“Gray, as you know, this woman stole the Koh-i-Noor, and we’re going to have an international disaster on our hands. Her alias is the Fox. Mark her armed and very dangerous, and send me everything as you get it.”
She turned to Nicholas as Gray Wharton rushed from the comm center. “Let’s go. Bo will be waiting.”
They took the service elevator to the basement. Bo was talking to Sherlock, and Savich was hunched over a keyboard, his fingers flying.
They stopped to clap.
Zachery said, “Here’s the man of the hour. Good work on the device, Nicholas.”
Bo said, “It looks like you didn’t waste your time with the bomb disposal unit in London. All of us are grateful for that.”
Mike punched him on the shoulder. “You could have told me. I was going to call you Captain America.”
Zachery said, “I sent two of the bomb boys with my men to look through the rest of the museum to see if Browning left any more surprises for us, but we seem clear. Here’s the deal: Browning hacked into the fifth floor video feeds and erased everything from the start of the gala on. Savich is trying to override and restore the feed.”
“Any report on Louisa and Paulie?” Mike asked.
Sherlock said, “They were transferred up the street to Lenox Hill Hospital. They took pretty hard shots to the head, plus it looks like she sprayed them with the same agent from the tear-gas canister. Takes an element of surprise to take down two FBI agents; she planned this to the letter. But they’ll be okay, Mike. Everyone’s okay.”
Mike said, “It could have been so much worse. I’ll head up there as soon as we’ve finished our briefing.”
Nicholas said, “Bo, I need everything you know about Victoria Browning.”
Bo handed him a manila folder. “Here’s her file. She hired on at the Met last spring when they had an open call for security-guards-cum-docents. They handle the tours, plus keep an eye on the artwork. It’s a growing trend to hire overqualified people for these positions—kills two birds with one stone. You need a master’s or a Ph.D. in art to even be considered. So in addition to being a docent, she was well versed with everything security-related in this museum. She moved up the ladder quickly, was made a curator right before the holidays. When the original curator for the crown jewels exhibit fell ill, Browning was the number-one choice to replace him. She took over every aspect of the exhibit, worked with Inspector Elaine York directly.”
Mike said, “Wait, she wasn’t the original curator?”
“No.”
“I assumed she was the curator from the start. Remember, Nicholas, she told us she named the exhibit? Jewel of the Lion. She thought it was catchy.”
“How convenient for her, moving up the ladder so quickly,” Sherlock said. “What sort of illness did the original curator contract?”
Bo said, “Vertigo. I remember hearing it was a terrible case, too. He ended up taking an early retirement package.”
Mike said, “I bet she Hitchcocked him with the vertigo. Were there any rumblings when Browning got the position? Scuttlebutt? Surely there were more experienced curators who would have been more likely replacements than a newbie.”
Bo shook his head. “Before my time. I’ve only been here six weeks, remember, and Victoria was already the lead dog when my company came on board. I’ll have to discuss it with the director and the personnel director. My staff liked her, though. She was easy to work with, tough but nice. She worked hard, like everyone else, but I don’t know anything more personal about her than her choice of drink—Diet Coke. We’ll have to talk to her coworkers for more.”
Nicholas said, “I spent the plane ride over brushing up on the details of the exhibit. My briefing said Browning was chosen because of her extensive knowledge of the crown jewels.”
Bo nodded and shook the file. “I have it here, too. A ‘preeminent authority,’ it states.”