Page 16 of The Alibi Club

“Attention, everyone, attention please,” said a short, rotund, studious-looking man with an English accent. “Welcome everyone, especially our esteemed donors. I’m Basil Grimsby, director and head curator of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. We are excited about your help with our much-needed renovations, and we hope you are enjoying this very special exhibit on Egyptian jewels that I personally curated.” Grimsby paused and motioned around the room as his captive audience clapped and nodded at the beautiful displays, which showcased a rather thorough and beautiful collection of rare jewels and pieces. “Thank you. Yes, thank you. Anything for you, my esteemed patrons.” He’s really putting it on thick tonight, Lorna thought. He mimed settling down to the crowd until it was quiet again. “We couldn’t do it without your magnanimous generosity and support. Be sure to tip those glasses and loosen those purse strings! Cheers!” Basil Grimsby tipped his own glass before he was tapped by a slender, striking Asian woman with sleek black hair and a delicate nose who whispered something to him. Her body language was tense, her back as straight as her hair.

Grimsby turned to her, incensed, not aware or possibly totally aware he still had the microphone in his hand. “You have the temerity to bring this up now?” The sound boomed across the ballroom. “It seems you need reminding of your place, Ms. Kim! I am head curator here, not your peer! You’d do well to stick to your job!” This drew the attention away from the continuing waiter kerfuffle and onto Grimsby and what appeared to be his assistant. He put the mic down and stomped off, leaving Ms. Kim standing awkwardly in the center of the room, mortified. Lorna went over to her.

“Nothing more attractive than a grown man throwing a tantrum,” Lorna said.

The woman collected herself. “Add sociopathic, mediocre, and feckless, and I give you Basil Grimsby.”

Lorna chuckled and said, “Tell me what you really think.”

Ms. Kim merely looked at her. “You have no idea.”

“Lorna Gray.” She held out her hand. “And you are?”

“Holly Kim.” She shook Lorna’s hand. “Deputy curator, special exhibits.”

“As in this special exhibit?” Lorna pointed to the Egyptian antiquities around them.

“Precisely what I was telling Grimsby before he went off.”

“Well, nicely done,” Lorna admired. “How long have you worked for Basil Grimsby?”

“Three years, two months, and,” she checked her watch, “six hours.”

“A good experience?”

“It’s like watching your children being fed to a pack of hyenas on a daily basis. Terrible indigestion included. Thanks for asking.”

A smile was building internally in Lorna. Holly was something else—and a great source of information, too.

“Do you happen to know who that woman is, the one with the belligerent guy who yelled at the waitstaff?”

Holly peered over in that direction. “Ah, yes, Chanel Emam. Rumored to have a bloodline from Egyptian royalty, and judging from what looks like a Twenty-first Dynasty scarab bracelet on her wrist, possibly true. A woman of exquisite taste in antiquities at the least. One of the few who belong here.”

Lorna tapped her lip. “Though is she as obtuse as her date, or is she regretting her decisions?”

“Regret is an interesting word for someone who collects superyachts like I collect Funko Pops.”

Now Lorna really did laugh out loud. A rather rare occurrence for her these days.

“You seem honest. Almost radically so.”

Holly raised an eyebrow and sighed. “I prefer authentic.”

“Uh-huh.” Lorna sized her up and decided to test Holly Kim’s authenticity with some rapid-fire questions.

“What do you think of the clientele tonight?”

“Posers who are here for tax write-offs and a chance to swill champagne with Francis Ford Coppola.” She pointed to Francis Ford Coppola who was, indeed, holding a glass of champagne and taking a selfie with a real estate agent.

“Like the canapés?” Lorna asked as she snagged a dumpling.

“All the disappointment of a full meal, in one small bite.”

“What did you name Basil on your phone?”

“Brit Twit,” Holly said.

“Why do men date much younger women?”