“That’s one possibility,” I said. “But it’s also possible the intruder saw you were away from your desk, found the keys, and took them. The other question is, who would know you had the keys and where they were?”

Melba thought about that for a moment. “People are always dropping by to chat,” she said slowly. “This drawer gets opened a lot, because it’s where I keep aspirin and antacids and stuff like that. People come by all the time asking for things because they know I keep them on hand.”

“Then anyone could have seen the keys in the drawer,” I said. “But how would they know what they’re for?”

“Because I had a tag attached to them that said ‘Archive, ’” Melba said, sighing. “Labeled on both sides, of course.”

“You always lock your desk at night?” I wanted to be sure.

“Yes, of course I do.”

“And the lock hasn’t been tampered with?”

“No, it hasn’t, or I would have noticed this morning.” Melba was getting a bit testy with this drawn-out interrogation.

“Sorry, just trying to get the facts straight.” I smiled, and she relaxed. “Various people have access to this office after hours, but your desk is kept locked. That rules out someone coming in after hours to get the keys.”

“Sounds reasonable to me,” Melba said.

Diesel, apparently annoyed by the lack of attention, reached out and prodded Melba’s arm with his paw. She smiled as she rubbed his head.

“Therefore the intruder must have swiped the keys while you were away from your desk late yesterday afternoon.

“The boxes weren’t in there until around two, and at that point very few people even knew they were there.” I frowned. “Either the intruder saw the boxes being moved over here from the loading dock at Hawksworth and asked Rick and his guys about them, or else it was probably the eavesdropper. Remember?”

Melba shivered. “That was creepy.”

“There could be some other explanation, but that’s all I can think of at the moment.”

“You need to tell Peter about this,” Melba said.

“I know. I think we also need to get the locks changed right away. You think he’ll go for that?” With Peter, one never knew.

“I don’t see why not,” Melba said. “He’s due at a meeting at nine-thirty, but he should have time to talk to you now. He got here a few minutes before you and Diesel.” She buzzed his office.

When Peter answered, Melba told him I needed to talk to him about something urgent. She listened for a moment. “Go on in,” she said, hanging up the phone. “I’ll keep an eye on Diesel.”

“Thanks,” I said. I got up, a bit reluctantly. I did not relish repeating all this to Peter, because he could be amazingly obsessive sometimes about the tiniest details. I might be in for an extended inquisition.