“No.” Gerome stopped and shook his head. “Someone zapped him as he came out of the stall. Whoever it was dragged him into the utility closet, stole his clothes and keys, and tied him up.”

One of the cops walked over. “Are you the boyfriend?”

“Yes.” Conor gave him his personal information. “Do you have any clues? What about tracking the GPS in her cell phone?”

“The town car is fitted with a GPS. We’re trying to get a position on it now.” The cop looked grim. “Her purse was found in the street in front of the museum. Her phone was inside.”

Pacing, Conor dialed the museum, but the after-hours message played. He tapped Gerome on the shoulder. “I’m going to the museum. Call me if anything happens here?”

“Will do,” Gerome said.

A police cruiser was parked at the curb in front of the museum. An officer was in the foyer, talking to the guards and a tall man Conor recognized from the fund-raiser as Louisa’s boss. Conor banged on the door. Cusack opened it.

Conor pushed his way inside and introduced himself. “Where’s Louisa?”

Cusack crossed his arms over his chest. “The police are reviewing the security camera footage. The guard saw Dr. Hancock walking toward a black sedan about fifty yards down the street. That’s all he saw. It was rush hour. Most of the office staff was heading out. We’re not open on Monday nights.”

A second cop hustled down the hall.

“Are you familiar with the museum murder case?” Conor asked.

“Every cop in the city knows about the case,” the cop said and then turned to Cusack. “Did anything unusual happen here today?”

“The whole office was out of sorts. Between the news that Isa Dumont had disappeared and Professor English had been arrested, everyone was in shock.” He paused. “I doubt that it’s connected, but just before she left, Dr. Hancock brought a box to my office. She claimed to have found it in one of the third-floor storage rooms. We’ve had a petty thief in the museum over the past few weeks. The box contained some of the items the staff had reported missing. I called the detectives in charge of the case. They weren’t available, so I left a message.”

“Would you show us the box?” the cop asked.

“Of course.” Cusack led them to his office. “We changed cleaning contractors this week in hopes that would solve the problem. The things seemed to go missing at night.”

Conor and the cop looked into the box of random personal items.

The cop pulled gloves out of his pocket and lifted the museum brochure onto the desk. He opened it, and a pile of papers fell out, including what appeared to be a map printed off the Internet. “It’s a map.”