One Grave Less

safe here.”
    “Do we have to tell them?” said Madge Stewart.
    “Of course we have to tell them,” said Diane.
    She tried to keep her face straight and not show annoyance at Madge, who often seemed clueless about ordinary protocol and had a child’s view of candor in the face of calamity.
    Thomas Barclay, the banker member of the board, was usually at odds with everything Diane did, but only because he didn’t like anyone but himself to be in charge. The governance of the museum was set up so the board was only advisory and the director held all the power. Only in the most extraordinary conditions could her decisions be overridden, and that rankled his sense of self-importance. Barclay had been silent. Diane could see he was building up for something. But when he spoke it was a simple question.
    “What do the police think happened?” he asked.
    “That it was an attempted theft that went wrong,” said Diane.
    “And you’re saying they just waltzed in and took over,” said Barclay with a flourish of his hand. “What do we have security for if they can’t keep track of their own?”
    The dam that kept Barclay’s temper in check was developing a crack. It was Diane’s policy in these situations to encourage the dam to break. Laura Hillard, another board member who was a good friend of Diane’s from childhood—and a psychiatrist—had the opposite viewpoint. Whereas Laura liked to smooth over ruffled feathers, Diane liked to make them fly.
    “If they had been waltzing when they entered they would no doubt have attracted attention. As I briefed all of you earlier, the perpetrator who joined Diggs in responding to my call for security wore a uniform virtually identical to those our security people wear. Diggs is new on the job and didn’t realize the man with him wasn’t Vic Jones. The impostor never went near the security office, where he would have been outed. It appears he was secreted somewhere in the museum. We are still investigating.”
    “I think Thomas just wants to understand why security didn’t catch this person earlier—where he was hiding out,” said Laura, smiling sweetly at Diane.
    Diane gave her an amused half smile before she turned to Thomas Barclay. “Was that what you were asking?” she said.
    Barclay gave Diane a curt nod.
    “He could have worn a jacket or coat over the uniform and blended himself among participants in a class. We have several classes in session every evening. That is one of the challenges for our security people—guarding a place where the public is invited.”
    “Perhaps we should close down the classes,” Barclay said.
    “This is a museum, not a bank,” said board member Anne Pascal.
    Anne’s hands were flat on the table in front of her. Diane got the impression that she wanted to pound them on the wood surface. Anne was one of the newer members of the board and a schoolteacher. Diane liked her for many reasons, but she especially liked her for frequently being at odds with Barclay.
    “The classes are of value to the community and they are good for the museum,” said Anne.
    Barclay brought his gray bushy eyebrows together as if he were about to turn Anne down for a loan. “But if they pose a problem for security . . . ,” he began.
    “I didn’t say they pose a problem for security,” said Diane. “I said they pose a challenge.”
    “Same thing,” he said.
    “You think so?” said Diane.
    That explains so much , she thought. She didn’t speak it. Laura gave her a brief warning glare. Laura probably knew what Diane was thinking. Her face was easy to read.
    “We work from a different dictionary,” Diane said.
    Barclay huffed. “You know, you haven’t told us much of anything. Are you withholding information?”
    “Of course,” said Diane. “However, I’ve told you as much as the police will allow. They are very concerned about information leaks that would give the thieves an advantage.”
    “I’m sure they didn’t mean the board,” he said, taking in the whole group with a nod.
    “I’m sure they did,” said Diane. “Let’s face it—in the past the board has been a sieve.”
    Out of the corner of her eye Diane saw Madge shift uncomfortably when several members glanced her way. More than once, Madge’s loose tongue with the press had caused Diane problems. Laura, she saw, was about to throw up her hands and give up trying to rein Diane in. Diane didn’t mind making board members uncomfortable—at least, the ones who