The Cloisters(74)

“Rachel,” I said. “We need to go outside and talk.”



* * *



We sat on a stone bench in the Bonnefont Cloister, looking out over the Hudson, our bare legs touching like schoolgirls.

“Leo’s been stealing,” I said. “From the museum.”

For a beat Rachel said nothing, refusing to meet my gaze, until finally she exhaled and said, “Are you sure?”

I explained how I had found the figurine, how I had checked storage.

“There are other works missing,” I said. “I checked. I checked the galleries and the loan logs. But there are too many missing objects for it to simply be a mistake. A disk brooch from the seventh century? A reliquary of Saint Elijah? Who would request those on loan?”

Rachel looked down onto the road that snaked below the ramparts. I had expected her to be more surprised, but she seemed resigned at the news.

“No, you’re right,” she said finally. “Those are all things that would be easy to remove. Have you talked to him about it?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Good,” she said.

“It gives him a motive.” I let it hang between us.

“It does. But right now they seem to think I had a motive. That’s why she’s here today, you know? Because she’s trying to rattle me. She thinks all this poking around will make a difference.” Rachel laughed, thin and hard. “When really, you’re the only one who’s managed to come up with a real theory. Something worth pursuing.”

I hadn’t thought about it like this, but she was right: I was trading Leo for her. Turning him in meant getting Rachel off the hook. It also meant more breathing room for us—for me—to finish our research.

“I still don’t see him as the kind of person who would poison someone,” I said. “Steal, yes. Murder, no.”

“But it makes the most sense, doesn’t it? He had the access and the opportunity. If Patrick had found out what was going on, he would have had motive too.”

I thought about the way Leo and Patrick were always cordial but distant. There was a coldness between them.

“Did Patrick ever mention that he suspected Leo of anything? Even something smaller?”

Rachel shook her head.

“He didn’t. But I don’t know if he would have.” Then she added more quietly, “Leo was always a sore subject between us.”

A hummingbird buzzed us before settling on a blooming salvia plant, its purple flowers pungent and earthy in the sun.

“Who do you think the tipster was?” I finally asked.

“Don’t you already know?” said Rachel, looking me in the eye.

I had already asked myself this question, and both Leo and Moira would have been happy to make that call.

“We should catch her before she goes,” Rachel said, standing and offering me her hand. I took it.

“Don’t you need your lawyer for that?”

“It’s your story, not mine,” she said.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


We found Detective Murphy in the staff offices talking to the director of educational programming. She simply raised an eyebrow before following us into an empty room usually reserved for weekly staff meetings, meetings that Patrick had always led.

“Don’t you need a lawyer present?” she said.

“There’s something you need to know.” I hadn’t imagined how I would put together the next few sentences, but I reminded myself that like any good academic, I should begin with my thesis and then move on to supporting materials.

“Leo has been stealing from the museum,” I said.

Detective Murphy was silent, but took out her notebook and flipped it open.

“Over the weekend, I found an object at Leo’s apartment. An object that belongs to The Cloisters. An ivory carving of Saint Daria,” I explained.

“Did you ask him about it?” Her pen still scratched against the paper.

“Yes. And he claimed it was his grandmother’s. But while going through storage today, I noticed we were missing an identical piece from the collection.”

“And you’re sure it’s not a replica?”

“I’m sure. But I also discovered that additional pieces were missing. Several brooches, pieces of jewelry, figurines—”

“I’m sorry,” said Detective Murphy. “Are you saying that Leo’s been stealing from The Cloisters? How could that be possible? It’s a museum. A major museum.”

“Items in storage are different,” I said. “They’re rarely put on display. Many of them are small. The size of your palm, or smaller. And while we have security cameras in storage, since it’s only accessed by staff, they’re not closely monitored. And it’s normal to have a handful of items in our collections missing—traveling shows, loans, restoration, rotational display. It probably wouldn’t be enough to raise a red flag at a museum as big as the Met.”

Detective Murphy made additional notes.

“Has Leo mentioned to you that he’s experiencing money issues? Any drug habits? Gambling? Debts?”

I shook my head. “He doesn’t have a lot of money, and certainly I never see him spending it.”

“How much does a gardener at The Cloisters make?”