Museum Piece Crossword Clue Novels & Stories

Grayson POV I arrived early this morning on Museum island. I want to go through at least 2 Museums today before the sunset. It is going to be hard. I usually get lost in museums and totally forget about time. Today it is time for the Neues Museum. This museum showcases art from the prehistoric up to the middle Ages. I walk into the first floor there is a collection of early humans. There is a lot of ceramic pots and brass pots that were used at that time in Egypt. There are also pots with images painted on.

The museum was virtually empty for a Wednesday morning, apart from the few lurking employees and the primary school tour group that followed the museum guide around, we were the only other people scuffing up the polished floors. “According to my research, the moonstone was displayed here,” Jasper announced as he led us into a room filled with gemstones on display. “It was the centrepiece at the event.” We lingered around the room looking for nothing in particular. “Where do we even start?” I blew out a frustrated breath, nothing in this place looked like it held any traces of something that happened twenty years ago.

I leaned back on the sofa then turned to look at Rupert. He was looking at me as well— his face was leaning closer— until I could see his features clearly. His eyes looked amused. "I bought that in an exhibit. It was an exhibit of rare puzzle works by different people. And that piece was called 'Trauma' by the woman who made it." He put one arm on the back of the sofa before his body came closer to me. His face was so close, I could feel his breath— a mixture of alcohol and mint— fanning my flushed face.

Williams POV. The newly commenced national museum was busy with a lot of people and activities from all over the world. I walked alongside the Secretary of State, Robert Caldwell, a man whose influence could elevate Montgomery Enterprises to new heights. The museum, owned by the government, contained paintings and sculptures that held secrets and historical significance. The museum manager, a bespectacled man with a high tone, was guiding us through the exhibits. "This sculpture here," he said, pointing to a perfectly carved piece, "dates back to the 16th century and is said to contain hidden compartments used by spies of that era."

I wondered where they all were. We entered another room, the floor sloping gently downward, and I gasped. This small room was filled with treasures. It was a working museum, and they were all encased carefully behind glass. Right there before me, under sharp, halogen lights, were what must have been hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of ancient, priceless treasures. Gold crosses. Large, silver goblets. Medieval manuscripts…. I followed Caleb as he walked through the room and stopped before a long, vertical, glass case. Inside was a magnificent ivory staff, several feet long. He stared at it through the glass.

The museum’s basement smells of ancient dust and high-end air filtration. With twenty minutes left until midnight, I excused myself to the restroom, but instead, I followed the subtle glowing blue strips on the floor the ones marking the high-security transit lanes for the exhibition pieces. The antique silver loupe Evander gave me hangs heavy against my chest, a physical manifestation of my doubts. The temporary vault room is secured by a thick glass partition and a biometric lock. I step up to it, expecting the scanner to flash red. Instead, the console chimes softly and turns green.

To see pieces like this in a private setting was extraordinary. “Miles, this collection is museum quality.” “Thank you. I’ve tried to focus on pieces that speak to each other across centuries.” “The curation is brilliant.” “Coming from you, that means everything.” We paused in front of a sculpture I’d only seen in books. A piece worth more than most people’s houses. “How do you even ensure something like this?” “Very carefully. And very expensively.” Miles smiled, but there was something in his expression I couldn’t read.

"They were going to kill me, but the funny-looking girl stopped them. She fought them briefly, but two more people showed up. They helped drive the monsters off, and the weird girl headed toward the Maritime Museum." "How far away are we from the Museum?" Warren asked. "Maybe four or five kilometers," The bum yanked the fifty from Cyrus, "Now get out of here. I don't want trouble to find me." *** "Why go to a Musem?" Warren revved the engine and sped up to catch Cyrus. "A maritime Museum, no less," Cyrus slowed down, "Do you know anything about this gigas of yours?" "Very little, we know she was made with the aid of a book, called the Codex Gigas. It's been missing for months now. It isn't t

’ Without a second thought, Harvey pulled out his phone and searched for a website before projecting it on the TV screen in the main hall. Gabriel’s heart skipped a beat. “What are you doing? “You’re playing with your phone? “What’s the point?!” Harvey could not be bothered to reply when he tapped on the phone a couple more times. A news report showed up on the TV screen. “Claudius! “Treasure of the Ancestry Museum! “The painting never left the place as soon as it was found. “Are you sure this is real? “If it is, then I’m afraid you’ll have to be thrown behind bars for a long while.

The museum was a mausoleum of Vermon history—blueprints, models, and antique tools—but beneath the marble floor lay the one thing Silas had never put on display. “The frequency is stable,” Sophie murmured, her thumb clicking a button. “The floor plate is active. Now, the key.” I reached into the hidden pocket of my dress and pulled out the gold-plated sparrow key I’d taken from the locket. My hands shook as I knelt, searching for the microscopic seam in the floorboards that Marcus had highlighted on the digital blueprint. “He’s distracted?” I asked, my voice barely audible.