“What?” But it slowly dawned on her what he was saying. A Black man standing beside an open window of a Fifth Avenue museum, the alarm blaring—the situation would not end well.
While she’d only read about the protests in America in the papers, she’d witnessed firsthand the effects of the clashes between Blacks and whites in the UK. Several years ago in Notting Hill, a group of white teenagers had attacked a mixed-race couple, resulting in a week of violence. She and Polly had watched tearfully from their bedroom window as hundreds of whites gathered out in the street after dark, targeting Black men and sometimes even Black women, beating them bloody as the police stood by and egged the hooligans on. The situation in the United States was equally charged, if not more so.
A new idea hit her. “But if the power is out, won’t the alarm be turned off?”
“The system has its own backup generator. State-of-the-art security here at the Frick. Just installed last month. We wouldn’t want any strangers coming in and ransacking the place.” He eyed the vase and bookcase once more. “What were you just doing?”
“Trying to pass the time.” It wasn’t a lie.
“I see. Please don’t touch anything else. I was headed to the kitchen to see if there’s anything left over to eat. We should probably stick together. You coming?”
With that, all hope of escape deflated. She was stuck in a cold, dark house with this kid who was of no use whatsoever, who wasn’t even a proper employee. With no way of getting out.
She gave one last glance at the bookshelf and followed Joshua out of the room.
* * *
Two tired-looking sandwiches sat on a plastic tray in the basement kitchen; everything else had been piled up in the trash can. Joshua went to a cabinet and took down two plates, setting a sandwich on each one. “This looks like roast beef, and this one, ham. Do you have a preference?”
She pointed to the ham. “That one, I guess.”
“Would you like some water to go with it?”
“God, what I wouldn’t do for a cup of tea.”
He looked about, hands on his hips. “They have a catering kitchen down here, let me see what I can find. Stay here.”
He was gone before she could say anything further. A few minutes later, after she’d devoured half her sandwich, unable to wait any longer, he walked into the room with two steaming cups of tea on a tray.
“The catering kitchen is full of the basics, so we won’t starve.”
“That’s good to know, thank you.” The tea was warm and comforting, and made her forget for a quick moment what a mess she’d gotten herself into. On the table was an oversized book, and she pulled it toward her. The cover showed the same garden off the side of the house where she and the other models had squirmed in the snow, but in the spring. The snowdrifts were replaced by a wide expanse of green lawn, and the trio of French doors that led into the living hall were bracketed by two enormous magnolia trees in full bloom.
“It’s a history of the Frick Collection,” said Joshua. “I left one on each table for the photo shoot, in case anyone was interested.”
Veronica felt bad that she hadn’t even glanced at it during her lunch with Tangerine, nor had any of the others, she was sure. “Those trees are splendid.”
“They’re some of the largest magnolia trees in the New York area. Planted in 1939 by the board, and chosen because they represent transience, as the blossoms emerge and then drop away every spring.” This bloke was a walking advert for the place.
“Like the way this was a house and then a museum. The way the family was here and now they’re not.”
“Exactly.”
Same with the diamond: a family heirloom and then an unsolved mystery. But she didn’t say that out loud. Instead, they ate their sandwiches in an awkward silence.
Once Joshua was finished, he sat back and placed his hands on his thighs. “While we may not be able to get out, one thing I know we can do, because they did it during a holiday party in December, is light the fireplace in the living hall. I don’t know how much wood there is, but at least that way we won’t freeze to death before dawn.”
Up in the living hall, Joshua arranged some kindling and logs from the rack beside the fireplace while Veronica stood watching.
He placed a log on the fire and turned halfway around to look at her. “Do you want to take a seat or something?”
“I wasn’t sure if I should. If it was allowed.”
“As long as you don’t break it, I think we’ll be okay. Your girlfriends didn’t seem to have any awareness of how to sit in a chair this morning.”