"Platinum," Miles said, hunkering down to get a better look at the tiny fragment."Or something that looks like it.We'll need forensics to confirm."
Vic opened the single closet.Empty except for wire hangers.She checked the ceiling, then got down on her hands and knees to look under the workbench."He didn't just clean out his equipment.He sanitized the entire space.There's nothing here that would help us."
Miles felt frustration building in his chest.They were so close.They had a name, they had an address that had turned out to look suspicious as hell, but the suspect had stayed one step ahead.He walked to the window and looked out at the Brooklyn street below.Pedestrians moved along the sidewalk, oblivious to the fact that a killer had worked in the room above them for months.
"Check the bathroom," Miles said.
There was a tiny bathroom off the main room, barely large enough for a toilet and sink.Vic disappeared inside and emerged thirty seconds later shaking her head.
"Nothing.Not even soap.He cleared outeverything."
Miles looked around the empty room one more time.The space felt haunted somehow, filled with the ghost of work that had been done here—terrible, deadly work.Deadly work.But there were no clues left behind to tell them where the killer had gone or what he was planning next.IfHartley was their killer, of course.
But with every second that passed, he was becoming more certain he was.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.He pulled it out and saw Detective Linhart's name on the screen.
"Sterling," he answered.
"Agent Sterling, this is Linhart.I overheard something at the precinct tonight that I thought you should know about, and…and, shit, I wish I’d have thought if it sooner."
"What is it?”Miles asked, placing the call on speaker mode so Vic could listen in.
"A few of our officers were complaining about being assigned extra security detail tonight for the Diamond Gala at the Metropolitan Museum.Apparently, it's Manhattan's most exclusive charity event….they do it every year to raise money Well, that’s why theysaythey do it.But it’s just an excuse for the rich assholes of the city to stand around and make each other feel good if you ask me.All the city's wealthiest elite will be there wearing their finest jewelry."
Miles felt something click into place in his mind.The Diamond Gala.An event where hundreds of people would gather, all wearing expensive jewelry.Platinum jewelry.Good God, it would be like a lantern to a moth.
"How did we not know about this?"he said, more to himself than to Linhart.
"It's not exactly the kind of thing most people pay attention to unless you run in those circles," Linhart said."I honestly feel like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner, but society galas aren't really on my radar.But when I heard those guys bitching about the overtime, it hit me.If this killer targets people wearing platinum, that event would be like a buffet for him."
Miles was already moving toward the door, Vic following close behind."What time does it start?"
"Doors open at eight.The main event runs until midnight."
Miles checked his watch and saw that it had already somehow come to be 4:40 in the afternoon."We need to get ahead of this,” he said.“Call the museum security right now.Tell them what's happening.And contact those units assigned to extra security.Brief them on the situation.We're dealing with a killer who's extremely intelligent and methodical.They need to be looking for anyone acting suspicious, anyone paying too much attention to the guests' jewelry."
"I'm on it.What's your next move?"
Miles and Vic were already running down the stairs."We're heading to the Met now.We need to scope out the venue, identify vulnerabilities, figure out how this guy might try to strike.And Linhart, the suspect's name is David Hartley.Get that information out to your units immediately."
"Consider it done."
Miles ended the call as they burst out onto the street.The afternoon sun was still bright, but they only had a few hours before the gala began…a few hours to prepare for whatever the killer had planned.
"He's going to strike at the gala," Vic said as they climbed into the car.It wasn't a question.
"I'm certain of it," Miles said, starting the engine."All those wealthy people in one place, all wearing expensive jewelry.Including platinum.It's exactly the kind of target he's been building toward."
"But we don't know who specifically he'll go after."
"No, we don't.Which means we need to be ready for anything."
Miles pulled into traffic and headed toward Manhattan, his mind already running through scenarios.The killer had been meticulous so far, planning every detail of his attacks and not leaving a shred of evidence behind.He wouldn't walk into a crowded gala unprepared.He would have a plan, a specific target, a way to get close without raising suspicion.
They just had to figure out what that plan was before it was too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
