But he had ignored her all night, and then Virginia died, and things got even worse. She just didn’t matter to him.
“Is that the only thing you’re hiding?” she asked now. “Our relationship?”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“I told you about those notes I found, including the ones about her will.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line. She checked her screen to make sure they hadn’t been disconnected.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Penny.”
Was he serious? He was actually going to deny it? “What? Do you think I’m recording you or something? My God. Please tell me that you didn’t do it. Did you kill her because I told you about those notes?”
“With all due respect,” he said, “you sound like a crazy person. If you tell that show some ludicrous story about whatever notes you’re rambling about, I’ll tell them how Ivan wanted you fired because you didn’t work hard enough. That you shortcut your work to try to land a relationship with me instead. That we only went out a couple of times and you became obsessed with me. Is that really what you want?”
“Are you threatening me?” Penny demanded.
“I’m just speaking the truth. I could sue you for slander and tie you up in court for years. You might want to consider getting professional help, Penny. You sound unstable.”
The line went dead. Penny stared at the screen, wondering if there was anyone she could trust.
45
The following morning, Laurie was waiting with Charlotte in a conference room at Ladyform’s corporate offices when the Met’s former security officer Marco Nelson walked in for his nine o’clock meeting. Charlotte introduced herself as the head of Ladyform’s New York operations and introduced Laurie simply as “Laurie.” Marco was about six feet two inches tall, and Laurie estimated that he probably weighed around two hundred pounds. His dark gray suit was tailored to accentuate his athletic frame. He wasn’t as large as Ivan, but was certainly strong enough to have thrown Virginia Wakeling from a roof.
Charlotte began by giving Marco an overview of Ladyform’s security needs: a technician to review their data systems for protection from hacking and other cyber crimes, as well as physical security for fashion shows and other industry events. Marco was prepared with glossy handouts touting the various services provided by his company, the Armstrong Group.
“Who’s the Armstrong?” Charlotte asked.
Marco smiled. “There is no Armstrong. It just had a more security-oriented ring to it than the Nelson Group.”
“So you’re the boss of the shop?” Charlotte asked.
“Technically, but we all work as a team.”
“I got your name from a former co-worker of yours at the museum,” she said. “Sean Duncan?”
“Sean, he’s a great guy. He was second in charge when I was there, but he deserved that promotion. He’s a friend of yours?”
“No. Actually, it was Laurie who was speaking to him about another matter, relating to the museum.”
Laurie took that as her cue to jump in. “Sean made it sound like a dream security job. Why did you move on from there?” she asked.
“Honestly? I’d make a lot more money protecting your fashion shows than a museum. And that’s even after I give you one of the fairest rates you’re going to find in the business.”
“It wasn’t because of the investigation into your girlfriend stealing from the museum gift shop?”
Marco looked annoyed by the question, but still seemed to view it as part of the usual vetting process by a new security client. “Did someone at the museum tell you that? That was total absolute nonsense and I would be rude if I told you what’s on the tip of my tongue. I left for one reason only. I needed to start making more money.”
“Your girlfriend wasn’t stealing?” Laurie asked.
Nelson grimaced, probably seeing the chances of landing a new client circling down the drain. “Unfortunately, she was. But I had no idea. If she did it on nights I was working, it was probably because she thought I’d go easy on her if I caught her—which I didn’t. She had a secret pocket built into her purse. Maybe I could have been more thorough, but protocol only called for a quick, visual scan of the employees’ personal items. If I had started digging around and grabbing the sides of purses to search for secret compartments, I would have been violating our own procedures. No one ever would have pointed a finger at me if it weren’t for the fact that we were dating. So, I got a new job, along with a new rule: no dating at work,” he finished with a chuckle.
Laurie had to admit, it was as good of an explanation as he could have offered under the circumstances.
“I don’t actually work for Ladyform, Mr. Nelson,” she said. “I’m the producer of Under Suspicion. The matter I met with Sean Duncan about was the murder of Virginia Wakeling.”
He shook his head as he realized the true reason for this meeting. “That’s pretty dishonest, calling me down here under false pretenses.”
He started to get up from his chair, but Charlotte stopped him. “I do need security. And I was impressed by your pitch, as well as your explanation for what happened at the museum.”
Nelson sat back down quickly.
“A woman was killed,” Laurie said, “and you were the last person to see her alive, other than her killer . . . or killers. There’s a reason I wanted to speak to you.” She pulled the two photographs of the Jacqueline Kennedy dress from her bag. “Look, that bracelet was there before the exhibit opened, but was gone by the time Virginia Wakeling was killed.”
He studied the pictures carefully. “My ex-girlfriend was stealing jewelry from the gift shop, not from the galleries. What she did was bad, but it wasn’t the same as a museum heist.” He stopped suddenly and squinted, as if searching for the details of a memory that had just come back to him. “The alarm,” he said. “A silent alarm got tripped in the exhibit that night. I got an alert from our Dispatch Department. I was one of the guards who responded. You think it was because this bracelet disappeared?”
“Until we know what happened to it, it certainly seems possible. Do you remember if it was still there earlier in the night?”
“A small detail like that? No, I doubt any of us would have noticed, except the curator, I suppose. That was Cynthia Vance’s exhibit.”
“Did she notice anything missing that night?”
“No, because that was the year she had to miss the Gala. The first time in her entire career, to my knowledge. She had mono and was out for a month. When we got to the galleries, we didn’t see anyone, and nothing seemed out of place. We figured it was tripped by one of the outside vendors who were working on the cameras.”
“Does Cynthia Vance still work at the museum?” Laurie asked.
“I would assume. She’s the type that will stay there until God has other plans.”