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“Why don’t you tell us, perhaps we can help?” said Raven.
“Something’s gone missing.”
“Something important?” asked Raven.
“Priceless and irreplaceable. Now if you’ll excuse my haste, I’ll escort you out.”
Indy had noticed something earlier. “Could it involve the chair? The one with the blue lion’s-paw feet?”
Beauchamp stopped abruptly. From his reaction Indy could tell that she was right.
“Mon dieu, how could you know this?” asked Beauchamp.
“Because she’s very clever,” said Raven.
“I read your description of the chair and noticed it was missing from the exhibit. I thought perhaps you had it out for repair,” she explained.
“A chair?” asked Raven. “You’re so upset about a chair?”
“Not just any chair,” said Beauchamp. “A three-thousand-year-old Egyptian chair, preserved in nearly perfect condition in the chamber of a tomb. One of our most popular displays at the moment because its lines are so close to the fashionable Directoire style with its feet and curved roll back. The chair proved to be a powerful curiosity. This is quite a blow for the museum. And... it’s not the only item missing.”
“Who would steal from the Louvre?” asked Indy. “And for what purpose?”
“That’s a very good question.” Beauchamp’s eyes traveled over Raven’s face challengingly. “Why would anyone want to gloat over another’s misfortune?”
“We won’t tell anyone,” said Indy.
“Please don’t,” said Beauchamp.
“You have our word.” Indy inclined her head.
Beauchamp nodded distractedly and hurried away.
As they left the Louvre, Indy spoke in a low whisper. “It can’t be Beauchamp. Why would he stage that whole episode? The chair went missing and he was completely surprised.”
“Then why did he lie about the missing piece of the stone? He said he wasn’t keen to find it.”
“I can’t be certain that’s what we uncovered. It looked like a shape that might be right but the lighting was low and...”
“Don’t sympathize with that puffed-up buffoon.”
“What’s he ever done to you?”
“Nothing, I don’t like his attitude. I don’t like his smarmy smile and the familiar way he put his hand on your arm.”
“I put my hand on his arm.”
“Well, I didn’t like it.”
“You don’t own me.”
“I told him we were to be married and he still placed his hand on the small of your back to steer you. And don’t say he didn’t. I saw it clear as day. Don’t ever become his lover. You can do much, much better.”
“Oh I suppose you would be a better choice.” She said it angrily, but the second the words left her mouth she wished she could take them back.
“As a matter of fact, yes. Beauchamp would probably require a guidebook and a map to find your... uh... never mind.”
“The pearl in my oyster?” she supplied.
