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Mike said, “Do you know what he is saying?”
Nicholas said, “The gist of it, yes. Trust me when I say it’s not appropriate for polite company.”
Ben said, “Mr. Anatoly, I’ll get an agent to escort you and Mr. Campbell out. We’ll talk again soon.”
He looked directly into the camera, an eyebrow arched.
The feed went dark.
Nicholas said, “Anatoly lied through his teeth about knowing Elaine, and not seeing Kochen recently, but his shock and surprise at being accused of trying to steal the Koh-i-Noor seemed quite genuine. He wasn’t aware the diamond’s missing.”
“But maybe he set the whole thing up. Maybe he was somehow using Inspector York and Kochen, but things fell apart and he had them both murdered. Don’t forget the seven sons.” She added after a brief pause, “But here’s the problem: shooting Kochen full of cyanide? That doesn’t sound at all like Anatoly.”
24
The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Jewel of the Lion gala
Thursday evening
The streets around the Met glittered under the lightly falling snow and the abundance of jewels and fabulous dresses lighting up the place. Limousines and taxis crowded Fifth Avenue. Some brave souls had defied the elements and were walking in. The paparazzi’s flashbulbs were going a mile a minute, making it look like a disco ball spinning outside the doors.
Mike watched the guests drift in, a steady line of Manhattan’s elite, plus celebrities and their acolytes, and several flamboyant arty-looking types—models, most likely—showing highlights from the latest fashion lines.
Nicholas said behind her left shoulder, “Your dress is quite lovely.”
She turned, nearly cocked a hip, and almost said, “This old thing?” but stopped, since it was too close to the truth.
“Satin keeps well in closets, thankfully. You’re quite dapper in your tux as well.” Understatement of the century. His tux fit him perfectly. Fact was, he looked hot and dangerous and very 007. She wanted him to shoot his cuffs and order a dry martini. She said, “At least we don’t look like Feds on the hunt.”
“Speak for yourself, Agent Caine.”
“And there’s really nothing for us to hunt, just keep our eyes open. Not that I’m whining—we don’t get to attend hoity-toity events like this very often. Nicholas, there’s my boss, Milo Zachery, over by the stairs. In the red bow tie, with sandy hair? You need to meet him.” She clicked her comms unit in her ear and said, “Sir, I’m sending Nicholas Drummond to you right now.”
Mike watched him thread his way through the crowds, all smooth grace and focus, and saw women double-take as they saw him, and she couldn’t say she blamed them.
Nicholas came to a halt beside Zachery and his red bow tie. “I’m Drummond, sir. It’s good to meet you.”
“Ah, Drummond, excellent,” Zachery said, and shook hands. “I’m so sorry about Inspector York.” He bent his head closer and said quietly, “I heard Andrei Anatoly had an absolute fit when you asked him about having planned to steal the diamond. Ben told me he thought the old buzzard was clear of this crime. You agree?”
Nicholas nodded. “As Mike said, it doesn’t mean he didn’t want to run the race, he simply didn’t make it out of the starting gate in time.”
“Your uncle’s in the comm center. Ah, there’s Agent Sherlock by the bar. I bet Agent Savich isn’t far away. Bo tells me you’ve already met them online.”
Sherlock’s gorgeous red hair was done up on top of her head with curls hanging down over her ears. Along with dangling black earrings and a nicely fitting black dress, she presented a picture that made her stand out in the crowd. Nicholas thought she looked more dramatic in person, more vibrant.
As for Savich, Nicholas thought he was simply more in person, a big, tough man who looked hard as nails, a man he’d want at his back in a dark alley. He looked like he could brawl with the best of them.
Sherlock caught them watching and waved. He nodded in return. Zachery said, “Go fill them in.”
Nicholas nodded. “I wanted to thank you, sir, for letting me help.”
“If I’d said no, Bo would have grilled me like a steak,” Zachery said, “and I’m scared of your uncle.”
Nicholas said, “I am, too.” He went back to Mike and held out an arm. “Come on, let’s go talk to the computer king of the universe.”
“I want to worship at Sherlock’s feet. I still can’t get over how she nailed the crime scene.”
