implemented at the MoMA.”
“I am a lifetime trustee of the museum, and my access—although not as complete as Abby’s—was
considerable. It was not difficult to arrange its removal. It was simply a matter of having the statue
moved for cleaning and extracting it. It was a very good thing I had the foresight to do so: The
treasure would have been discovered or damaged had I left it. When Celestine Clochette did not
come, I knew that I must simply hold on and wait.”
Bruno said, “There must have been safer ways of securing something so precious.”
“Abby believed the treasure would be most safe in a populated environment. Together the
Rockefellers created magnificent public spaces. Mrs. Rockefeller, always a practical woman, wanted
to use them. Of course, with such priceless pieces of art inside, the museums were also the most
secure locations on the island of Manhattan. The Sculpture Garden and the Cloisters are under
constant scrutiny. Riverside Church was a more sentimental choice—the Rockefeller family built the
church on the site of Mr. Rockefeller’s former school. And Rockefeller Center, the great symbol of
Rockefeller power and influence, was a nod to the Rockefellers’ social standing in the city. It
represented the range of their power. I suppose Mrs. Rockefeller could have thrown all four pieces
into a bank vault and left it at that, but it wasn’t her style. The hiding places are symbolic: two
museums, a church, and a commercial center. Two parts art, one part religion, and one part money—
these are the exact proportions by which Mrs. Rockefeller wished herself to be remembered.”
Bruno gave Evangeline a look of amusement at Alistair Carroll’s speech, but said nothing.
Alistair Carroll left the room and returned after some moments with a long rectangular metal
casket. He presented it to Evangeline and gave her a small key. “Open it.”
Evangeline inserted the key into a tiny lock and turned. The metal mechanism ground against itself,
rust blocking its progress, and then clicked. Opening the lid, Evangeline saw two long thin bars,
slender and golden, resting in a bed of black velvet.
“What are they?” Bruno asked, his surprise apparent.
“Why, the crossbars, of course,” Alistair said. “What did you expect?”
“We thought,” Evangeline said, “that you were keeping the lyre.”
“The lyre? No, no, we did not hide the lyre at the museum.” Alistair smiled as if he were at last
allowed to tell them his secret. “At least not all of it.”
“You took the liberty of dismantling it?” Bruno asked.
“It would have been much too risky to hide it in one place,” Alistair said, shaking his head. “And
so we disassembled it. It is now in four pieces.”
Evangeline stared at Alistair in disbelief. “It is thousands of years old,” she said at last. “It must be
extraordinarily fragile.”
“It is a surprisingly sturdy instrument,” he said. “And we had the help of the best professionals
money could buy. Now, if you don’t mind,” he said, leading them back to the fireplace and taking a
seat in the armchair. “There are a number of pieces of information I have been entrusted to relate to
you.
As I mentioned, Mrs. Rockefeller assumed that the pieces would be collected by one person and that
they would be retrieved in a certain order. She planned the recovery in a very meticulous fashion.
The Museum of Modern Art was the first location—thus she included a card with my name for you—
followed by Riverside Church, the Cloisters, and then Prometheus.”
“Prometheus?” Evangeline asked.
“The statue of Prometheus at Rockefeller Center,” Alistair said, straightening in his chair so that he
appeared suddenly taller, more patrician than before. “The order was arranged in this fashion so that I
could give you specific instructions, as well as words of advice and caution. You will find a man at
Riverside Church, one Mr. Gray, an employee of the Rockefeller family. Abby trusted him with the
position, but frankly I don’t understand why. One cannot say if he has remained attentive to Mrs.
Rockefeller’s wishes after all these years—he has come to me on a number of occasions requesting
money. In my book, indigence is never a good sign. In any event, if there is time, I suggest you bypass
Mr. Gray altogether.” Alistair Carroll removed a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his tweed
jacket and unrolled it on the coffee table. “This shows the exact location of the lyre’s sound chest.”
Alistair Carroll gave Evangeline the paper so that she might examine the maze at its center.