The Borgia Dagger Read Free

sixty percent. But it all belongs to me now, and I've decided the paintings would spruce up the house."
    I wonder what the curator says about this, Frank thought.
    He soon found out. As they approached the museum, they noticed a group of five men gathered around a truck at the side of the building. Four of them wore plain gray uniforms and were trying to load large crates onto the truck. The fifth was a stocky man in a dark blue suit and wire-rimmed glasses. As the workmen brought the crates to the truck, the fifth man was shouting and gesturing angrily, his thinning blond hair flopping in front of his reddened face. It appeared that he was trying to keep the men from working.
    "This is the last straw," Tessa muttered under her breath. "I have to talk to the fat guy," she said to Frank.
    Frank drove up a circular driveway to the side of the museum and Tessa hopped out. "Albert, Albert," she said, shaking her head. "What are you doing to these poor men?"
    The man wiped his brow with a handkerchief and pushed up his glasses. "Miss Carpenter, may I remind you that this artwork is on permanent loan to the museum—as per our agreement with your family, signed thirty years ago by your grandfather! As curator, I cannot let these out of my sight!"
    Tessa nodded patiently, "Albert, you yourself said you couldn't find this so-called agreement, remember?"
    "You've got to give me some time! After the fire last year, we moved all our old files to the warehouse upstate, and many things got mixed up - "
    "Look," Tessa said, continuing, "you've seen a copy of my parents' will. The collection belongs to me now, and I want it back. Besides, don't you think you've had these things long enough? Maybe it's time to redecorate."
    "Redecorate? Young lady, we are talking about a museum, not a bedroom! These are priceless paintings and sculptures—the museum is nothing - without them!"
    Tessa let out a lighthearted laugh. "Oh, please don't take it so seriously! You should just be glad you had them for so long!"
    "Glad we had them! Why, your actions are illegal. Your parents would never have allowed this."
    As the man stammered in shock, one of the workmen tried to push past him. "Come on, Mr. Ruppenthal, this stuff is heavy. Listen to the girl." -
    "Over my dead body," Ruppenthal said, shoving the workman back.
    Thrown off balance, the workman fell onto the ground. "Okay, buster," he said as he picked himself up, "if you say so."
    With that, he let loose with an uppercut that caught Ruppenthal squarely in the jaw. After Ruppenthal fell, three museum officials rushed out of the building to come to his aid. One of them sank a fist into the workman's stomach, sending him flying into a crate.
    Rubbing his jaw, Ruppenthal yelled, "Watch it, Felipe! That's the Rodin statue!"
    Instantly a melee broke out — workmen against museum staff. Ruppenthal darted around, trying to move the artwork out of the way.
    Frank watched the scene in amazement. "I'm going to try to stop this! You call Joe from the corner pay phone!" he said to Callie, and he ran toward the fight.
    He pulled Felipe off one of the workmen. Then he spun around just in time to see another workman running toward him with his fists balled.
    "I don't believe we've met," Frank said, extending his right hand. The workman uncorked a haymaker, which Frank easily ducked, sending the man tumbling.
    "Ease up, fellas, let's talk this over!" Frank shouted to no avail. A museum worker jumped on him from behind, trying to wrestle him to the ground. But Frank remained upright, lifting the man off his feet and hurling him in the direction of Tessa, who was watching wide-eyed while backing away toward Callie's car.
    Within moments came a welcome sound — the high-pitched wail of a police siren. Frank looked up the driveway to see two familiar sights — the patrol car of Officer Con Riley and the Hardy brothers' black van.
    "All right, boys, playtime is over!" Officer Riley's voice barked over the patrol car's