The Darkest Day

THIRTY-TWO

Victor saw no more of the man in the blue suit while he scouted through the rest of the museum, but he had only identified a fraction of the watchers. Twenty-one men formed a huge crew. To shadow one man it seemed beyond excessive, but after Victor had managed to steal Halleck away from eleven men it made a certain sense. Halleck was taking no chances. As eleven hadn’t been enough, he had almost doubled the number of men. But the eleven in Ireland had been there to protect him. The twenty-one in New York were here to keep track of Victor. That didn’t make sense.

The watcher on the train wouldn’t know the overall objective. If he had, he would have told Victor. He had been too intimidated to withhold any information. And he knew Victor wouldn’t let him walk away a second time, so however the watcher managed it, he would find a way to get out of his duty — pretending to be sick or injured or perhaps even going AWOL. Whatever the excuse, Victor had taken the total number of Halleck’s men down to twenty. Still a huge opposition. Although, at least for now, they were just a nuisance.

It was a task made more difficult whilst trying to hunt down Raven without her knowledge. He kept moving. He didn’t know how long she would be in the museum. There was a chance that if Raven was in motion too, he might fail to see her as they both passed along their separate routes, never crossing through the same place at the same time. It was a risk he had to take. This was the only lead he had. With federal agents on to her safe house, Raven might never return to it, and Victor might not get another opportunity to take her by surprise.

Then, he might only see Raven again in the second before she killed him.

The museum housed a number of cafés and bars where visitors and staff alike took breaks for refreshment and reflection. He checked them all out because if Raven was meeting someone here one of these locations seemed an obvious place. He drank a bottle of water to stay hydrated, but did not linger in any one place. He had to be fast. He was running out of time.

In the Ming-style scholar’s garden of Astor Court he saw a woman from behind who was an equal for Raven’s height and physique, but on closer inspection she proved to be a negative match.

He headed for the Modern Art wing and ascended to the museum’s roof and its outdoor sculpture gallery and garden. The roof garden would be a good place for a meeting — no through traffic of tourists; fewer opportunities to be observed and overheard. It was ten to four. The cool air was refreshing and now the rain had ceased the autumn sunshine felt warm on his face. Visitors stood, mouths open, awed by the magnificent views of Central Park.

He wandered around the roof garden, his gaze passing over tourists and art lovers, looking out for slim women over five foot nine or the man in the blue suit.

The sculptures were comprised of installations by contemporary and twentieth-century artists, changed each year. Victor had little time for modern art, but the arrangement of the sculpture garden, its position on the roof, and the sweeping backdrop of the park to the west of the city made it a pleasurable space. The sculptures were almost unnecessary. The panoramic view of Manhattan alone was worth the trip up to the roof. The sun was low and the skyline to the west was a silhouette of black against blazing red and orange.

He saw a woman in a grey dress standing by the wall and hedge on the roof garden’s southern edge. She had her back to him as she gazed out. At what, he didn’t know. He judged her to be five-nine, made almost six feet by heels. She had dark hair tied up in a bun. The height and physique were right. She was alone. If she was here to meet someone they hadn’t arrived or had already gone.

As he neared he adjusted his trajectory, wandering close to sculptures he did not understand to disguise his intentions. He looked around. The whole area was busy with people engrossed in the sculptures, the views or one another.

This would not be a clean kill. There would be witnesses. It might even be captured as an image or video recording by the numerous cameras and cell phones that were everywhere.

He wanted to end the threat now. He didn’t know when, or if, he would get another opportunity to strike.

But the risk of exposure was too high. He would follow her instead and wait for a better opportunity.

He became aware of someone standing next to him a second before Raven said, ‘Do you have a light?’