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“What?” Finn said, pulling his sunglassesdown to reveal his eyes.
“What are you wearing?” Wintersasked, shaking her head.
“Oh, this little thing?” he said. “It’skind of a good luck charm. I take it on every vacation. It’s done me well onseveral trips. There was this one time when I was wearing this and I met awoman in a red dress on a balcony during a party. It looked out at sea. Shesaid she felt uncomfortable in her dress. I offered her this awesomeshirt. Before I knew it we were skinny dipping in the sea and then—”
“Finn! You can’t wear that duringan investigation,” Winters bemoaned.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “Ididn’t pack for this kind of heat and everything else I had was in my laundrypile. It was either this or going topless. I mean I could…” Finn started toundo some of the buttons.”
“Fine! Fine!” Winters repeated. “Keepit on. I think they frown on nudity in British museums.”
Finn grinned. “Excellent.” Hewalked past Winters toward the huge open doorway of the museum entrance and shewalked alongside him. “Besides, Winters, I’m a consultant, remember? I’m nottechnically employed by the British police force. In fact, Rob isn’t even payingme! I should check about that… Anyway, this will put people at ease. They’llunderestimate me and that’s when I’ll pounce. Suspects will think I’m insane.”
“Aren’t you?” Winters said.
“No comment.”
The two detectives quickly foundthemselves in the lobby of the museum. The walls were dotted with postersadvertising a World War II exhibition, and the cool polished floors and hugewhite ceiling made Finn feel like he was on a class trip back in school. But hehad always loved history, and if he hadn’t been on a case, he could have losthimself in the museum for hours.
A selection of pamphlets about theexhibition caught Finn’s eye and he started to peruse one of them.
Winters walked over to the glassticket office and took out her ID. A woman in the booth looked frightened atthe sight of it.
“I’m Inspector Amelia Winters withHertfordshire Constabulary. Can we speak to whoever is in charge, please?”
“Um,” the woman in the ticketbooth said as if swallowing at the back of her throat. “Mr. Hawkins is here. He…He’s the curator of the museum.”
Winters nodded. “And where is he?”
“In… In the main hall setting upthe Spitfire display piece.”
“Thank you,” Winters said, pullingat Finn’s short shirt sleeve.
Finn put down the pamphlet andheaded through another set of huge archways. “This place is great!” Finn said,his voice echoing as he took in the space.
They were standing in a hugecentral hallway. Straight in front of them was the skeleton of a massivebipedal dinosaur with huge jagged teeth.
“Look at that!” Finn said withboyish glee. He ran up to it. “Take my picture.”
“Finn…” Winters sighed, but shedidn’t protest any further. She took out her phone and quickly snapped a photo.
“And look,” Finn said, walkingover to a large white sign with golden writing. It showed a map of the museumand all of the different areas that sprouted off from the main hall throughlong hallways and rooms. Medieval knights, ancient Egypt, early hominids, Impressionistpaintings, the Roman Empire—the list went on and on.
Finn found himself momentarilycaught in a memory. It was of his dad before he ran out on him for good. One oftheir last days together was a trip to a museum. Finn had been so caught up in itas a twelve-year-old kid that he didn’t realize it was a parting gesture fromhis dad. A goodbye.
After that, Finn used to visitmuseums whenever he could as a kid. He’d sneak into places. In his mind at thetime was a hope: the hope that somehow he’d find his dad in one of thoseplaces, moving between the exhibits, and they would be reunited.
By the time he was fourteen, Finnknew that was just a fairy tale.
Finn felt his eyes welling upmomentarily, but his sunglasses shielded that sight from the world. He wascaught off guard by the memory. And he was caught off guard by something else,too.
A gentle hand touched his arm.Finn turned to see Winters next to him.
“Finn, are you okay?”
“Yup,” he said. “You know me. Goodtimes all the time.”
For a moment he stared at Wintersand she stared back. He saw in her eyes that she didn’t believe him. She hadseen something in him. A hint of the pain bubbling underneath the smile. Thefact that she could see that made him feel nervous, like suddenly all thatarmor he had built up around him for years was no longer any use.
