Part 21 (1/2)
”I don't think so, but he did say they were pretty much focusing all their efforts on getting a viable fingerprint from the body.”
”Is that even possible with burned fingers?”
”The experts believe they have a shot at it. Let's hope they know what they're talking about.” Storm grimaced. ”It's actually easier to look for a missing person than it is to I.D. a body when it's dumped somewhere other than a crime scene and the description doesn't match up with any listed missing person. Makes sense when you think about it.”
”Yeah. Got to have a place to start.”
”That's what Keane says. And he's frustrated as h.e.l.l about it. Anyway, that's it for now. You're up to speed.”
”Thanks.” Morgan lifted a hand in farewell and went on down the hall. She stopped at her office, discovering that her clipboard wasn't on her desk where she'd left it, then continued to the curator's office at the end of the hall. She found Chloe Webster there at Ken's desk, frowning down at paperwork. The frown vanished when she looked up to see Morgan in the doorway.
”Hey, are you all right? I heard you got mugged last night.”
Which was, Morgan decided, a safer version of what had happened than the truth. ”I'm fine. Actually, it all seems like something out of a nightmare now, as if it never happened.”
”You could have been killed.”
Quinn had said the same thing, Morgan remembered. ”I don't know-it happened so fast I didn't have time to be scared. Anyway, it's over now.” She glanced around at Ken's cluttered office. ”Have you seen my clipboard? It wasn't on my desk, so I figured-”
Chloe moved a stack of papers to one side. ”Is this it?”
”Yeah, thanks. Ken must have needed it. I really should have come in today.”
”I heard Mr. Bannister say an unscheduled day off never hurt anybody. Besides, as far as I can tell, there haven't been any problems.”
”You were frowning when I came in,” Morgan observed.
Chloe shook her head dismissively. ”Oh, I was just talking to Stuart Atkins-at the Collier Museum?-and he told me that several of the museums in the area have been having problems with their security systems. Alarms going off for no reason, things like that. But everything here seems fine.”
”Famous last words,” Morgan said.
”I know, that's why I'll tell Mr. Dugan and Mr. Bannister about the call. Just in case.”
Morgan nodded, agreeing that would be best. She continued on to her own office to return the clipboard to her desk and check all the status logs. Then she went in search of Quinn.
”I don't like it,” Max said.
”I didn't expect you would.” Quinn sighed and eyed the other man rather cautiously. ”Look, we both know Morgan's impulsive; I'd made her mad and she came to pour wrath all over me. She was smart enough to figure out where I was watching, and furious enough to come storming up the fire escape.”
”I know that, Alex.” Max s.h.i.+fted his broad shoulders just a bit in a rare movement that gave away his tension. ”What I don't know-and what you've been evasive about-is what Nightshade was doing on that fire escape. If it was was him, of course.” him, of course.”
The two men were standing in a gallery near the Mysteries Past Mysteries Past exhibit, out in the open so that no one could approach unseen, and both kept their voices low. exhibit, out in the open so that no one could approach unseen, and both kept their voices low.
Quinn hadn't exactly looked forward to this interview, but he'd known it would take place sooner rather than later; Max was far too intelligent to have missed the significance of what had happened last night.
As casually as possible, Quinn said, ”Didn't Jared explain?”
”No. He said you were too upset to talk about it last night when he came to relieve you. I got the feeling he had a few questions of his own.”
Quinn only just stopped himself from wincing. He thought Jared had more than a few questions by now, having had time to consider what Quinn remembered himself saying: Maybe he got suspicious of me and showed up tonight looking for me. Maybe he got suspicious of me and showed up tonight looking for me. . . . . . .
It was the only time in his entire career that Quinn could recall having been so disturbed-by Morgan's close call-that he spoke without thinking. And by now Jared had quite probably reached the conclusion that Nightshade's ident.i.ty was definitely no longer a mystery to Quinn.
Pus.h.i.+ng that aside to be dealt with later, Quinn cleared his throat and spoke in a convincingly frank tone. ”Well, it isn't so complicated, Max. Nightshade, if it was him, of course, was probably casing the museum-though I don't know how I could have missed it-and he must have seen me on the roof. I can't know what he meant to do, naturally, but it's obvious Morgan got in his way and so he put her to sleep for a little while. I heard something and came down before he could do anything else-and he left. That's all.”
Max never took his eyes off the other man's face. ”Uh-huh. Tell me, Alex: Do you you carry chloroform around at night?” carry chloroform around at night?”
”I've been known to,” Quinn admitted candidly. ”It's an efficient and nonlethal way of dealing with unexpected problems.”
”Does Nightshade carry it?”
”He did last night.”
After a long moment, Max said, ”Is Morgan in danger?”
Quinn answered that with genuine sincerity. ”I'll do everything in my power to make certain she's not.”
Max frowned slightly. ”You didn't answer my question.”
”I answered it the only way I could. Max, there are a few things I didn't exactly plan on in all this, and Morgan's one of them. It seems to be . . . more than usually difficult to predict what she might do at any given moment, so I can't be sure she won't charge up another d.a.m.ned fire escape. But I won't let anything happen to her.”
”Are you so in control of the situation that you can promise that?”
”Max-” Quinn broke off, then sighed. ”Look, after tonight, I'll know know how in control of the situation I am, and until then I can't give you an answer. You'll just have to trust me to know what I'm doing.” how in control of the situation I am, and until then I can't give you an answer. You'll just have to trust me to know what I'm doing.”
”All right,” Max responded slowly. ”I'll wait-until tomorrow.”
”That's all I ask.” With any luck, he'd think of something plausible by then. Either that or else figure out a way to avoid Max until this was finished. ”Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find Morgan.”
”Tell her I said h.e.l.lo.” Max waited until the other man turned away, then added, ”Alex? Did you steal the Carstairs necklace?”
Quinn wasn't imprudent enough to conjure a hurt expression or even to sound offended, but he did manage an utterly sincere answer. ”No, Max, I didn't steal it.”
Max didn't say another word; he merely nodded and watched the younger man walk out of the gallery. A moment later, he didn't react with surprise when Wolfe entered from the opposite end and joined him. Wearing his black leather jacket and a faint scowl, Wolfe didn't look much like a crack security expert-and even less so with a little blond cat riding on his shoulder.
But Max was familiar with the appearance (even to the cat, since Wolfe was often accompanied by Bear these days). Still gazing after Quinn, he said meditatively, ”I'm beginning to think Alex is lying to me.”
”Now you know how it feels,” Wolfe told him, unsurprised and not without a certain amount of satisfaction.
”I never lied to you. I merely withheld portions of the truth.”
”Yeah, sure.” Somewhat morosely, Wolfe added, ”Maybe Alex is doing the same thing. We both know he only lies about something when he's sure he's going to eventually come clean. If he's lying now, I'll bet it's because he's in deeper than he's told us.”
”I'd take that bet,” Max agreed. Then he sighed. ”And we may have another problem. Mother called. She's in Australia-but she's heading this way.”
Wolfe's face brightened, but that instant reaction was quickly altered by a scowl. ”The timing isn't exactly the best, Max. Couldn't you stop her?”