The Sky is Falling. Sidney Sheldon
wish I could,’ Jeff said ruefully.
The remote from France came to an end and they switched to a commercial. Gary Winthrop sat down and watched as the commercial ended.
From the control booth, Anastasia Mann said, ‘Stand by. We’re going to tape.’ She silently counted off with her index finger. Three … two … one …’
The scene on the monitor flashed to the exterior of the Georgetown Museum of Art. A commentator was holding a microphone in his hand, braving the cold wind.
‘We’re standing in front of the Georgetown Museum of Art, where Mr Gary Winthrop is inside at a ceremony marking his fifty-million-dollar gift to the museum. Let’s go inside now.’
The scene on the screen changed to the spacious interior of the art museum. Various city officials, dignitaries, and television crews were gathered around Gary Winthrop. The museum’s director, Morgan Ormond, was handing him a large plaque.
‘Mr Winthrop, on behalf of the museum, the many visitors who come here, and its trustees, we want to thank you for this most generous contribution.’
Camera lights flashed.
Gary Winthrop said, ‘I hope this will give young American painters a better chance not only to express themselves but to have their talents recognized around the world.’
There was applause from the group.
The announcer on tape was saying, ‘This is Bill Toland at the Georgetown Museum of Art. Back to the studio. Dana?’
The camera’s red light came on.
‘Thank you. Bill. We’re fortunate enough to have Mr Gary Winthrop with us to discuss the purpose of his enormous gift.’
The camera pulled back to a wider angle, revealing Gary Winthrop in the studio.
Dana said, ‘This fifty-million-dollar donation, Mr Winthrop, will it be used to buy paintings for the museum?’
‘No. It’s for a new wing that will be dedicated to young American artists who might not otherwise have a chance to show what they can do. A portion of the fund will be used for scholarships for gifted children in inner cities. Too many youngsters grow up without knowing anything about art. They may hear about the great French impressionists, but I want them to be aware of their own heritage, with American artists like Sargent, Homer, and Remington. This money will be used to encourage young artists to fulfill their talents and for all young people to take an interest in art.’
Dana said, ‘There’s a rumor that you’re planning to run for the Senate, Mr Winthrop. Is there any truth to it?’
Gary Winthrop smiled. ‘I’m testing the waters.’
‘They’re pretty inviting. In the straw polls we’ve seen, you’re way ahead.’
Gary Winthrop nodded. ‘My family has had a long record of government service. If I can be of any use to this country, I will do whatever I am called on to do.’
‘Thank you for being with us, Mr Winthrop.’
‘Thank you.’
During the commercial break, Gary Winthrop said good-bye and left the studio.
Jeff Connors, sitting next to Dana, said, ‘We need more like him in Congress.’
‘Amen.’
‘Maybe we could clone him. By the way – how is Kemal?’
Dana winced. ‘Jeff – please don’t mention Kemal and cloning in the same breath. I can’t handle it.’
‘Did the problem at school this morning work out?’
‘Yes, but that was today. Tomorrow is –’
Anastasia Mann said, ‘We’re back. Three … two … one …’
The red light flashed on. Dana looked at the Tele-PrompTer. ‘It’s time for sports now with Jeff Connors.’
Jeff looked into the camera. ‘Merlin the Magician was missing from the Washington Bullets tonight. Juwan Howard tried his magic and Gheorghe Muresan and Rasheed Wallace helped stir up the brew, but it was bitter, and they had finally to swallow it along with their pride …’
At 2:00 AM, in Gary Winthrop’s town house in the elite north-west section of Washington, two men were removing paintings from the walls of the drawing room. One man wore the mask of the Lone Ranger, the other the mask of Captain Midnite. They worked at a leisurely pace, cutting the pictures out of the frames and putting their loot into large burlap sacks.
The Lone Ranger asked, ‘What time does the patrol come by again?’
Captain Midnite replied, ‘Four AM.’
‘It’s nice of them to keep to a schedule for us, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah.’
Captain Midnite removed a painting from the wall and dropped it onto the oak floor with a loud noise. The two men stopped what they were doing and listened. Silence.
The Lone Ranger said, ‘Try it again. Louder.’
Captain Midnite took down another painting and threw it heavily against the floor. ‘Now let’s see what happens.’
In his bedroom upstairs, Gary Winthrop was awakened by the noise. He sat up in bed. Had he heard a sound, or had he dreamed it? He listened a moment longer. Silence. Unsure, he rose and stepped out into the hallway and pressed the light switch. The hallway remained dark.
‘Hello. Is anyone down there?’ There was no answer. Downstairs, he walked along the corridor until he reached the door of the drawing room. He stopped and stared in disbelief at the two masked men.
‘What the hell are you doing?’
The Lone Ranger turned to him and said, ‘Hi, Gary. Sorry we woke you up. Go back to sleep.’ A Beretta with a silencer appeared in his hand. He pulled the trigger twice and watched Gary Winthrop’s chest explode into a red shower. The Lone Ranger and Captain Midnite watched him fall to the floor. Satisfied, they turned and continued to remove the paintings.
Dana Evans was awakened by the relentless ringing of the telephone. She struggled to sit up and looked at the bedside clock, bleary-eyed. It was five o’clock in the morning. She picked up the phone. ‘Hello?’
‘Dana …’
‘Matt?’
‘See how fast you can get down to the studio.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘I’ll fill you in when you get here.’
‘I’m on my way.’
Fifteen minutes later, hastily dressed, Dana was knocking on the door of the Whartons’ apartment, her next-door neighbors.
Dorothy Wharton opened the door, wearing a robe. She looked at Dana in alarm. ‘Dana, what’s wrong?’
‘I hate to do this to you, Dorothy, but I’ve been called to the studio on an emergency. Would you mind getting Kemal to school?’
‘Why, of course not. I’d be happy to.’
‘Thank you so much. He has to be there at seven-forty-five, and he’ll need breakfast.’
‘Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of it. You run along.’
‘Thanks,’ Dana said gratefully.
Abbe Lasmann was already in her office, looking sleepy. ‘He’s waiting for you.’
Dana walked into Matt’s office.
‘I