Page 23 of The Scarab's Game
One more thing I was hiding from her. Typical Emmett.
“What’s first?” I looked around, cataloging everything I saw. Inconspicuous as possible, I conveyed a fascination with theobjects, hiding my ulterior motives. Priority one was finding the scarab—I was fairly certain it wouldn’t show up in any inventory, otherwise Jean-Philippe would have suggested it already. He didn’t strike me as someone who only knew the public pieces in the gallery.
“Ultraviolet photos.” Jenn hung her purse on a hook by the door and donned a gray apron. The apron transformed her from business professional to artisan. Tying it around her waist, she scanned the room. “That is, if I can find an ultraviolet light.”
I wandered along the shelves, peering around sculptures and jars, tipping a few small boxes open. Searching for equipment was the perfect opportunity to scout the interior. The room we were in only had one door leading into the office and then the hallway. Across the hall, two doors.
One which required keycard access and was labeled for employees only. Likely restrooms and potentially a break room. I’d need an excuse to explore and verify that nothing was hidden in there. Spending enough money might gain me access.
But the other door?
It was metal, unlabeled, and had a keypad next to it. That was the high-value secure storage. Not off-site. Right across the hall. If the scarab wasn’t upstairs or in the digital inventory, it might be behind that door.
I didn’t have a safecracking case for my phone, but I’d snapped a photo of the door and sent it back to HQ for when everyone woke up. Unsurprisingly, Brie—my younger sister—had already responded that she and Will were searching for a match.
Blocks away, Jayce and Drew were preparing to enter Massimo’s condo, disguised as cleaners. Like me, they were on the hunt for evidence of the scarab’s location. If we confirmed Massimo had it in his possession, that would give us more leverage to force a sale.
If Jayce and Drew came up empty, I’d likely send her into the gallery for reconnaissance tonight. Hopefully, the team would find a match for the security system in their database. If not, I had a small signal jammer in my pocket to leave behind and cover their digital tracks. If we’d had more time, we could have helped Brie take over their security systems remotely.
“Ah ha!” Jenn exclaimed, pulling a three-foot-long light bar out of a cupboard. “There’s a camera in there, too. I bet it’s for taking UV photos. I can send those to Antonio.”
“Dr. Ferraro, you said?”
“Yeah.” She placed the light on the large table at the center of the room. “Ring any bells?”
“A few, but it’s a fairly common name.” In truth, we’d worked for a smuggler named Ferraro a few times, including one job to recover a piece for his nephew. Based on what I’d heard, the odds were good Jenn’s source was that very nephew. If she didn’t have such a solid contact, I would have suggested we fly Keira—our team’s forger—in for a consult.
Jenn gathered various tools while I continued peeking into every space I could.
“You must love working behind the scenes like this.”
“Looks like you do, too.” She lay the painting on the table, rustling some papers as she did.
I nodded slowly, resuming my exploration. “Museums are my favorite. Every time I go into a collections department, the vast quantity of items held behind closed doors—out of the public’s eye—overwhelms me.”
That was one of the few truths I was sharing today.
“Let’s give this a shot.” With no more warning than that, she shut the door to the office and turned off the overhead light.
I halted my search. Dim light filtered in from under the closed door to the office, while the purple glow of the UV lightbarely illuminated the room. Not nearly enough to continue poking around.
Jenn passed the bar over the painting, mere inches above it. She leaned over, following closely with her eyes. She hummed aloud as she inspected the bottom edge.
“See anything?” I drew closer, remembering some of my mother’s lessons from when I was younger. Lessons that made so much more sense after discovering her tie to MI6. The varnish fluoresced in greens of subtle shades. Variations in the varnish layers would indicate different rounds of conservation. A two-hundred-year-old painting could have been cleaned many times, if not retouched a few.
She hummed again, saying nothing.
“You said it was by John Constable?” I only knew a few Constable works off the top of my head, includingThe Hay WainandSalisbury Cathedral. He was best known for his English landscapes, like the one in front of us.
“Mm-hmm.” She was zeroed in on the painting, barely acknowledging me. It was fascinating to watch. “It’s calledWheatfield from the Lock.”
The golden wheat spread through the middle of the painting, with women working the field and a small boy walking his dog nearby. A stone structure closer to the viewer must have been part of the lock. “Have you ever?—”
The door opened, spilling light into the room, and she snapped upright.
“What are you doing here?” Dante De Rosa stormed in, flipping the light on. Unlike the past two days, he didn’t even glance at Jenn. This was all about me. “What do you think you’re doing back here in the dark?”
Too many responses flitted through my brain. ‘Killing time’and a smirk would probably be met with a fist. ‘Getting close to my woman’would warrant the same. “Jean-Philippe wasgoing to show me your Egyptian collection. We talked about it yesterday?”