Free Cradle of Solitude by Alex Archer Page B

asked.
    â€œWait for someone to come get you,” was the reply.
    â€œCan you at least call down and let Dr. Reinhardt know I’m here waiting?”
    â€œNo. Sorry.”
    Yeah, I’ll just bet you are, she thought.
    It seemed that something was terribly wrong. Therewas no way she was just going to stand and wait; she’d be here all day. If the officer wouldn’t call down to the lab, she’d just have to do it herself. She pulled out her cell phone and called Bernard’s office.
    The phone rang several times and then went to voice mail.
    She hung up without leaving a message and tried again. “Come on, Bernard,” she coaxed beneath her breath as she waited for him to answer.
    No luck.
    Annja was trying to figure out what to do next when she caught sight of Commissaire Laroche crossing the lobby behind the police line.
    â€œCommissaire!” she called. “Henri!”
    He turned at the sound of his first name, recognized her and made his way across the room.
    â€œWhat can I do for you, Miss Creed?”
    Annja smiled, trying to ease the tension she could see on his face. Something must have happened to one of the museum’s pieces, she thought.
    â€œI’m sure you have your hands full with whatever this all is,” she began, waving her hand to indicate the police officers milling about, “but I’m due to continue work on the Metro skeleton with Bernard and the officer on duty won’t let me past the police tape.”
    Henri stared at her for a long moment, his expression inscrutable.
    â€œYou haven’t heard, have you?”
    Her stomach clenched as anxiety shot through her. “Bernard? Is he…?”
    â€œProfessor Reinhardt is fine, Miss Creed,” Laroche said gently, putting a hand on her arm as he realized the distress his offhand comment had caused her. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”
    â€œWell, if it’s not Bernard, then what… It’s Captain Parker, isn’t it?”
    His brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Captain Parker?”
    Annja remembered that they hadn’t informed anyone of their suspicions yet. “The skeleton from the Metro.”
    Henri’s eyes widened. “You’ve identified the body already?”
    They had as far as she was concerned, but she knew that they didn’t have enough conclusive evidence to prove it yet so she explained that all they had at the moment were a few suspicions and that they were using the name as a matter of convenience only.
    â€œIt seemed more respectful than referring to him as ‘the skeleton’ all the time. I think we’re getting closer, though, and I can show you what we’ve done so far if you’d like.”
    â€œI see. That’s too bad—you had my hopes up for a moment there. You see, proving your theory is going to be much more difficult now, as the museum was burglarized during the night and the thieves made off with the skeleton.”
    Annja couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Why would someone steal the skeleton?
    Laroche’s next comment made her heart sink.
    â€œProfessor’s Reinhardt’s office was ransacked, as well.”
    Annja grimaced. “Our notes and photographs?”
    The commissaire shook his head. “Gone, as well, I’m afraid.”
    At least they still had the Davis letter in their possession. Bernard had insisted on locking it away in the museum’s vault for safekeeping the minute he’d recognized the letter’s potential value. If the U.S. government didn’t exercise their right to claim it, there weremore than two dozen universities and museums he could think of off the top of his head that would pay handsomely to add it to their collections, his own included. He hadn’t been inclined to take any chances with it. And thank heaven for that.
    Laroche was looking at her expectantly, making her realize that she must have missed his