is where we’re meeting her?” I asked, stunned. It wasn’t—it couldn’t be…
“Yep,” Matty said, shaking his head with a laugh and walking forward.
“But…,” I said, hurrying to catch up, still not understanding, as we walked toward the large white building in front of us.
Also known as the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
* * *
I’d been to the Met a lot over the years. With my mother, mostly, either on trips into New York specifically to go museuming, or when we were in town to see a show and she just wanted to pop in. She’d also bring me along sometimes for exclusive preview events—one of her perks as the Pearce curator. My grandmother had loved the Frick the best, and my mother preferred the Whitney or the Guggenheim (in New York, that is—her favorite museum anywhere was Crystal Bridges in Arkansas). But although I had a soft spot for MoMA and I loved going to the Neue Galerie to see Klimt’s Woman in Gold (and eat their café’s apple strudel), my favorite museum had always, always been the Met.
There was something about the sweep of it, how epic the collection was. All the centuries and schools and time periods it encompassed in one single building. I’d been there more times than I could count—but until now, I’d never been there at night.
As we walked up to the museum, I smiled as we passed a poster for an upcoming show. The Early Art of Hugo LaSalle: From Pittsburgh, with Love was written in a font that was meant to look like graffiti. It wasn’t coming to the Met until next month, but I’d heard all about it. My mom had lent them several paintings from the Pearce’s collection for it. And apparently, there would even be a section of it devoted to the mystery of New York Night number three.
The poster for the show was a blown-up Polaroid of a young-looking Hugo LaSalle. He was standing in front of a small house, an overstuffed suitcase on the steps next to him. In the background, you could see a white moving truck with CARUSO & TASSO painted on it in bright blue letters.
I looked at the image for a moment longer before hobbling faster to catch up with Matty. Something was ringing a faint bell, like this was familiar in some way to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe I’d seen this picture before, in one of the many LaSalle books around our house, and just hadn’t remembered?
We climbed the stairs to the front entrance—the museum was closed for visitors, but there were still people sitting on the steps, though the fountains on either side had been turned off for the night. I tried not to gape as we walked up to the entrance, but it was hard—it was all lit up, light spilling out from inside the building and lights outside, the white marble columns framing the long red banners that read THE MET, just in case you weren’t quite sure you were at the right massive art museum.
Matty had texted Margaux that we were there, and we were brought inside by the security guards and her assistant, a guy named Zephyr who was in his twenties and seemed extremely put-upon.
“Come with me,” he said with an irritated sigh, after we’d gone through the metal detector and pulled off our coats. “Margaux did not tell me she was having guests. Like I need more things to handle…”
“I don’t think we’ll be here long,” Matty assured him as we stepped into the Great Hall. He looked up, just like I did, and my jaw dropped.
We were practically alone, in my favorite museum, at night. The information desk was empty, and the usual throngs of people were just gone. The wooden benches were empty, the seated pharaoh statue was keeping watch over nobody. I looked up at the vaulted ceilings and skylights, at the vases of flowers, at the darkened members’ desk and closed coat check, at all the marble everywhere.
It was like something out of a dream I hadn’t even had yet.
“What is that?” Zephyr asked, stopping short and frowning at Brad, who gave him a doggie smile.
“That’s… Brad,” I said after a moment.
“Margaux knows about him,” Matty added.
“I don’t think the security,” Zephyr mouthed this last word, “is going to let you have a dog in the museum.”
“He’s an emotional support animal,” Matty and I said at the same time, and then I had to bite my lip