Chương 7
Nothing had become simple enough to hate.
“Did my father sign her termination?”
“He did.”
“Did he tell her why?”
“He told her he had no choice.”
“There is always a choice. That’s what you’re trying to tell me, isn’t it?”
Arthur looked at his hands.
“I am trying not to tell you anything that makes me appear better than I was.”
Celeste picked up one shoe and turned it by the heel. A small dark mark had appeared near the toe where the briefcase corner had brushed it.
“What happened to the investigation?”
“It ended.”
“The claimant family?”
“They were never notified.”
“The painting stayed.”
“Yes.”
“And my father spent the next sixteen years carrying around a letter addressed to me.”
“We don’t know when he wrote it.”
“You knew there was a letter.”
“I knew he intended to write one.”
“Why didn’t he tell me himself?”
Arthur’s answer came slowly. “Because you loved him.”
She stared at him.
“That is not an answer.”
“It was the answer he gave me.”
Celeste put the shoe down.
Outside the office, Daniel knocked once and entered.
“Noah’s aunt is here,” he said.
Arthur rose.
Celeste stayed seated. “Does she know?”
“Not yet,” Daniel said. “She knows her nephew took a valuable case from a storage unit, went to a gala alone, and ended up with police. That has been enough for one evening.”
Arthur moved toward the door.
Celeste stopped him. “You will not speak to that child without his aunt, an attorney, and someone from the museum present.”
Arthur looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because you already destroyed one member of his family while claiming to protect this institution.”
He accepted the words without lowering his eyes.
“All right.”
Renee Bennett arrived wearing hospital scrubs beneath a red wool coat. She was Mara’s older sister by seven years and carried anger like an emergency supply. When Daniel brought her into the reading room, she crossed directly to Noah, took his face between both hands, and inspected him as if the museum might have removed pieces.
Then she slapped the back of his head lightly.
Noah blinked.
“You stole my train card.”
“I borrowed it.”
“You left me a grocery receipt.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I told you sorry comes later.”
She pulled him against her. Her arms shook once around his shoulders, then became firm.
Noah’s face disappeared into the red coat. He had spent the evening preventing himself from crying before Celeste Vale, two police officers, a board chairman, and a room full of strangers.
He cried against his aunt because she was angry enough to make it safe.
Renee held him until he stopped.
Then she turned toward everyone else.
“Who accused him?”
Celeste had entered behind Arthur. She stood in the doorway holding her shoes in one hand.
“I did,” she said.
Renee looked her up and down. “Of course you did.”
Celeste’s face hardened. “I believed he had property taken from my father’s archive.”
“He’s wearing a hoodie that belonged to his dead mother and holding a case older than he is. You believed whatever made the room comfortable for you.”
“Renee,” Noah said.
“No. We are not doing manners first.”
Daniel moved slightly closer but did not interfere.
Celeste set her shoes on the floor. “I was wrong to confront him publicly.”
Renee waited.
Celeste swallowed. “I was wrong to reach for the case.”
“That was almost an apology.”
“It was an acknowledgment.”
“Rich people always invent a smaller word.”
Noah wiped his face with his sleeve.
Arthur spoke. “Ms. Bennett, I owe you an explanation.”
Renee turned on him.
“You owe my sister one.”
“Yes.”
“She’s at Saint Matthew’s Cemetery. Section H, third row from the service road. You can explain it there.”
Arthur’s face changed.
Renee noticed but did not soften. “Did you get her letter?”
“Yes.”
“Then you knew she was scared.”
“Yes.”
“And you waited for her to walk into your palace alone.”
“I arranged for officers to be present.”
“How generous.”
“I did not know she had died.”
“You knew she was sick.”
“No.”
Renee looked at Noah. “Did you tell him?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She faced Arthur again. “Then the first honest thing in this room is that you did not know enough because you stayed away.”
Arthur nodded.
Martin Greaves entered, accompanied by Andrea. Renee turned before he could speak.
“And who are you?”
“Martin Greaves, chair of the museum’s board.”
“Were you there when my sister got fired?”
Martin’s expression remained composed. “I served on the board at the time.”
“That means yes.”
“The circumstances were more complicated than you have been told.”
Renee laughed. “You haven’t told me anything.”
Andrea stepped forward. “Ms. Bennett, the materials in the case may be subject to competing legal claims. The museum is prepared to arrange independent counsel for Noah and for Mara’s estate.”
“Paid for by the museum?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“It would ensure—”
“It would ensure your lawyer gets to choose the other lawyer.”
Andrea paused. “You are entitled to select your own counsel.”
“With what money?”
No one answered.
Renee looked around the reading room, at the walnut table, the archival lights, the quiet machines controlling temperature and humidity.
“My sister spent sixteen years saving papers for people who would charge us to argue over them.”
Noah touched her sleeve. “There’s a letter for Celeste.”
Renee glanced at the sealed envelope.
“And one for Arthur,” he added.
Renee looked at Arthur. “He can wait.”
Ortiz explained that the police would secure the case overnight while seeking guidance from the district attorney’s office. No one was being charged. Noah had entered the museum with a valid invitation and had not concealed the case. The storage unit was legally part of Mara’s estate, though Renee had not completed probate paperwork.
“Can he go home?” Renee asked.
“Yes.”
“Can they take the case?”
“No.”
“Can the museum?”
“No.”
“Can Mr. Greaves?”
Martin’s jaw tightened.
“No,” Ortiz said.
May you like
“Good.”
Noah looked at the briefcase. The open lid had been lowered but not locked. He had slept with it beside his bed the previous night. Leaving it felt like abandoning an animal at a clinic.
