here looking for it. That’s for sure.”

  “And even if they’re not the person who broke the sculpture,” George said. “They may have seen something.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Bess asked.

  “What are you thinking?” Mr. Whimbley said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “We’ll have to have a stake out,” Nancy said.

  The girls all split up, ignoring Rita and Mr. Whimbley. They had more important things to do. They had to find the perfect place to hide.

  Stake Out

  “Ow,” Bess moaned. She shook her foot several times. “My foot is asleep. I don’t know how much longer I can stay here.”

  “Shh!” George whispered. “We’re close. I can feel it.”

  The room was dark. The girls were all squished behind another statue, a weird blob that looked like an elephant. The woman’s head from the broken statue still lay on the floor. In the dim light, the tarp looked like a giant ghost. “Whoever this belongs to will have to come back eventually, right?” Nancy asked.

  She was starting to feel unsure. Mr. Whimbley and Rita had agreed to let them hide here for an hour, then they turned down the lights and went to a different part of the museum. Now forty minutes had passed and nothing had happened.

  “Seriously, guys,” Bess said. “My foot is asleep, and I have to go to the bathroom. I had a whole glass of lemonade and—”

  “Shhhhh!” George said again. She covered Bess’s mouth with her hand. Then she pointed to the far end of the hall. The curtain moved. A hand popped through, then two shadowy figures entered the room. One knelt down on the floor.

  Nancy ran to the light switch. She turned it on, and the entire room came into view. There, right in the doorway, were two girls in Bensonhurst Academy uniforms. Their maroon cardigans were tied around their waists. One of the girls had both hands on the ground.

  “Looking for something?” Nancy asked.

  That girl shot straight up, then put her hands behind her back.

  “N-no . . . w-we . . . were j-just . . . ,” the other girl stuttered.

  “Were you looking for this?” George asked. She pulled the coin purse from her pocket and held it in the air.

  Nancy recognized the blond-haired girl as Melody Price. She was one of the most popular girls at Bensonhurst Academy. Nancy had seen her during the annual homecoming day parade. Melody was always on the front of the float, waving to all the people crowded on the sidewalk. Now she looked scared, her cheeks a deep pink.

  “Um . . . why?” Melody asked.

  George walked over to them, holding the purse in her hand. “We were hoping you could help us,” she said.

  “Can you tell us when you dropped the purse? Did you come in here for a reason?” Nancy asked.

  Melody twirled a strand of her hair. “We took a wrong turn, that’s all,” she said. “We thought our class was in here, but they weren’t.”

  Bess took out her sketch pad and wrote down a few notes. “How could they have possibly taken a wrong turn?” she whispered to George. “There were construction signs everywhere.”

  The girl with the braid sighed. “Can we have Melody’s purse now? We told you everything we know.”

  As George passed them the purse, Nancy tried one more question. “Did you see anything strange when you were in here? What time would you say you dropped it?”

  Melody looked at her watch. “Maybe about two hours ago. Somewhere around six o’clock. I didn’t see anything. Did you, Lena?”

  “Nothing,” Lena said.

  “We ask because this sculpture was broken right around six fifteen,” Bess said, looking at her notes. She pointed to the pieces on the ground. “We’re trying to figure out who is responsible. So, if you saw anything, it might help us.”

  “Whoa. . . . I didn’t notice that,” Lena said. She looked at the cracked head on the floor.

  “That’s so weird. It was fine when we left,” Melody said. “We must’ve been in the classroom by six fifteen. If you don’t believe me, I can show you the ink drawing. My teacher has it somewhere.”

  Lena kept staring at the broken sculpture. “It definitely didn’t look like that when we were here,” she said.

  Bess looked over her notes. The sculpture was broken somewhere around six fifteen, but both the girls said they’d left the room before that. It must have happened right after they went through. “Was there anyone else around? Maybe in another room or in that hall?” Bess pointed to the side doors.

  Melody’s eyes went wide. “Now that you mention it . . . there were two men in the room next door. They were painting or hammering or something. I remember we passed them on the way out.”

  Nancy looked at her friends. “Two more witnesses,” she said. “If Melody and Lena didn’t see anything, maybe they might have.”

  Lena looked bored. She kept undoing the end of her braid, then braiding it again. “Can we go now?” she asked.

  Melody hooked her arm through Lena’s elbow. “Yeah, we were supposed to meet the rest of our class five minutes ago.”

  “You can go,” George said. “But we might need your help later, and there may be more questions.”

  Melody rolled her eyes as she walked out of the hall. “Fine, but we told you everything.”

  Bess looked down at the list of notes she had made, then smiled. Even Melody couldn’t shake her good mood. Maybe they didn’t have answers, but they had another tip to go on. That was good enough for her.

  “Two witnesses down,” Bess said. “And two more to go. Come on. Let’s see if we can find those workers they mentioned!”

  Then she started off into the next hall, waving for George and Nancy to follow her.

  Two . . . Suspects?

  It took Nancy, Bess, and George a few minutes to find the room Melody and Lena were talking about. They had to make two left turns to get to it, weaving behind the sculpture hall. They pushed past a plastic sheet. Inside, two men were painting the walls a dark blue.

  “You girls aren’t supposed to be in here,” said a round guy with freckles. His nose had a blue smudge on it. “Can’t you see this place is under construction? Gallery isn’t open for another three weeks.”

  A thin man with a mask over his face ran a roller up the wall. “Yeah! No one’s allowed in here!” he shouted through his mask.

  Nancy stepped forward. Bess and George were at her sides. All around them were different sculptures covered in clear plastic sheets. “We have to ask you a few questions,” she said.

  “Que
stions about what?” The man pulled his mask off.

  “That sculpture that broke down the hall,” Bess said. She opened her sketch pad, ready to write down what the men had to say. “Did you hear anything around six fifteen? Any sounds next door?”

  The round man scratched his nose, getting even more blue paint on his face. “We were painting, and there was this loud thud. I could hear it on the other side of the wall, but I didn’t know what it was.”

  The man with the mask nodded. “It was strange. We were going to call the guard, but then we saw her run past.” He pointed out the arched doorway.

  Nancy looked through the clear sheet that covered the entrance. She could see a few shapes beyond it. Rita must have passed them as she went through the sculpture hall—but did the suspect pass them as well? “So, Rita ran that way, toward the sculpture hall. Did you see anyone else run past?”

  “No,” the man with the mask said. “We were here all day. Don’t know much more than that.”

  Bess scribbled some notes down. “Did you see anything else unusual tonight?”

  As the men thought about it, Nancy looked around the room, searching for anything that seemed strange. There were sheets on the floor, some rollers, and paint. If the men were here all day, the suspect probably didn’t come through.

  The man with the mask started painting again, turning the wall blue. “I don’t think so.”

  “No, there was!” the round man said. “Don’t you remember those two girls?”

  Bess leaned over to Nancy. “Two girls?” she whispered. “Do you think it could be Melody and Lena?”

  “What did they look like?” Nancy asked.

  The man with the mask pointed to the sculpture hall. “They were wearing matching uniforms. One had a long brown braid. We found them climbing on the scaffolding right by where that sculpture was.”

  The round man laughed, smacking a blue handprint onto his leg. “That’s right. I would bet you a hundred bucks those girls had something to do with it. We went in, and yelled at them. We told them to get down, but they wouldn’t listen.”