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O’Grady turned the paper over in his hands. “We have a report here that earlier today, Mr. Smithback impersonated a security officer and gained unauthorized clearance to some high-security files in the Museum. Would you know why?”
“No.”
“When was the last time you spoke to Mr. Smithback?”
Nora sighed. “I don’t remember.”
Finester sat back in his seat, folded his beefy arms. “Take your time, please.” He had a shiny, paste-colored dome of a head, topped by a tuft of hair so thick and coarse it looked like a hairy island in the middle of his bald head.
This was intolerable. “Maybe a week.”
“Under what circumstances?”
“He was harassing me in my office.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to tell me that Agent Pendergast had been stabbed. Museum security dragged him away. They’ll have a record of it.” What the hell was Smithback doing back in the Museum? The guy was incorrigible.
“You have no idea what Mr. Smithback was looking for?”
“I believe I just said that.”
There was a short silence while O’Grady checked his notes. “It says here that Mr. Smithback—”
Nora interrupted impatiently. “Look, why aren’t you pursuing some real leads here? Like those typewritten notes of the killer’s, the one sent to me and the one left on Puck’s desk? Obviously, the killer is somebody with access to the Museum. Why all these questions about Smithback? I haven’t spoken to him in a week. I don’t know anything about what he’s up to and, frankly, I couldn’t care less.”
“We have to ask you these questions, Dr. Kelly,” O’Grady replied.
“Why?”
“They’re on my list. It’s my job.”
“Jesus.” She passed a hand over her forehead. This whole episode was Kafkaesque. “Go ahead.”
“After a warrant was put out on Mr. Smithback, we found his rented car parked on upper Riverside Drive. Would you know why he rented the car?”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I haven’t spoken to him in a week.”
O’Grady turned over the sheet. “How long have you known Mr. Smithback?”
“Almost two years.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“In Utah.”
“Under what circumstances?”
“On an archaeological expedition.” Nora was suddenly having trouble paying attention to the questions. Riverside Drive? What the hell was Smithback doing up there?
“What kind of an archaeological expedition?”
Nora didn’t answer.
“Dr. Kelly?”
Nora looked at him. “Where on Riverside Drive?”
O’Grady looked confused. “I’m sorry?”
“Where was Smithback’s car found on Riverside Drive?”
O’Grady fumbled with the paper. “It says here upper Riverside. One hundred thirty-first and Riverside.”
“One hundred thirty-first Street? What was he doing up there?”
“That’s just what we were hoping you could tell us. Now, about that archaeological expedition—”
“And you say he came in this morning, gained access to some files? What files?”
“Old security files.”
“Which ones?”
O’Grady flipped through some other sheets. “It says here it was an old perso
“On who?”
“It doesn’t say.”
“How did he do it?”
“Well, it doesn’t say, and—”
“For God’s sake, can’t you find out?”
Pink anger blossomed across O’Grady’s face. “May we get back to the questions, please?”
“I know something about this,” Finester suddenly broke in. “I was on duty earlier today. When you were out getting donuts and coffee, O’Grady. Remember?”
O’Grady turned. “In case you’ve forgotten, Finester, we’re supposed to be the ones asking the questions.”
Nora gave O’Grady her coldest stare. “How can I answer if you don’t give me the information I need?”
O’Grady’s rose-colored face grew redder. “I don’t see why—”
“She’s right, O’Grady. She has a right to know,” Finester turned to Nora, pug face lit up by an ingratiating smile. “Mr. Smithback lured one of the security guards away with a phony telephone call, allegedly from the Human Resources office. Then he pretended to be from Human Resources himself and persuaded the remaining guard to unlock certain filing cabinets. Said he was conducting some kind of file inspection.”
“He did?” Despite her concern, Nora couldn’t help smiling to herself. It was vintage Smithback. “And what were those files, exactly?”
“Security clearances, dating back over a hundred years.”
“And that’s why he’s in trouble?”
“That’s the least of it. The guard thought he saw him take some papers out of one drawer. So you can add theft to—”
“Which file drawer?”
“It was the 1870 perso
“Which one?”
“It was that one on the nineteenth-century serial killer, what’s-his-name. The one written about in the Times. Clearly that’s what he was after, more information on—”
“Enoch Leng?”
“Yeah. That’s the guy.”
Nora sat, stu
“Now, can we please get back to the questions, Dr. Kelly?” O’Grady interrupted.
“And his car was found up Riverside Drive? At 131st Street? How long had it been there?”
Finester shrugged. “He rented it right after he stole the file. It’s staked out. As soon as he picks it up, we’ll know.”
O’Grady broke in again. “Finester, now that you’ve managed to reveal all the confidential details, maybe you can keep quiet for a minute. Now, Dr. Kelly, this archaeological expedition—”
Nora reached into her purse for her cell phone, found it, pulled it out.
“No cell phones, Dr. Kelly, until we’re finished.” It was O’Grady again, his voice rising in anger.
She dropped the phone back into her purse. “Sorry. I’ve got to go.”
“You can go as soon as we finish the questions.” O’Grady was livid. “Now, Doctor Kelly, about that archaeological expedition . . .”
Nora didn’t hear the rest. Her mind was racing.
“Dr. Kelly?”
“But can’t we, ah, finish this later?” She tried to smile, tried to put on her most pleading look. “Something really important has just come up.”
O’Grady didn’t return the smile. “This is a criminal investigation, Dr. Kelly. We’ll be done when we get to the end of the questions—not before.”
Nora thought for a moment. Then she looked O’Grady in the eye. “I’ve got to go. Go, go to the bathroom, I mean.”
“Now?”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry, but we’ll have to accompany you, then. Those are the rules.”
“Into the bathroom?”
He blushed. “Of course not, but to the facilities. We’ll wait outside.”
“Then you’d better hurry. I’ve really got to go. Bad kidneys.”
O’Grady and Finester exchanged glances.
“Bacterial infection. From a dig in Guatemala.”
The policemen rose with alacrity. They crossed the Rockefeller Great Room, past the dozens of tables and the endless overlapping recitations of other staff members, out into the main library. Nora waited, biding her time, as they made their way toward the entrance. No point in sounding more of an alarm than was necessary.
The library itself was silent, researchers and scientists long since gone. The Great Room lay behind them now, the back-and-forth of questions and answers inaudible. Ahead were the double doors leading out into the hall and the rest rooms beyond. Nora approached the doors, the two cops trailing in her wake.
Then, with a sudden burst of speed, she darted through, swinging the doors behind her, back into the faces of the officers. She heard the thud of an impact, something clattering to the ground, a yelp of startled surprise. And then came a loud barking sound, like a seal giving the alarm, followed by shouts and ru