I have never been to LA so I'm making this up using a handy map I found on-
line. Since I'm placing LAMA near the museum of contemporary art in
downtown LA.
*-*-*-*-*
Natalie and Alex emerged from the museum in time to see the tail lights of the Maserati flash red as Dylan braked slightly to get around the corner out of the parking garage. Natalie called, "Dylan? Dylan?" into her mouth mike but there was no answer.
"She's must be out of range," said Alex.
"Who do you think she was after?" asked Natalie still looking the off in the direction Dylan and driven.
"I don't know but I think its time we talked to Rutherford." With a swish of her skirt Alex turned and headed back into the Museum with Nat at her side.
*-*-*-*-*
"Sir," said the driver of the limousine to the man in the back, "some one is following us." The man looked out the back window. "Lose her. It's not the right time yet. She will find me only when I want her to."
"As you wish," replied the driver.
The passenger sighed. He wouldn't have had to tell his old driver that the man would have just known to lose the angel. His thoughts fueled his anger against Dylan and Anthony all the more as he thought of his beloved. "I wish. I definitely wish," he said under his breath.
Dylan zipped in and out of traffic trying to catch up to the Limo. Around her drivers honked and beeped their disapproval. She followed them down Broadway hoping to reach them before they made it to an on ramp of the Santa Monica freeway. She had a feeling the driver was holding back for safety's sake. "Funny considering who he is working for," said Dylan to herself. Suddenly her cell phone chirped to life. Fumbling with her bag on the passenger seat she managed to find the phone and answer while keeping one hand on the wheel and eyes on the road, "Yeah," she answered speeding around a corner.
"Dylan its Natalie. Where are you?" asked the blonde on the other end.
"Just turned off Broadway heading west", she said as she passed a McDonald's and a Wal-Mart. "I just cross Alameda Street." A loud honk followed her as she cut off a black pickup truck the driver gave her the finger. "Back at you buddy," yelled Dylan.
"Who are you after?"
"The one who got away," said Dylan cryptically. "Listen I need to hang up. I'll see you at the museum later." With that she pushed the disconnect button.
"Dylan? Dylan?" called Natalie into her cell phone. "Great, she hung up." Shrugging her shoulders she put the phone away and went to join Alex.
Neville Rutherford had been caught in conversation after he left Dylan. He and the other man were talking intently about which cricket team was going to win the cup this year. "London City all the way," said a distinguished gentleman in Armani. "I wouldn't be so sure," interjected Rutherford, "I think Woodford Green has a very good chance."
"Neville Rutherford?" he heard a female voice behind him call. "Yes," He said turning to find Alex standing there looking very authoritative.
"We need to talk." She grabbed the older man by the arm and led him to a quiet corner where Natalie was waiting.
"I seem to be quite popular with the ladies tonight. To what do I owe this honor?" he asked knowing perfectly well who they were.
"What did you tell Dylan?" Alex demanded.
"That she is a lovely lady and that I very much enjoy her company. Why? Was that a bad thing to say?" His eyes sparkled with laughter.
"She ran off," said Natalie, "Why?"
Natalie's words rang in his ears. He looked around the room spotting Anthony lingering near the terrace door. "If he hurt her I'll personal strangle him," said Rutherford angrily.
"Who?" Now Natalie was confused; obviously they all weren't on the same page. "Okay Rutherford let's start over," she said but he was already storming across the room towards the Thin Man with Alex and Natalie behind him. Looking at Alex Natalie said, "If I had known I was going to be running all over the place I would have worn different shoes."
Alex gave her a brief glance and said, "When don't we have to run all over the place?"
Anthony had just put out the cigarette he lit to calm down after his talk with Dylan on the terrace. He had just stepped inside when he noticed Rutherford stomping across the room with two angels in tow. "What now?" he wondered feeling very resigned to whatever they had in store for him.
"She is gone, did you have something to do with that my silent friend?" raged Rutherford at Anthony who maintained his cool unemotional façade. The silent assassin looked at the angels who seemed to be a bit out of breath then he wrote, "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Dylan," said Alex. "She ran out of here after someone." Rutherford turned to her confused and wondering how he had gotten the impression that Anthony was responsible.
"After who?" wrote Anthony.
"That is what we were hoping Rutherford could tell us," said Natalie.
"Why didn't you just say so?" asked the older man. "I don't know who she ran off after. I left her alone on the terrace with him."
"Did she say anything?" asked Anthony in writing and handing the note to Natalie.
"Just something about a man in a white suit with a gold cape," replied Natalie.
"Elvis?" asked Rutherford jokingly. Alex gave the man an evil look although that had been her question to Dylan. Something about that description reminded Anthony of someone he couldn't put his finger on and just as he was about to remember he lost the information again thanks to a woman's voice loudly yelling, "Positive!" They all looked over at Kate who was gesturing wildly to the curator.
*-*-*-*-*
The pimple faced teen walked up to Kate who was discussing the bizarre rare paintings of Rasputin with a dour, blue haired old woman. "Ms Dunayevskaya?" he said timidly while trying to get a glimpse down her cleavage. The women went on talking not hearing the young man next to them. "Ms. Dunayevskaya?" he said again a bit louder. She looked at the boy and smiled. A red blush crept up his neck turning his face scarlet.
"Yes, Ted is it?" she said reading the stick on "my name is." name tag he wore.
"Yes Ma'am. Uh Ms. Dunay." he began but Kate interrupted him. "Just Kate please." "Okay.Ms. Kate the curator, Mr. Hartman wants to talk to ya."
"Tell him I will be right there," she said dismissively and returned to her conversation with the dour woman.
"Uh." the teen stumbled, "Uh.Ms Kate he said it was like really important and that I shouldn't leave you alone until you talked to him." Kate flashed her smile at the woman and excused herself. As she and Ted walked over to the curator she said, "This better be important." She was shocked to see Mr. Hartman perspiring and dabbing at his receding hairline with a white handkerchief.
"Mr. Hartman, are you alright?" she said taking him by the arm and leading him to a chair.
"No Kate, I am not alright I received this note from someone who was here tonight and I wish to know if there is any truth to it." He held out the note for her inspection. She felt faint; someone knew that the eggs were fakes. She couldn't admit it yet, not there. She would tell Mr. Hartman in the morning and have the angels at her side. If she told him now, tonight it would cause undue attention to the fact they were missing and more than likely be in the newspaper by morning. She could even imagine it making international headlines and the Russians sending in their own officers. "No," she decided, "I'll deny it." "Mr. Hartman it must be some kind of sick joke, a prank. The eggs are perfect as they have been since they arrived here at the museum." She told herself it was the truth. They were the same eggs that had arrived at the museum. It was only a small white lie in the fact that she never said that they were the originals.
"Are you sure? I don't need to call the insurance agency for this or Mr. Petrov?"
"Positive," she said not missing the implied threat of contacting the head curator at the Hermitage. She hoped that she spoke with enough confidence to reassure her boss.
"Absolutely positive?"
"Positive," she said again although much louder than anticipated. It was that "positive" that attracted the attention of the angels, Anthony and Rutherford.
*-*-*-*-*
Dylan rounded another corner, she had the idea that they were doubling back but a fire truck pulled in front of her and she lost sight of him. She drove the streets of downtown LA for a few more minutes hoping to spot the long white vehicle then stopped. She slammed her fists against the steering wheel in frustration. She knew it had to be him, but why? Was it possible he was just a guest on the list? She hadn't seen him when she arrived and with what he was wearing she was sure either she or one of the other angels would have seen him.
She seemed to be filled with too many questions and not enough answers. Then it occurred to her maybe Rutherford had given her the answer in the form of an assassin named Francisco Javier Duarte. She had wondered why an assassin would be used to steel the eggs and now she knew. "Because the man had connections to the best of them," she said out loud. She threw the car into reverse and headed back to the museum. Finally something was making sense to her.
*-*-*-*-*
Kate was pleased that the curator believed her. She didn't want to have to deal with the police and if they were called in they would have to find another expert and she was sure that Hartman would have requested that Petrov be flown in. A waiter walked by and she grabbed a glass off the tray, gulped it down and took another. She looked at Anthony who arched an eyebrow at her as he arrived at her side. "It's been a tough evening," she snapped at him.
"What happened," asked Natalie.
Kate was about to speak she noticed Rutherford lingering off to the side of the group. "Who is he?" she asked.
"Neville Rutherford at your service," he said with an exaggerated bow. "You might remember me from earlier when you declined my request to cut in." She remembered him. He had been dancing with Dylan but why he was there sticking his nose into her business. She looked between the two angels and said, "I'd rather speak somewhere private, my office perhaps?"
"Sure let's go," said Natalie. Kate was a little surprised at the quick agreement and led them towards the exit. "Wait a minute. If we all leave at once its sure to draw attention."
"We don't know where your office is," said Rutherford. Kate gave him an angry look wondering what he had to do with this case. She said to Natalie, "You remember where my office is right?" Natalie nodded. "Good. Then Anthony and I will go and in five minutes or so you bring Alex and him," she pointedly looked at Rutherford, "along as well." She reached for Anthony's arm but he stepped away and wrote a note. Handing her the slip of paper he walked over to the door Kate unfolded, read it then threw it in a small trash receptacle. "Fine Alex, then you come with me . Anton should you chose to join us my office is on the third floor." The two women walked off together and Natalie and Rutherford waited.
*-*-*-*-*
Dylan took the elevator back to the museum entry level. Her eyes shone with excitement and determination, she had a suspect and now all they had to do was prove that he did it. As she stepped out of the elevator she ran into Anthony standing there smoking a cigarette. She couldn't help but smile when she saw him regardless of what had been said earlier.
He noticed her smile and put out the cigarette as he felt his heart stop and he stepped in front of her. "You need to move I have to talk to Alex and Nat." He shook his head. "Anthony, let me by I have to tell them what I found out." He shook his head again and took a breath then said, "They went to Kate's office." Her smiled changed to a look of concern, "Did something happen?"
"Whoever you went after found out about the eggs," he said.
"That is because I think he is the one who stole them. Let's go." She said and they began to climb the stairs.
*-*-*-*-*
Natalie and Alex emerged from the museum in time to see the tail lights of the Maserati flash red as Dylan braked slightly to get around the corner out of the parking garage. Natalie called, "Dylan? Dylan?" into her mouth mike but there was no answer.
"She's must be out of range," said Alex.
"Who do you think she was after?" asked Natalie still looking the off in the direction Dylan and driven.
"I don't know but I think its time we talked to Rutherford." With a swish of her skirt Alex turned and headed back into the Museum with Nat at her side.
*-*-*-*-*
"Sir," said the driver of the limousine to the man in the back, "some one is following us." The man looked out the back window. "Lose her. It's not the right time yet. She will find me only when I want her to."
"As you wish," replied the driver.
The passenger sighed. He wouldn't have had to tell his old driver that the man would have just known to lose the angel. His thoughts fueled his anger against Dylan and Anthony all the more as he thought of his beloved. "I wish. I definitely wish," he said under his breath.
Dylan zipped in and out of traffic trying to catch up to the Limo. Around her drivers honked and beeped their disapproval. She followed them down Broadway hoping to reach them before they made it to an on ramp of the Santa Monica freeway. She had a feeling the driver was holding back for safety's sake. "Funny considering who he is working for," said Dylan to herself. Suddenly her cell phone chirped to life. Fumbling with her bag on the passenger seat she managed to find the phone and answer while keeping one hand on the wheel and eyes on the road, "Yeah," she answered speeding around a corner.
"Dylan its Natalie. Where are you?" asked the blonde on the other end.
"Just turned off Broadway heading west", she said as she passed a McDonald's and a Wal-Mart. "I just cross Alameda Street." A loud honk followed her as she cut off a black pickup truck the driver gave her the finger. "Back at you buddy," yelled Dylan.
"Who are you after?"
"The one who got away," said Dylan cryptically. "Listen I need to hang up. I'll see you at the museum later." With that she pushed the disconnect button.
"Dylan? Dylan?" called Natalie into her cell phone. "Great, she hung up." Shrugging her shoulders she put the phone away and went to join Alex.
Neville Rutherford had been caught in conversation after he left Dylan. He and the other man were talking intently about which cricket team was going to win the cup this year. "London City all the way," said a distinguished gentleman in Armani. "I wouldn't be so sure," interjected Rutherford, "I think Woodford Green has a very good chance."
"Neville Rutherford?" he heard a female voice behind him call. "Yes," He said turning to find Alex standing there looking very authoritative.
"We need to talk." She grabbed the older man by the arm and led him to a quiet corner where Natalie was waiting.
"I seem to be quite popular with the ladies tonight. To what do I owe this honor?" he asked knowing perfectly well who they were.
"What did you tell Dylan?" Alex demanded.
"That she is a lovely lady and that I very much enjoy her company. Why? Was that a bad thing to say?" His eyes sparkled with laughter.
"She ran off," said Natalie, "Why?"
Natalie's words rang in his ears. He looked around the room spotting Anthony lingering near the terrace door. "If he hurt her I'll personal strangle him," said Rutherford angrily.
"Who?" Now Natalie was confused; obviously they all weren't on the same page. "Okay Rutherford let's start over," she said but he was already storming across the room towards the Thin Man with Alex and Natalie behind him. Looking at Alex Natalie said, "If I had known I was going to be running all over the place I would have worn different shoes."
Alex gave her a brief glance and said, "When don't we have to run all over the place?"
Anthony had just put out the cigarette he lit to calm down after his talk with Dylan on the terrace. He had just stepped inside when he noticed Rutherford stomping across the room with two angels in tow. "What now?" he wondered feeling very resigned to whatever they had in store for him.
"She is gone, did you have something to do with that my silent friend?" raged Rutherford at Anthony who maintained his cool unemotional façade. The silent assassin looked at the angels who seemed to be a bit out of breath then he wrote, "I don't know what you are talking about."
"Dylan," said Alex. "She ran out of here after someone." Rutherford turned to her confused and wondering how he had gotten the impression that Anthony was responsible.
"After who?" wrote Anthony.
"That is what we were hoping Rutherford could tell us," said Natalie.
"Why didn't you just say so?" asked the older man. "I don't know who she ran off after. I left her alone on the terrace with him."
"Did she say anything?" asked Anthony in writing and handing the note to Natalie.
"Just something about a man in a white suit with a gold cape," replied Natalie.
"Elvis?" asked Rutherford jokingly. Alex gave the man an evil look although that had been her question to Dylan. Something about that description reminded Anthony of someone he couldn't put his finger on and just as he was about to remember he lost the information again thanks to a woman's voice loudly yelling, "Positive!" They all looked over at Kate who was gesturing wildly to the curator.
*-*-*-*-*
The pimple faced teen walked up to Kate who was discussing the bizarre rare paintings of Rasputin with a dour, blue haired old woman. "Ms Dunayevskaya?" he said timidly while trying to get a glimpse down her cleavage. The women went on talking not hearing the young man next to them. "Ms. Dunayevskaya?" he said again a bit louder. She looked at the boy and smiled. A red blush crept up his neck turning his face scarlet.
"Yes, Ted is it?" she said reading the stick on "my name is." name tag he wore.
"Yes Ma'am. Uh Ms. Dunay." he began but Kate interrupted him. "Just Kate please." "Okay.Ms. Kate the curator, Mr. Hartman wants to talk to ya."
"Tell him I will be right there," she said dismissively and returned to her conversation with the dour woman.
"Uh." the teen stumbled, "Uh.Ms Kate he said it was like really important and that I shouldn't leave you alone until you talked to him." Kate flashed her smile at the woman and excused herself. As she and Ted walked over to the curator she said, "This better be important." She was shocked to see Mr. Hartman perspiring and dabbing at his receding hairline with a white handkerchief.
"Mr. Hartman, are you alright?" she said taking him by the arm and leading him to a chair.
"No Kate, I am not alright I received this note from someone who was here tonight and I wish to know if there is any truth to it." He held out the note for her inspection. She felt faint; someone knew that the eggs were fakes. She couldn't admit it yet, not there. She would tell Mr. Hartman in the morning and have the angels at her side. If she told him now, tonight it would cause undue attention to the fact they were missing and more than likely be in the newspaper by morning. She could even imagine it making international headlines and the Russians sending in their own officers. "No," she decided, "I'll deny it." "Mr. Hartman it must be some kind of sick joke, a prank. The eggs are perfect as they have been since they arrived here at the museum." She told herself it was the truth. They were the same eggs that had arrived at the museum. It was only a small white lie in the fact that she never said that they were the originals.
"Are you sure? I don't need to call the insurance agency for this or Mr. Petrov?"
"Positive," she said not missing the implied threat of contacting the head curator at the Hermitage. She hoped that she spoke with enough confidence to reassure her boss.
"Absolutely positive?"
"Positive," she said again although much louder than anticipated. It was that "positive" that attracted the attention of the angels, Anthony and Rutherford.
*-*-*-*-*
Dylan rounded another corner, she had the idea that they were doubling back but a fire truck pulled in front of her and she lost sight of him. She drove the streets of downtown LA for a few more minutes hoping to spot the long white vehicle then stopped. She slammed her fists against the steering wheel in frustration. She knew it had to be him, but why? Was it possible he was just a guest on the list? She hadn't seen him when she arrived and with what he was wearing she was sure either she or one of the other angels would have seen him.
She seemed to be filled with too many questions and not enough answers. Then it occurred to her maybe Rutherford had given her the answer in the form of an assassin named Francisco Javier Duarte. She had wondered why an assassin would be used to steel the eggs and now she knew. "Because the man had connections to the best of them," she said out loud. She threw the car into reverse and headed back to the museum. Finally something was making sense to her.
*-*-*-*-*
Kate was pleased that the curator believed her. She didn't want to have to deal with the police and if they were called in they would have to find another expert and she was sure that Hartman would have requested that Petrov be flown in. A waiter walked by and she grabbed a glass off the tray, gulped it down and took another. She looked at Anthony who arched an eyebrow at her as he arrived at her side. "It's been a tough evening," she snapped at him.
"What happened," asked Natalie.
Kate was about to speak she noticed Rutherford lingering off to the side of the group. "Who is he?" she asked.
"Neville Rutherford at your service," he said with an exaggerated bow. "You might remember me from earlier when you declined my request to cut in." She remembered him. He had been dancing with Dylan but why he was there sticking his nose into her business. She looked between the two angels and said, "I'd rather speak somewhere private, my office perhaps?"
"Sure let's go," said Natalie. Kate was a little surprised at the quick agreement and led them towards the exit. "Wait a minute. If we all leave at once its sure to draw attention."
"We don't know where your office is," said Rutherford. Kate gave him an angry look wondering what he had to do with this case. She said to Natalie, "You remember where my office is right?" Natalie nodded. "Good. Then Anthony and I will go and in five minutes or so you bring Alex and him," she pointedly looked at Rutherford, "along as well." She reached for Anthony's arm but he stepped away and wrote a note. Handing her the slip of paper he walked over to the door Kate unfolded, read it then threw it in a small trash receptacle. "Fine Alex, then you come with me . Anton should you chose to join us my office is on the third floor." The two women walked off together and Natalie and Rutherford waited.
*-*-*-*-*
Dylan took the elevator back to the museum entry level. Her eyes shone with excitement and determination, she had a suspect and now all they had to do was prove that he did it. As she stepped out of the elevator she ran into Anthony standing there smoking a cigarette. She couldn't help but smile when she saw him regardless of what had been said earlier.
He noticed her smile and put out the cigarette as he felt his heart stop and he stepped in front of her. "You need to move I have to talk to Alex and Nat." He shook his head. "Anthony, let me by I have to tell them what I found out." He shook his head again and took a breath then said, "They went to Kate's office." Her smiled changed to a look of concern, "Did something happen?"
"Whoever you went after found out about the eggs," he said.
"That is because I think he is the one who stole them. Let's go." She said and they began to climb the stairs.