Lena stood up and closed her tablet, sliding it into her leather bag.

“We need to move quickly, Nora,” Lena said, turning to me.

“He is going to try to liquidate whatever he can reach before the banks freeze the accounts tomorrow morning.”

“I saw him looking at the paintings,” I said.

“He knows the gallery collection is the only thing not tied up in the hospitality group’s active bankruptcy.”

“He will contact his buyer in Zurich tonight,” Lena said.

Just then, the screen of my phone on the table lit up.

It was an alert from the Darrow House security system, indicating a motion sensor had been triggered in the West Gallery upstairs.

I picked up the phone and looked at the live feed.

The camera showed the door to the gallery opening, but it was not Grant who entered.

A tall man in a dark trench coat was carrying a large, empty shipping crate down the hallway.

Beside him walked Philip, Grant’s brother, holding a set of keys.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I stared at the screen.