Part 6
“Both,” Amelia said.
Miriam called at six.
Nia advised Amelia not to answer.
Amelia answered anyway.
For several seconds, neither woman spoke.
Then Miriam said, “How are you?”
“Stable.”
“And the baby?”
“Stable.”
“I’m glad.”
Amelia heard voices behind her, then a door closing.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“At the museum.”
“Are you alone?”
“Not entirely.”
“Is counsel there?”
“Yes.”
“Is Victor?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Amelia looked at Daniel, who sat across the room with his laptop open but was no longer pretending to read.
“My account is disabled.”
“That is standard while we review—”
“Don’t.”
Miriam stopped.
“Is my report still on the server?”
“I have been advised not to discuss records.”
“Did you read it?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“Before the gala?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I intended to.”
“You came to the gala.”
“So did you.”
“I was working.”
“So was I.”
The answer was too sharp. Miriam softened her voice.
“Amelia, there are things you do not know.”
“That sentence has become popular.”
“I am trying to keep the museum from collapsing.”
“By hiding illegally trafficked objects?”
“By determining whether your conclusions are sound before they destroy an institution.”
“You taught me to write that report.”
“I taught you to be certain.”
“I am.”
“No. You are persuasive. That is not the same thing.”
Amelia gripped the phone.
Daniel stood, but she raised a hand to stop him.
“Did you alter the file?” she asked.
“What?”
“The report on the server.”
“No.”
“Did you remove it?”
“No.”
“Can you send me a copy?”
“I cannot.”
“Can you confirm the file still exists?”
Miriam exhaled slowly. “I cannot discuss this.”
“Then there is no reason for us to keep talking.”
“Amelia.”
“What?”
Miriam’s voice dropped. “Do not trust Vanessa.”
Amelia looked toward the front door.
“Why?”
“She has spent her entire adult life cleaning up after her family and calling it charity.”
“Is she lying about the warehouse?”
Silence.
“Miriam?”
“I have to go.”
The call ended.
Daniel crossed the room. “You were told not to answer.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because she would reveal more by trying not to.”
“And did she?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“She knows about the warehouse.”
“That was not what she said.”
“She warned me not to trust Vanessa instead of asking what Vanessa told me. That means she already knows Vanessa has something to say.”
Daniel considered it.
“That’s an inference.”
“Yes.”
“Nia said not to investigate.”
“I answered a phone call.”
“You turned it into an interrogation.”
Amelia put down the phone. “You married a curator.”
“I thought that meant we got free tickets.”
Despite herself, she laughed.
The laugh hurt her ribs.
Daniel sat beside her and pressed a hand gently against her back until the pain passed.
The next day, Detective Ortiz returned the silver invitation found near the staircase.
“It was logged with personal effects,” she said. “Your name was printed inside.”
Amelia took it.
The invitation had been bent at one corner. On the back, in her own handwriting, were three numbers:
D-4187
D-4191
D-4203
Daniel saw them. “What are those?”
“Crate accession numbers.”
Ortiz sat across from them at the dining table. “Important?”
“They correspond to the disputed objects.”
“Why write them on an invitation?”
“My phone was in my office. A registrar told me the numbers during the gala.”
“Which registrar?”
Amelia hesitated.
Nia had told her to cooperate with police but avoid exposing coworkers without understanding the consequences.
Ortiz noticed. “Someone gave you information and may now be at risk.”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
“Maya Chen.”
“What did she tell you?”
“That the database entries for those crates had been edited that afternoon.”
“By whom?”
“She didn’t know. She saw the change log.”
“Did she make a copy?”
“She said she would try.”
“Have you contacted her?”
“No. The museum ordered me not to.”
Ortiz’s mouth tightened. “A museum letter does not override a police investigation.”
“It can still cost her job.”
“Her job may already be in danger.”
Amelia turned the invitation over in her hands.
The silver surface had been designed to look expensive without being expensive. The museum ordered five hundred every year from a printer in Queens. Amelia had once argued that the money should be spent on school transportation grants. Vanessa had agreed with her, then approved the invitations anyway because donors liked weight in their hands.
Ortiz said, “We interviewed Ms. Hale.”
“Which one?”
“Vanessa. Victor declined through counsel.”
“What did Vanessa say?”
“That she restrained you. That she released you when you complained of pain. That she did not push you.”
“Did she tell you why she didn’t catch me?”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked toward the detective.
Ortiz added, “Her explanation was not flattering.”
“That makes it true?” Daniel asked.
“No. It makes it less likely to have been invented for sympathy.”
Amelia asked, “Will she be charged?”
“Not based on what we have.”
Daniel stood and walked to the kitchen.
Ortiz waited until he was out of earshot. “Your husband wants an answer the evidence may not give him.”
“So do I.”
“You seem more comfortable admitting it.”
“I work with gaps.”
“Does that help?”
“No.”
Ortiz placed a business card beside the invitation. “I’m referring the report information to investigators who handle financial and cultural-property crimes. That does not mean they will open a case. It means they will assess it.”
“What happens to my assault complaint?”
“You have not made one.”
“She grabbed me.”
“That may qualify. But you have been careful not to describe it as an assault.”
Amelia looked at the card.
“Do I have to decide now?”
“No.”
“Will waiting look suspicious?”
“To whom?”
“Everyone.”
Ortiz leaned back. “Everyone is not a jury.”
“Sometimes it is worse.”
The detective gave her a tired smile. “That part is true.”
May you like
Maya Chen disappeared from work the following Monday.
Her museum email returned an automated message stating she was on personal leave. Her phone went directly to voicemail. She did not answer texts from Amelia, Daniel, Nia, or Detective Ortiz.
