Sleepless in Manhattan

by Melissa Hill

  Beth laughed. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Then her tone changed. ‘Danny hasn’t come home, by chance, has he?’ she asked. ‘I think he ended up staying at the office last night.’

  ‘Aye, I know, I saw him come in last night and leave just as quick. But no, not a sign of him this morning.’

  Beth breathed a bit deeper, not sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved that he wouldn’t be there when she got home. ‘OK, well thanks, and again, sorry about Jodi.’

  She prepared to head up to her apartment when Billy suddenly called her back. ‘Ah, hold on just a sec. A package came for you earlier. It must have been while you were out.’ The doorman turned round and headed towards a storage room just off the lobby where he typically left residents’ deliveries.

  ‘A package, you say?’ Beth repeated suspiciously.

  Billy emerged from the storage room with a brown paper-covered bundle about two by three feet across and rectangular in shape. ‘Yes. Here you go. And funnily enough, it was delivered by that same bike messenger from the other day – the one that I was a bit cagey about.’

  Beth’s radar went up. ‘The same bike messenger from the other day?’ The young guy who had made the delivery to her at Carlisle’s. And the same one (supposedly) responsible for delivering the anonymous tickets to the boat exhibition . . .

  ‘The very fella,’ Billy confirmed, his face not giving anything away.

  Beth reached for the package. It must have been delivered after she had left to meet Ryan. Had this all been co-ordinated? Had Ryan perhaps wanted to get her out of the apartment for when the messenger showed up?

  Or had the parcel been delivered by a messenger at all?

  Beth’s pulse quickened and she had to resist the urge to tear the parcel open there and then. Instead, she bid Billy goodbye and calmly made her way up to the twenty-eighth floor. By the time she reached her apartment her heart felt as if it might explode.

  Fumbling to put her key in the lock, she finally was able to get through her front door, throw her handbag on the ground and place the parcel on her dining-room table. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Beth clenched her shaking hands for a second before reaching forward and ripping open the paper.

  When she was finished unwrapping her treasure, she stared at her discovery and her breath caught in her throat.

  It was the young artist’s painting she had admired yesterday, the rendition of Monet’s San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk.

  Right then Beth knew for sure that she had been right. She had solved the clue last night. And this was how her secret admirer wanted to make sure she knew she was on the right track.

  She smiled triumphantly as she considered her latest reward.

  Ryan was right. Follow the signs. There were no coincidences.

  The Thomas Crown Affair. Beth thought hard about the latest movie riddle the painting’s arrival had presented.

  It was obviously a reference to the 1999 remake – not the original with Faye Dunaway and Steve McQueen, but the one with Rene Russo playing savvy Catherine Banning and Beth’s fellow countryman Pierce Brosnan as Thomas Crown. The two films, while of the same name, were vastly different.

  The original had portrayed Thomas Crown as a common bank robber, but in the 1999 version the character was played as a rich, cultured art thief. As well as a very slippery and smart art thief. Beth considered the painting. She put her right index finger on the canvas and felt the paint that had been used by the young Italian artist bubble up.

  His work was very good for an imposter of sorts, she thought, while, of course, it was easy to see that this wasn’t a real Monet. But Beth couldn’t understand why she suddenly felt so internally discombobulated.

  Imposter, she thought again. That was the word that was making her uneasy. But why? Obviously, she had solved the clue and figured out the right movie – exactly as she had been meant to. And this painting was supposedly pointing her in the direction of her next step.

  She propped the painted canvas up against the wall in her living room, allowing a curious Brinkley to come forward and give it a cursory sniff. Realizing it was nothing edible, the dog quickly lost interest and hopped up on the couch, sighing contentedly and closing his eyes for a snooze.

  But Beth was the exact opposite of her unconcerned dog. Energy coursed through her veins. She truly didn’t understand why she felt a sense of foreboding, but she figured the only way to rid herself of this feeling, and settle her mind, was to solve this clue.

  She went to her bedroom to retrieve her laptop and as she entered the room she momentarily smelled Danny’s familiar scent. He always wore Chanel Pour Homme. The fragrance was in the air as if he had just left the room, but she knew that not to be the case.

  Beth felt vaguely put off by the feeling and, as she picked up her laptop from the nightstand, she even looked back, confirming in her own mind that he wasn’t actually in the room with her.

  The spooky feeling was heightened further when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Her intuition was trying to tell her something, that much she knew, but what, she didn’t have any idea. The synapses in her brain were obviously not connecting.

  Trying her best to brush off the feeling of discomfort she was suddenly feeling, Beth returned to the painting in her living room.

  She picked up her phone as she booted up the laptop and called Jodi on her cellphone. She had to tell her friend what had happened and what she had found.

  Jodi finally answered on the fourth ring. She sounded sleepy, as if Beth had just woken her up.

  ‘Are you still in bed? Did I wake you?’ Beth asked, looking at the clock. It was almost midday, though she did know Jodi was on the later shift that day. Then she stifled a smile when she heard a man’s voice in the background. Obviously Trevor had come over last night when Jodi reached home – the reason her friend was still in bed.

  ‘I’m still in bed,’ said Jodi groggily. ‘But I wasn’t asleep. What’s up?’

  Beth got straight to the point. ‘I was right about the paintings,’ she said, and filled Jodi in on the rest of the story. When she finished, she admitted, ‘However, something’s still not sitting right with me.’

  Fully alert now, Jodi mumbled something to her bedmate and focused on Beth. ‘OK, so talk to me. What’s not adding up? You have confirmation that the movie in question is The Thomas Crown Affair. That’s good. And it’s an easy clue. I’ve seen that flick so I know that it’s all pretty obvious. The whole movie centres around the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Easy.’

  Beth knew that, but it was something else. It all felt too obvious to her, plus there was something more that she was reading into this clue as well. As much as she searched her memory, she couldn’t remember talking about The Thomas Crown Affair to Ryan at all. It was true there were other coincidences at play here, yet he himself had told her there were no coincidences. There was the mere fact that the painting had shown up while Ryan was taking her to brunch and making a very open effort about wooing her. And yes, obviously this entire hunt was focused on New York movie locations, but the clue continued to trouble Beth.

  ‘I thought about that, too. However, it’s not like the painting is actually there at the Met. The original one, I mean – that was just in the movie.’ She typed the painting’s title, San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk, into her laptop.

  ‘Are you in front of a computer?’ she asked Jodi.

  ‘I can be. Give me a second.’

  A moment later the two women were comparing the findings of their respective internet searches.

  ‘So the original is owned by, and apparently housed at the National Museum in Wales,’ said Beth. ‘That doesn’t do me any good.’ She sighed. ‘Again, simply going to the Met and wandering around feels way too obvious to me. I know the clue has to do with not just any painting but this one.’

  Jodi made some agreeable murmuring noises on the other end of the phone. ‘Right, no, I get you. It makes sense. But what if . . . ?’ her voice t
railed off.

  Beth felt eager to hear what Jodi was thinking. ‘What if what?’

  ‘Hold on. I’m just checking something out. Something just occurred to me.’

  Beth peered at the screen of her computer, wondering if Jodi was seeing something on her end that she apparently wasn’t seeing on hers. There seemed to be a considerable mountain of information out there about this painting – tons of essays on it, history on it, what Monet had been thinking and contemplating while he was working on it. But there wasn’t necessarily anything that was current and timely.

  ‘So think about it this way,’ Jodi said then. ‘If you feel very sure that this painting is part and parcel of the next step in the trail, then just learning a bunch of history about the painting isn’t going to suffice.’

  Beth pressed the phone to her ear. Jodi shared the thought that just occurred to her but it sounded as if her friend was on to something else too. And her suspicions were confirmed when suddenly Jodi let out a little squeal of satisfaction on the other end of the phone.

  ‘Bingo,’ she said.

  ‘What, what is it? What did you find?’ Beth flipped through Google pages – nothing was standing out.

  However, Jodi sounded determined to torture her a little longer, allowing the suspense to build. She wasn’t about to divulge her knowledge easily.

  ‘So you know how sometimes art collections, or individual works travel?’ she said to Beth eventually. ‘Obviously not everyone can drop what they are doing and head off to the Louvre or the Vatican Museum or the National Museum in Wales at a moment’s notice, yes?’

  Beth was having none of this drawing out the explanation. Jodi had this thing figured it out and if she knew what was good for her she seriously needed to tell her now. ‘Jodi, please, what is it? What are you looking at? What do you know?’

  ‘Do yourself a favour and leave the general web search. Instead click on “News” at the top of the page.’

  Beth returned to the search bar and immediately found what Jodi was talking about. With shaking fingers, she clicked on ‘News’.

  And there it was. The answer. A single news story.

  The headline of the New York Times article was dated almost two weeks ago and read: ‘Venetian History Exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art Features Famed Monet Painting’.

  And that painting was San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk.

  It was currently on display here in New York for the holiday season. Part of a display featuring the history of Venice.

  There’s this great new exhibition at the Met . . .

  Ryan had talked about that very same exhibition earlier, had even asked her if she wanted to come along! Did he realise that she was having trouble figuring out the clue, and that the penny would drop if she saw it at the exhibition.

  And when that happened, he would be right by her side . . .

  It really was Ryan, Beth realized. He had arranged this whole thing; the current clue as well as his words this morning merely hammered that home.

  ‘Jodi, you’re brilliant,’ she gasped breathlessly, feeling true admiration for her friend as another feeling blossomed in her chest. And Beth knew exactly what the feeling was.

  She was about to discover all the answers. She just knew it.

  The hunt was coming full circle.

  ‘You can say that again, Sherlock. Get yourself together. Dr Watson will meet you there.’

  ‘Follow the signs . . .’ Beth whispered to herself, as she got ready to head to the Met.

  Chapter 33

  Beth wasn’t sure how Jodi was able to accomplish it, but her Bronx-based friend had actually beaten her to the Metropolitan Museum of Art by the time Beth’s cab pulled up in front of the famous building located at 1000 Fifth Avenue. But then again, she’d probably just come from Trevor’s on the Upper East Side.

  Jumping out of the cab, Beth glanced down the street and realized that they had literally only been blocks away the evening before, while in Central Park searching for this clue. Indeed, Bethesda Terrace emptied out onto East 72nd Street, and here she was ten blocks north of that.

  Ten blocks – and something big is going to happen in there. I just know it. I feel it in my bones, Beth thought. She peered up at the building.

  Once I walk those stairs and go inside, there is a good chance I might come out a different person. My destiny lies within the museum.

  Her hands shook at the thought.

  Destiny. She could almost hear the movie soundtrack swell in the background.

  ‘Come on, Beth, what are you waiting for? I already bought our tickets. The suspense is killing me,’ cried Jodi as she jogged down the stairs, watching her step carefully as her heels were not made for jogging. She rushed forward and thrust an admission pass into Beth’s hand and then grabbed her by the elbow. ‘Seriously, let’s go. I would have thought you would be moving faster. After all, this is your treasure hunt and—’

  ‘Jodi, hold on a second,’ said Beth, pulling back from her friend’s grasp. She stood unmoving, staring up at the museum’s façade. ‘I need to catch my breath – just for a second.’

  Her friend turned to her with a quizzical look on her face. ‘Are you having second thoughts about going in? But if you don’t, you won’t be able to locate the next clue.’

  Beth bit her lip and considered Jodi’s words, unsure as to whether or not she should tell her she was now almost certain that it was Ryan. ‘I think this might be it. I think this is the finale.’

  Tilting her head in confusion, Jodi said, ‘What do you mean, the finale? You mean the end of the hunt? What makes you think that?’

  Beth swallowed hard. ‘I just have a feeling that this is it. That whatever is waiting for me in there is going to change things. Ryan said it himself – there are no coincidences. I think I know what I’ll find in there; I think I’ve known it for a long time.’

  Jodi folded her friend into a hug. ‘You don’t have to go in then. Not if you’re scared. Not if you don’t want this.’

  Beth accepted the embrace but shook her head. ‘It’s not that I’m scared. That’s not it. It’s something else. Excitement? Yes. Trepidation. That, too.’

  ‘You sound like a bride on her wedding day,’ Jodi smirked, and Beth sucked in a breath. The butterflies in her stomach increased the speed of their wings and Beth steeled herself.

  ‘That’s it. It’s now or never. Show time.’

  Beth and Jodi walked through the entryway of the first floor of the museum and headed to the information desk to snag a map.

  ‘This place is huge,’ Jodi commented. ‘It’s been years since I’ve been here. How’s that for a born-and-bred New Yorker?’

  Beth fixed her stare on the map. ‘A lot of the permanent galleries are on the first floor. That much I know.’

  Scanning her eyes across labels indicating ‘Egyptian Art’ and ‘Impressionist Gallery’, she turned her attention to a list of special exhibitions outlined in the margin and quickly found what she was looking for. ‘There it is: “Legends of Venetian History”. It’s back here – in galleries 950 through 960.’

  ‘Furthest point in the building,’ Jodi muttered glumly, looking at her feet. ‘Figures. I should have worn ballet flats.’

  But Beth couldn’t concentrate on her friend’s footwear concerns – she was completely focused on her goal and took off in front, making a beeline for the furthest galleries on the first floor.

  The museum was busy with tourists and extra crowds in town for the holidays.

  ‘This place is packed. Now I remember why I don’t go to tourist hotspots in New York. Case in point, don’t you think?’

  Beth agreed that it was indeed busy, but she also knew that somewhere amongst that crowd was the answer to her puzzle. She just had to make it to the Venetian exhibition and, once she was there she was sure that she would find whatever she was looking for.

  Or whomever, her inner voice clarified, reminding her of the belief that this clue would provide her wit
h all the answers she needed about this entire adventure.

  Giddy with anticipation, Beth noticed that her palms were sweating and she had a brief flashback of the kiss that Ryan had placed on the back of her hand that morning.

  There are no coincidences, the same little voice in her mind reminded her once again – repeating it like a mantra. However, the voice went silent the moment that the doorway to the far galleries appeared before her. Beth stopped in her tracks and Jodi bumped into her back.

  ‘What are you stopping for?’ she asked sharply. ‘Come on, we’re here.’

  Outside of the gallery entrance stood a museum docent, handing out programmes to the special exhibition. Beyond, Beth spied colourful and beautifully ornate Venetian masks – the same kind as the one that was in her bedroom – and she couldn’t help feeling once again melancholy as memories flooded her brain. Venice. How ironic. The city and its themes were almost a constant backdrop to her and Danny’s relationship – for good and bad.

  No coincidences, she reminded herself once more. She was on the right path, she just knew it. She took a deep breath and continued on behind Jodi, who took two programmes and handed one to Beth. Beth opened the small booklet and flipped through it. She scanned a list of the art that was on display and soon found what she was looking for.

  San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk was the showcased work in gallery 955.

  She pointed at the map. ‘This is where we have to go. Here.’

  Jodi nodded, taking in her surroundings. Her eyes were wide as saucers she looked at all of the beautiful masks on display. ‘This stuff is amazing.’

  Beth nodded and swallowed hard. ‘It’s representative of the city. Probably one of the most beautiful places I have ever been in my life. I’ll never forget it.’

  A second wave of bittersweet sadness washed over her. No, she would never forget Venice. Never forget her time with Danny there.

  But Beth wasn’t going to live in the past any more – she lived in the present. And she had to get on with her life. No matter what that entailed.

  ‘Come on. Follow me,’ she urged Jodi, willing herself to put the melancholy out of her mind. It seemed as if fate was playing a cruel trick on her just then. Placing a clue from this treasure hunt deep within a display of fantastic Venetian artefacts and history.