Miles tugged at the bow tie that felt like it was strangling him.The tuxedo rental place had assured him it was the correct size, but standing here in the Great Hall of the Metropolitan Museum, he felt like an imposter wrapped in expensive fabric.The jacket pulled slightly across his shoulders every time he moved.
Vic appeared beside him, and Miles barely recognized her.She wore a floor-length black gown that somehow managed to be both elegant and practical.Her hair was styled differently than usual, pulled back but not severely. She’d also taken the time to add a little makeup.She looked uncomfortable too, though she carried it better than he did.
"You look stuffy," Vic said, eyeing his tuxedo.
"So do you," Miles replied.Then he caught himself."I mean, you look lovely, actually.Just also stuffy."
Vic smirked."Thanks for the clarification."
They stood near one of the massive marble columns near the backside of the entryway and watched as guests continued to arrive.The Diamond Gala was in full swing now—it was 8:40 and even those who chose to be fashionably late to such an event had already arrived.The museum had been transformed into something that belonged in a different century.Crystal chandeliers cast warm light across polished floors.Servers in white jackets moved through the crowd carrying trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres.A string quartet played classical music from somewhere Miles couldn't see, the sound floating through the high-ceilinged space.
The guests themselves were exactly what Miles had expected.Manhattan's wealthiest elite, dressed in designer gowns and custom tuxedos that probably cost more than his monthly rent.The jewelry was everywhere.Diamonds caught the light with every movement.Emeralds and rubies glittered at throats and wrists.And platinum.So much platinum.Wedding bands, necklaces, bracelets, earrings.Seeing it all, Miles had absolutely no doubts that it would be the perfect place for the killer to either choose his next target, or to even strike.
"Let's go over it again," Miles said quietly, keeping his voice low enough that nearby guests wouldn't hear."What did we learn when we scoped the place earlier?"
Vic nodded and shifted slightly so they both had a view of the main entrance.When they’d arrived earlier and had security walk them through the ins and outs of the place, it had all happened so fast.
"The gala is spread across multiple wings,” she said.“The Great Hall here is the main gathering space, but guests are encouraged to wander.The Egyptian wing is open, the American wing, and the European paintings section."
"Right.And museum security is handling the perimeter and the main entrances.They've got twelve guards total, all wearing dark suits with museum badges.Detective Linhart coordinated with them and made sure they all have Hartley's description.NYPD officers are stationed outside at every entrance and exit, four units total."
Miles watched a server pass with a tray of champagne flutes."Catering staff?"
"Hired through an outside company called Premier Events.The museum vetted them, but we didn't have time to background check every single employee.There are maybe thirty servers working tonight, plus kitchen staff we won't see.They're all wearing white jackets with black bow ties.The blend in but still sort of stand out."She chuckled dryly and said, “They’re the ones who aren’t sparkly.
"And I imagine that's how he'll come in," Miles said."Either as catering or security.Those are the only two groups that can move freely without attracting attention."
"I agree.Which is why we need to watch both."
Miles reached up and adjusted the small earpiece tucked into his ear.It was flesh-colored and nearly invisible, connected to a radio unit clipped inside his jacket.He wasn’t used to wearing anything like it and felt like there was a small bug crawling around in his ear.With a small grimace, he pressed it slightly to test the connection.
"Linhart, you reading me?"he said quietly.
Detective Linhart's voice came through clear despite some background static."I've got you, Agent Sterling.Audio is good on both channels."
"Agent Stone, check in," Linhart said.
Vic touched her own earpiece."Stone here.Connection is solid."
"Good," Linhart said.Miles could hear the faint sound of traffic through her mic.She was sitting in an unmarked car outside the museum, laptop open on the passenger seat."Museum security came through and gave me remote access to their camera feeds.I've got eyes here in the car on my laptop.I’ve got decent views of the Great Hall, the Egyptian wing, American wing, and European paintings.Some blind spots in the hallways, but I can track most of the building."
"What are you looking for?"Vic asked.
"Anyone who doesn't belong.Anyone paying too much attention to the guests' jewelry.Anyone whose body language doesn't match their role.If Hartley is here disguised as staff, he'll slip up eventually.They always do."
Miles scanned the crowd again.There had to be three hundred people here already, maybe more.The noise level was rising as conversations overlapped and laughter echoed off the marble.Finding one person in this chaos felt impossible, but they had to try.
"We should split up," Vic said."Cover more ground."
Miles nodded."I'll take the Egyptian wing and work my way back.You start with the American wing?"
"Works for me.Stay on comms."
They separated, and Miles moved through the crowd toward the Egyptian wing.He tried to look natural, like he belonged here among the wealthy elite.He picked up a glass of champagne from a passing server just to have something to hold, though he had no intention of drinking it.What he really had a hard time doing was not paying attention to the surroundings.The place really was remarkable.
The Egyptian wing was less crowded than the Great Hall.Guests wandered past display cases containing artifacts thousands of years old.Sarcophagi lined the walls, their painted faces staring out at the modern world with blank expressions.The lighting here was dimmer, more atmospheric.It made everyone's jewelry shine even brighter.Miles watched a server refill drink at a small bar set up near the Temple of Dendur.The man was young, maybe twenty-five, with dark hair and quick movements.He smiled at guests and made small talk while he poured champagne.Nothing about his behavior seemed suspicious.If anything, he looked nervous to be around such glamorous, rich people.
Another server passed carrying a tray of empty glasses.This one was older, heavyset, with gray hair at his temples.He moved with the tired efficiency of someone who had worked a thousand events exactly like this one.Also not their guy.
