Dead Past

missing in action. Nobody ever heard from him again. If there ever was a treasure, it got lost with him,” said her grandmother. She stopped talking and ate several bites of her cake.
    “The treasure hunters have slacked off for several years. Occasionally, we get a few now and again, but not like we did in the fifties.”
    “That’s an interesting story,” said Diane. “You think this might be the code?” She tapped the paper in front of them.
    “Who knows?” said Mrs. Torkel. “I don’t know of any other code, but I can’t say how it got in that doll. The doll’s not that old.”
    “Maybe some treasure hunter found the code and hid it in the doll,” said Juliet.
    “Do the Parrishes still live in Glendale-Marsh?” asked Diane.
    “No, they been gone from there for about thirty or forty years. Died out, mainly.”
    “Wow,” said Juliet. “Treasure right there and I didn’t know about it?”
    “We found lots of treasure in our shells,” said her grandmother. “They seem to have served you well. I imagine you’ve made more money from your interest in shells than you ever would from looking for treasure.”
    Diane finished the last bite of her cake. “Juliet . . . ,” began Diane.
    “I really don’t want to stay in a hotel,” said Juliet. “I will if I have to, but . . .”
    “I’ll have museum Security watch your apartment,” said Diane.
    “You think the guy who held you up for the doll is my kidnapper, don’t you?” said Juliet.
    “Yes,” said Diane, “I do. I don’t know how it all fits together, but I’m working on it. I really don’t want to alarm you, but I think he may be afraid you remember him.”
    “Why?” asked Juliet.
    Why? A good question, thought Diane. It was something else that had been nagging at the corner of her mind. Then, like the slow movement of molasses, it simply flowed into her brain.
    “I think it has something to do with what you said before you were kidnapped. In the newspaper articles, neighbors were quoted as having heard you say, ‘I don’t know you’ to someone near your backyard. Just before Joana Cipriano was murdered, she was heard to say to a man at her door, ‘Do I know you?’ The phrases are so close, I think her murderer was convinced he was recognized. Joana turned out to be the wrong person, but the conviction that you would be able to identify him carried over.”
    “You think it is about the treasure?” asked Juliet.
    “He wanted the doll. A code was in the doll. That’s the only story we’ve heard so far that contains a code. So, yes. It may be just a treasure story, but he may believe it to be true.”
    “So he was trying to get the doll when he kidnapped me twenty years ago?” said Juliet.
    “Maybe. We won’t know that until we find him. But the police are on it. We are taking precautions, so don’t you or your grandmother worry.”
    “Maybe we should stay in a hotel,” said her grandmother. “A nice one.”
    “Why don’t you do that?” said Diane. “I’ll have someone from museum Security stay next door.”
    “That sounds just fine,” said Mrs. Torkel. “They can follow us over to your apartment to get some things, Juliet. I’ll get a chance to see where you live, then we’ll stay in a nice hotel.”
    Juliet smiled at her grandmother. Diane got the idea that Mrs. Torkel had mellowed considerably since Juliet was a little girl.
    When they finished eating their cake, Diane took them to the Security office and arranged for an escort and guard. From there she went to her office and removed the evidence bag with the original code from her safe, put it in her pocket, and walked up to the top floor of the east wing to the museum library and archives.
    Beth, the museum’s librarian, was a slender middle-aged woman with snow white hair whom Diane had hired when she was eased out of the university library in favor of younger employees. Age discrimination was against university regulations, but being passed over for promotions, and other passive-aggressive measures, were hard to prove and to defend against. She was clearly Bartram’s loss and the museum’s gain.
    The door issued a gentle jingle as Diane opened it. Beth, holding a book, was standing on a tall library ladder. She looked down to see who had entered, placed the book on the shelf, and climbed down.
    She looked warm in her navy pantsuit. Diane shivered. Beth kept the library slightly cooler than Diane liked, but she apparently found it very