All Gone

by Joel Goldman

  “Not here,” Cassie hissed.

  Jake smiled, keeping his eyes on Sarah. He didn’t want to look at Cassie for fear that her glare would melt him. “Oh, sure. Of course. We should go somewhere private. Your office, maybe.”

  “Yes, let’s do that,” Cassie said. She put her hand on Jake’s arm, squeezing until he flinched. “But I need to have a word alone with Jake first. We’ll meet you upstairs.”

  Before Sarah could respond, a man appeared at her side. “Excuse me, Dr. St. James?”

  “Now what?” muttered Cassie under her breath.

  It was the man she’d seen the day before staring at her and Sarah from the bottom of the stairs. He offered his hand.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Dr. St. James. I’m Inspector Gerald Murdoch. Metropolitan Police.”

  EIGHTEEN

  SARAH DREW IN QUICK, inadvertent gasp. “Pleased to meet you too… Inspector.”

  “Allow me to congratulate you on a wonderful exhibit.”

  “So kind of you to say.”

  Murdoch leaned in closer, crowding her just a bit. “I’m wondering if I could have a word with you alone. It will only take a moment.”

  Sarah cast a quick glance at Cassie, who stepped forward, gazing into the detective’s face.

  “You look so familiar. Where do I know you from? I know! I saw you here yesterday, in the exhibit. Right?”

  “Yes. I believe you did. And who may you be?”

  “Cassie Ireland. Global Security.”

  “Global Security? Afraid I’m not familiar with it.”

  “No reason you would be. Insurers hire us to do security audits of the companies and institutions they insure. Our clients prefer we keep a low profile.”

  Jake edged between. “Nice to meet you, Inspector. I’m Jake Carter. Cassie and I work together at Global.

  The detective raised his eyebrows. “Two security agents? I hope there’s no cause for concern.”

  “Of course not,” Jake said. “But we can’t be too careful since the Library has one of the world’s greatest collections. We’re just here on a routine audit.”

  “And is the Library’s collection being well cared for?”

  “Top marks.”

  Murdoch smiled. “A bit odd, isn’t it, to conduct an audit during an exhibit like the Magna Carta?”

  “That’s the best time,” Jake said. “Especially since we never tell the insured in advance that we’re coming. Look around. The place is packed. Gives us a great chance to see how the Library handles a high-profile event like the Magna Carta exhibit.”

  “I see, of course. Then I’m sure you noticed the problems with the display cases.”

  Sarah’s eyes fluttered. “Problems? What problems?”

  “Yesterday when I was here, I had a chance to take a close look at the Magna Carta display. In fact, I must say I took such a close look that a guard had to remind me to stay behind the rope line.”

  “Don’t worry, Inspector,” Sarah said. “We promise not to have you arrested.”

  Murdoch chuckled. “That’s quite decent of you but, as I was saying, I did get a close look and, if I’m not mistaken, the sensors inside the display cases were discolored as if they’d been subjected to high temperatures, which as I’m sure you know, would render them useless. Just the sort of thing that would turn up in a security audit, wouldn’t you say, Ms. Ireland?”

  “Absolutely. I assure you the display cases were among the first things we examined.”

  “Ah, then you no doubt also saw that someone had cut or sliced through the acrylic covers protecting the Magna Cartas.”

  Cassie cocked her head and furrowed her brow. “Um, actually we didn’t find any evidence of that or that the sensors were discolored.”

  Murdoch hesitated, studying Cassie, then turned to Sarah. “Nonetheless, I hope you’ll indulge me, Dr. St. James. Let’s have a look, shall we? I’d hate for the Library’s insurers to spend what I assume is a substantial sum of money on an audit that missed something so important. Don’t you agree?”

  Sarah folded her arms against her chest. “Indeed…I mean, of course. Let’s do that.”

  Murdoch led the way. When he stepped in front of the rope line, a security guard came toward them until St. James waved him off. Murdoch leaned over the hooded cases and then dropped to one knee, peering intently through the glass.

  “It can’t be,” he muttered as he stood. “It can’t be.”

  “I’m sorry, Inspector,” Cassie said. “What is it that can’t be?”

  Murdoch removed his glasses, wiping them with his handkerchief. “Well, it’s just that…”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the sensors or the acrylic covers?” Cassie asked.

  “No, there doesn’t appear to be. Tell me, Dr. St. James, has anyone serviced the display since yesterday morning, perhaps replacing the sensors and the covers?”

  “Why, no. There was no reason.”

  He sniffed. “Quite right. No reason.” He paused looking again at the Magna Cartas and then at Sarah. “I don’t believe I mentioned that I spent a good part of my career assigned to the Arts and Antiquities unit.”

  “No, you didn’t,” said Sarah.

  “My apologies. Among other things, we investigated thefts and forgeries of…well…of arts and antiquities, priceless objects like these.” He swept his hand the length of the display cases.

  “That’s good to know,” Jake said. “We’ll be sure and give you a call if anything turns up missing during our audit.”

  “I’m afraid you’d have to call someone else. Last year, I was transferred to the Serious Crimes Command. Homicide, rape, that sort of thing. Makes me long for the arts, truth be told.” He sighed and straightened his coat.

  “In that case, I definitely hope we don’t need to call you,” Jake said. He tilted his head toward the crowd waiting to see the exhibit. “These folks are getting restless. Maybe we should move along and give them a turn.”

  Murdoch stared at him, his mouth turning down. “Yes, indeed. Can’t keep the patrons waiting, can we? One last thing before we go, Dr. St. James.”

  “Yes?” she said.

  “Might I have a look at the Magna Cartas after hours…with the hoods on the display cases open?”

  For a fraction of a second, her head tick-tocked back and forth like she was dodging a punch. “Whatever for, Inspector?”

  “I’m also a bit of a history buff and I’ve always had a special place in my heart for the Magna Carta. Can’t think of a document more precious to an Englishman. Call it a courtesy from one rare documents lover to another.”

  Cassie interjected. “I’m sorry, Inspector but I’m afraid that’s not possible. The Magna Cartas are very fragile and our client’s insurance policy is quite specific on how they are the displayed and handled. Only authorized Library personnel are permitted to examine them and then only under strict environmentally controlled and secure conditions. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Of course, of course. Don’t know what I was thinking. Can’t blame a policeman for being curious, now can you.” He touched his finger to his brow. “Good day.”

  NINETEEN

  JAKE STARTED TO SAY SOMETHING when Cassie raised her palm. “Not here.” Then she turned to Sarah. “We need to go back to your office.”

  Sarah eyed her watch. “Of course. I’m supposed to interview an applicant for an archivist position in ten minutes. I can get out of it if you need me.”

  Cassie shook her head. “Go. Do your job like it’s any other day. We’ve got this.”

  “All right. And, please, my office is your office.”

  Jake followed Cassie. Each time he caught up to her, she found another speed, ignoring his requests to slow down and talk to him. When he grabbed her elbow, she shook him off. Once in Sarah’s office, the door shut tight, Cassie paced, arms crossed, refusing to look at him.

  “Why are you so upset?” Jake said. “That went about as well as it possibly
could have under the circumstances.”

  Cassie stopped pacing, dropping her arms to her sides, squinting at him. “You have no idea what the circumstances are.”

  “I would if you told me.”

  “You’re missing the point. I don’t want to tell you.”

  “I get that. But I know someone stole the Magna Cartas and the ones on display are fakes. And now that Sarah and the cop know we’re partners…”

  Cassie raised her palm, stopping him. “They think we’re partners because you told them we were. Forget that it’s both ridiculous and a lie, it could ruin what I’m trying to do here and cost me my job.”

  Jake was taken aback by the anguish in her voice. “I’m sorry. I just thought after the last time...” He shook his head. “I know it sounds corny, but I never felt more alive.”

  “I don’t do what I do so you can feel more alive, Jake. People tried to kill you and they failed. You had an adventure. It’s over. You’re a poker player. You’re supposed to know when to fold.”

  He nodded. “Okay, you’re right. I’m out. Take care of yourself.” He opened the door.

  “Wait! What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Leaving. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Ugg! You can’t go, not after you told Sarah that you’d been assigned to this case. She’ll think we don’t know what we’re doing and she’ll wonder if I can do the job without your help. We lose the client’s confidence, we lose the client and the case.”

  Jake brightened. “Well, we wouldn’t want that to happen. And, you have to admit, we make a great team.”

  “You’re a problem, not a teammate. I’m stuck with you until I can figure something else out.”

  He reached for her. She backed away until she was against the wall. He leaned in and put his hands on her arms. Her biceps tightened and she turned her head to the side. He guided her chin back to center, leaning his forehead against hers, feeling the tension in her body slip away.

  “If you’re stuck with me, you might as well let me help.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Let’s just say until you figure something out.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like we make a good team.”

  Cassie eased her head back, studying him. “I hope I don’t regret this.”

  “We can agree on that.”

  She sighed and stepped around him, taking a seat at Sarah’s desk and filled him in. Jake listened carefully, impressing Cassie with intelligent questions, reminding her that beneath his glib jokes and casual charm lay a keen, strategic mind.

  “Any suspects?”

  “There were three guards on duty inside the library that night…”

  “The ones that didn’t show up for work the next day?”

  “How do you know about that? And, for that matter, how in the hell did you find me here?”

  “I’ll tell you my secrets if you’ll tell me yours.”

  She said, “Not today. The guards are at the top of my suspect list along with a guy named Malcolm Bridges. He designed the exhibit and the security for it. And, he quit his job a couple of days ago.”

  “Who smacked you in the jaw?”

  “He calls himself Aramis. He admitted being involved in the theft but he doesn’t match the description of any of the missing guards and we haven’t seen him on any of the library’s surveillance videos, at least not so far.”

  “Aramis doesn’t sound like a name picked at random.”

  “No, it doesn’t. My guess is that there are two other Musketeers calling themselves Porthos and Athos.”

  “Don’t forget D’Artagnan.”

  “The fourth Musketeer.”

  Jake nodded. “Fourth but first among equals. Find him and you may find whoever is calling the shots.”

  Cassie smiled. “A poker player and a fan of the classics. Who knew?”

  “What about Inspector Murdoch?” Jake asked. “Is he going to be a problem?”

  “He’s a cop and he’s suspects something is wrong with the exhibit, so, yes, he’s going to be a problem.”

  “You don’t think he was satisfied when he saw that everything was fine with the sensors and the acrylic covers?”

  “He knows what he saw. He’ll think someone swapped them out. Then he’ll wonder why we lied to him and then he’ll keep snooping and asking questions we won’t want to answer.”

  “Which means we’ve got to get the Magna Cartas back before he figures out they‘ve been stolen.”

  Cassie stood. “Which is why I’m going to see Malcolm Bridges.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No. You’ll stay here.”

  Jake frowned. “And do what?”

  “Figure out how the thieves left the library without being seen on any of the surveillance cameras. Sarah and I were reviewing the footage when I saw you on a live camera feed. There are hours and hours of video for you to review.” She handed him the personnel files for the missing guards, pointing out their photographs. “Watch for anyone you see using any of the exits or climbing out a window between midnight and ten a.m. the day the exhibit opened, especially these three.” She gestured him to Sarah’s chair and explained how the system worked.

  Jake looked from her to the computer screen and back to her.

  “Really? You want me to sit here and watch videos?”

  Cassie kissed him on the cheek. “It will make you feel alive.”

  TWENTY

  MALCOLM BRIDGES AND HIS WIFE, Gladys, lived in Lewisham, a middle-class borough in southeast London. Their flat was on the fifth floor of a non-descript building on Elmira Street. Cassie rang the bell. A woman answered without opening the door.

  “Yes? Who’s there?”

  “Cassie Ireland. I’m working with the British Library and I’d like to speak with your husband, Malcolm.”

  The door swung open revealing a short, thin, auburn-haired woman in her forties. She wore slacks and a loose-fitting blouse. Her face was drawn and her eyes were red and puffy.

  “Mrs. Bridges?” Cassie asked. The woman nodded. Cassie handed her a business card. She gave the card a quick glance.

  “Global Security? What’s that got to do with the library?”

  “We’re working with Sarah St. James to review the library’s security system. She told me your husband designed the security for the Magna Carta exhibit and suggested I talk with him but his secretary said he’s no longer with Titan. I was hoping to catch him at home.”

  Her eyes filled and she wiped them with her blouse. “He’s not here.”

  “Do you know when he might be back or where I might find him.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t suppose even he knows that.”

  Cassie wished she could leave Mrs. Bridges to her misery but that wasn’t possible. “May I come in?”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Mrs. Bridges turned and shuffled down the entry hallway, leaving the door open. Cassie followed her into the kitchen. She sat at the table, hunched over a cup of tea. A pile of unopened mail lay on the table. Final Notice was printed in bold red on many of the envelopes. The return addresses were for debt collection agencies. She picked up a spoon and stirred her tea.

  “I told you I don’t know where he is, not that knowing would do much good.”

  Cassie took a chair opposite Mrs. Bridges. “I’m so sorry you’re having to go through such a difficult time.”

  Mrs. Bridges stopped stirring her tea and shook her head. “What do you know about it?”

  “Nothing, but it looks like your husband left you in terrible straits and I know that no woman deserves to be treated like that.”

  She sat up. “It was the gambling. Lost all our money. I got so I couldn’t bear to answer the phone and listen to another bill collector threaten me.”

  Cassie reached across the table, cupping Mrs. Bridges hands. “How awful for you. Did Mr. Bridges tell you he was leaving you?”

  She pulled away, tucking her
hands under her arms. “We haven’t done a lot of talking lately. Not with all of this,” she said pointing to the unopened mail. “We had quite a row last week. He said everything was going to be all right, that he had something big working and that he was going to cash in and quit his job and we’d live the good life. Then yesterday morning, he got a phone call and shot out of the house without a word. Didn’t even take his briefcase. I haven’t heard from him since.”

  “Did he keep anything from work at home. If he did, it might be helpful to the library.”