Zachery said, “So she was responsible for the safety of the crown jewels for the exhibit that’s starting at the Met?”
Ben nodded. “She was sent here as a legal attaché to oversee the arrival, display, and departure of the Jewel of the Lion exhibit from London. She’s been here about four months now. She’s got a place over in Murray Hill, a rental.” He stared at the rocky shoreline, and his jaw tightened. “Did you know the Brits are so protective of their crown jewels it took an act of Parliament to allow this exhibit to happen?”
Mike said, “An act of Parliament? So this exhibit is a pretty big deal. Ben, do you think whoever shot her could be an over-the-top Brit, really upset at the idea of the crown jewels coming to the U.S.?”
“Anything’s possible, but murdering the minder to stop the exhibit, which it wouldn’t? She had no say about the exhibit itself. Those issues were between the Met and the Brits and the insurance companies.”
Zachery said, “I didn’t know about the act of Parliament, either. I did know the Met was hosting this once-in-a-lifetime exhibit to coincide with Prince William and Duchess Kate’s state trip here next week.”
Ben said, “Yeah, it’s been crazy with all the legal mumbo jumbo. The centerpiece of the exhibit is the queen mother’s crown, which holds the Koh-i-Noor diamond, the Jewel of the Lion itself. The way they set up the transfer of the jewels to America technically keeps them on sovereign soil until they hit the floor of the Met. Elaine had a lot of pressure on her. The jewels have been in the museum for two days now. She was also in charge of the gala at the Met tomorrow night—wait, I guess we’re talking tonight now, to debut the exhibit. Private affair. Very pricey. Elaine asked me if I—”
He trailed off, and Mike realized that Ben had been attending the gala as Elaine’s guest. She touched her hand to his arm again. “I’m so sorry, Ben.”
Anger sheened his eyes, and he swallowed. “I’ll go back to Federal Plaza and put together as much information for you as I can so you can get briefed on her role and what—” It was as if Ben had run out of words. He stared at the sluggishly moving East River, cold and black beneath a sliver of moon.
The techs whistled and the medical examiner’s van pulled away. They watched until the van was out of sight, a silent tribute to their fallen comrade.
Zachery pulled his watch cap over his ears. “It’s too cold to stand out here much longer. Someone wanted the inspector out of the way. The question is why? It’s got to have something to do with the exhibit. Do you know what’s going to happen now, Ben, over the pond?”
Ben’s cop eyes were colder than the river. He said, “Scotland Yard has to assess what’s happened and how to react. As for the folks at the Met, I’ll speak to Dr. Browning, the curator of the exhibit, see what she’s going to do now that Inspector York is dead. The NYPD isn’t going to horn in on this, are they?”
Mike said, “I already spoke to Captain Slaughter of the Seventeenth Precinct. They’ll cooperate, anything we need. I promised to keep him in the loop, but he won’t interfere. This exhibit is important for the city; there’s tons of tourist dollars at stake. Adding a high-profile murder to its coverage? My feeling is NYPD will want to stay a continent away from this.”
Zachery breathed out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. Even though no one wants this kind of press attached to the big event at the Met, it’s going to blow up, you all know that. I’ve got to brief our media reps. They’ll want to think about how they’re going to spin it to the world.” He looked at his watch.