by R D Hathaway
“Very well, Professor.”
“I imagine, after one takes these in, documents them, sets them on the shelf and handles them in more routine fashion, the wonder of it all may lessen.”
The young woman said nothing, but continued sorting.
“Miss Shefford, how many actual items have you taken in so far from this expedition, and how many are yet to arrive?”
“Oh, I can answer that, sir. We have received at this point, except for these that we are itemizing now, 619 thus far, and there are approximately 4,200 total items in the find that we know of.”
A breathless sense of shock ran through him. “Miss Shefford, where are all of the items, those that are here now and those that are yet to come? What is the process?”
Justus laid the whip down on his desk, leaned forward and looked intently at his associate.
The woman neatly stacked the index cards on one side of her desk, assembled the paperwork she was working on, moved that to another part of her desk, and turned to face Matthias.
“At the excavation site Professor, there are certain individuals who are trained in excavation procedures, based upon a field notes manual of The British Museum. I shall see that you receive a manual later today.”
She continued to explain the process in specific detail; from the moment an item is found until it arrives in London.
“Where does it all go?” he asked in amazement.
“We have a section of the lower level set aside for the preliminary sorting of artifacts from many finds across the world, including the Tutankhamun discovery. Most are from the new find at Oxyrhynchus. We will focus on those. There’s another area of the lower level for pre-display storage and for permanent collection storage. From the preliminary sorting in the lower level, the items are brought up here on the lift for us to catalogue and make recommendations as to whether any special maintenance needs may be required or whether the item should be on display. Once that is done, they return on the lift to the permanent storage section in the lower level. The Keeper, Mr. Budge, is currently in Egypt, overseeing the initial documentation of all the artifacts. He has been quite brilliant in assembling much of the Egyptian collection, and he is renowned not only for his expertise in finding and identifying antiquities, but also for his shrewd efforts in obtaining them.”
As Matthias listened, intently analyzing the process she described, he studied the young woman’s delicate features, watching her lips move and the small, auburn curls of hair at her temples tapping at her ears. He began to wonder how old she was and how she came to this unique and meaningful position. “Miss Shefford, I’m impressed with everything about The British Museum, and I’m also impressed with you and Mr. Warrington. How did you happen to come here?”
“Well, Professor Justus, I didn’t happen to come here.”
With that, she turned in her chair and picked up her paperwork.
“Oh, I’m sorry ma’am. I didn’t mean anything derisive. I’m simply impressed and, well you are obviously well educated and, of course …”
She looked at Matthias. “And, of course, I am just a girl.”
“Oh, no, not that; but, …”
“But, what Professor?”
“Well, I don’t know. I’m just not acquainted with how things are done here.”
“Professor, perhaps when Mr. Warrington has further briefed you, we could proceed with the cataloging process.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you.”
Matthias got up and hurried over to a different row of wooden shelving. He walked past items of gold, pottery, and jewelry that he could not believe were available to his touch. As he moved, he occasionally looked past the items to see the young woman at her desk. With hands clasped behind him, he moved among the racks, studying every feature of each artifact.
When he reached the end of one row, he found himself face to face with Kenneth Warrington. “Oh, Mr. Warrington. I did not hear you arrive.”
“It is all well and good sir, to be appreciating the new collection, but of course, one could do this while we are cataloging them. The work that lies ahead of us is quite substantial, and we will need to get on with it.”
“Yes sir, of course. I’m eager to do that.”
“Has Miss Shefford advised you as to our processes?”
“Well, yes and she did a fine job. It was something of an overview, and we were going to be getting into the details next.”
“If you will come with me, Professor, I will introduce you to your benefactor, Lady Jane Sotterfeld-Gris.”
Warrington turned and made his way to the door.
For a moment, Matthias could not move. He quickly caught up to Warrington. “Mr. Warrington, I did not expect this, at least so soon. I’m delighted with the opportunity to meet, her ladyship; or, I’m not sure how to address her.”
“That’s quite all right. She is most sociable and a great benefactor to this institution. By her efforts and her own personal contributions, we’ve been able to obtain and to secure antiquities that have significantly enhanced the assets of The British Museum.”
Matthias removed a white handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his temples.
Warrington stopped, looked over Matthias’ shoulder and squinted. “What is that, Professor?” Warrington moved past him toward the desks. He stopped a few feet away and looked at the whip lying on the desk. He flexed his fingers, and his cheeks became pink.
Matthias followed and said, “Isn’t it wonderful?”
His smile evaporated when Warrington glared at him.
“Professor, there is only one activity we actually have here. We place in security valuable items of the past. Studying them and displaying them, in my opinion, is more frivolity than purpose. Please keep that in mind. Where does this go?”
Matthias grabbed the whip and put it on the shelf where he had found it. He looked back at Warrington. Together, they silently walked to the door and into the hallway. “Mr. Warrington, would it be possible to get a drink of water? It has been a long morning.”
Warrington stopped and looked at Matthias. His face softened. “Yes, of course. I regret I did not show you the facilities or our staff comfort area. Come with me.”
They entered a small room and Warrington opened the door to what might have been a closet. It was a pantry, in which personal belongings were neatly organized on shelves. At the end, there was a large container and coffee cups of different colors.
“This room is for staff, for meals and refreshment. You may use the cup that is blue, if you need one.”
“Thank you, sir. That will be fine.”
“In this container, we have drinking water for the staff; and, of course, the men’s lavatory is just outside your work room.”
“Would there be time for me to make a brief stop there before we meet Lady Sotterfeld-Gris?”
Warrington looked at his watch. “We must never keep the Lady waiting. Fortunately, she is not here at the moment.”
Matthias took the blue cup off the shelf, looked into it for a moment, and then filled it with water. He drank it down quickly and then a second cup. He excused himself and hurried to the men’s room.
In a few minutes, he returned to the break room and noticed Warrington standing in the hallway. His arms were folded in front of him, and he stared at the opposite wall.
“That was helpful,” Matthias awkwardly muttered.
The old man turned and began to walk down the hall. “Indeed.”
As they approached another gallery, Warrington’s mood lightened. “We normally greet our dignitaries in the Keeper’s office and reception area, and not in the collection rooms. The Lady prefers the collection items and is quite a scholar. She has supported a variety of excavations and discoveries, as well as supporting staff needs.
“I’m quite grateful to her for enabling me to come here t
o do this work. Would it be inappropriate for me to express that?”
“Not at all. Of course, it is not for our words that they do their giving.”
“Certainly.”
“We’ll be meeting the Lady in the Ethnographical Gallery. It’s just ahead, on the right. The room we are in, it is our Sixth Egyptian Room. As you see, it is mostly small items. You may have an interest in the books. They are of papyrus and are written in hieratic and hieroglyphics. You can find them over there. This is the Northeast staircase.”
Warrington made a broad, sweeping motion with his right arm. “The collections here are an overview of primitives from around the world. This is not one of my areas. Mr. Hobson is Keeper here. I believe you will find examples of some of the native cultures of America, as well. Your ‘red man,’ I believe.”
They walked past exhibits of tools, ornaments, weapons, and apparel from cultures in Africa, Asia, the Pacific islands, and America. Even Warrington appeared to be interested in some items.
“Kenneth, have I kept you?”
A woman’s voice echoed through the gallery. The men spun around.
From the far end of the gallery, the most elegant woman Matthias had ever seen was walking briskly toward them. She wore a lightweight, gray wool dress and jacket, and rising out of the jacket was a white silk blouse. Hanging beneath the silk collar was a silver necklace interrupted with small, oval sapphires and holding at its center an oval sapphire the size of the end of a man’s thumb. A small, gray hat of the same material as the dress perched slightly off center on her head. The silver pin in her hat held another oval sapphire on a coat of arms design. Her smile was confident, and her walk was graceful, but commanding.
Warrington moved forward with an astonishing smile on his face. Professor Justus was frozen in place. “My Lady, your timing is perfect as usual. It is a great privilege for us that you would visit us.”
Warrington looked down as a humble gesture. She extended her hand to him. Embarrassed, he reached out and briefly grasped her fingers.
She glanced over his shoulder at Matthias, and then looked into Warrington’s eyes. “How is your wife, Kenneth?”
“Very well, ma’am. Thank you for asking.”
Warrington suddenly appeared to be flustered.
“And, Kenneth, is this our new man?” She looked straight at Matthias.
Warrington whirled around and further surprised Matthias with the speed of his movement. “Yes, my Lady. Professor, I present to you Lady Jane Sotterfeld-Gris.”
After an awkward moment, Matthias stepped forward. He pressed his hands against his legs and looked at the floor.
Warrington continued. “My Lady, this is Professor Matthias Justus of Simpson College, United States of America.”
She extended her arm forward, presenting her hand. Matthias looked up and reached out to take her hand in his.
“How do you do, ma’am?”
They gazed at each other for a moment. She smiled broadly and finally said, “Well, Professor, I do quite well, thank you.”
They both blushed and turned to look at Warrington. He appeared to be quite confused.
“Well, Professor, the Lady is a patron of the Museum to the highest order, and we are grateful for her support.”
“Ma’am. I too am grateful for your allowing me the privilege to assist in this great project. For me, it is an opportunity of a lifetime.”
“Professor, your credentials were most impressive and, Keeper Budge and Kenneth here, were their typically brilliant selves in making this all happen. I am very pleased to see that you were able to accept the offer and that you made the journey. Was it agreeable to you?”
“Yes ma’am, most interesting. And, Mr. Warrington has been of great assistance in the arrangements.”
Warrington smiled and looked down.
“Well, he has always been helpful to me, as well.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Warrington’s cheeks became pink.
“Kenneth, may we see some of the items with which Professor Justus will be working? I assume they are arriving.”
“Oh, yes, my Lady. They are indeed. Please, this way.”
Warrington nearly bowed as he swept his arm toward the end of the gallery. As the Lady and Warrington moved ahead, Matthias followed, studying her with intensity but discretion. Occasionally, she would pause to look at one of the exhibits.
“Professor, don’t you think that people, especially of other cultures, are just the most interesting?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
Warrington looked back at Justus, but he was not smiling.
“So, Kenneth, how is the girl doing?”
“Thank you for asking, ma’am. She is adequate. I expect she will be able to assist Professor Justus without inhibiting his progress.”
“Let’s hope so. Keep me informed. I assume the Archbishop is aware of her performance.”
“Yes, ma’am, I have kept him apprised.”
Matthias listened carefully to the conversation.
When they reached the workroom, Warrington stopped at the door and bowed briefly as Lady Jane entered the room.
She walked directly to the first row of wooden shelves, gesturing to the artifacts with an open hand and repeatedly saying, “Oh, my.” She smoothly turned and nodded to the men. “Yes, Kenneth, you have treasures here, wouldn’t you say Professor?”
In unison, both men said, “yes, ma’am.”
Matthias noticed that Miss Shefford had stood up and turned to face them, but she looked at the floor. Lady Jane walked past the woman without acknowledging her. When she came to the end of the wooden shelving, she glided up to Matthias.
“Professor, once you have had a chance to get started, I would be most grateful if you could acquaint me with some insights of what we are receiving from Egypt. I am certain these are treasures of the first order.”
He couldn’t suppress a smile. “Of course, I would be pleased to do so. I am here to serve you.”
“How nice, Professor. I look forward to that.”
She turned toward Warrington and slipped her arm under his, guiding him toward the door. “If you need anything at all, or if Professor Justus needs anything, just let me know.”
With a quick grin at Matthias, and a slight flip of her hand, she left the room.
Matthias heard a noise behind him. Priscilla was slapping her note cards onto the desk as if she was squashing bugs.
Des Moines, Iowa
The Des Moines Record
II - 3
“Rennie, get your butt in here. What? Okay, PLEASE get your butt in here.”
Bud Shuster banged down the phone and dropped into his chair. He picked up a sheet of paper, reviewed it quickly, and tossed it onto his desk.
Rennie arrived and sat down in the guest chair. “Yeah, boss, what’s up?”
Bud stared at her for a moment. He picked up her story copy. “Do me a favor. That was all I asked. A simple story about some long dead, small town, college professor so I could score some points with a local big shot. And, what do I get? You lay down a screaming headline, ‘Simpson Professor Murdered?’ Rennie, can’t you be nice and fit in a box like everyone else?”
She rested on one arm of the chair.
“Listen,” he continued. “Maybe, it’s possible, he got killed over there. It’s all over and it’s too bad. But you raise questions in this.”
He picked up her copy and shook it. “Don’t raise the questions if there isn’t an answer or if you can’t get one. I even had a call from upstairs about this stupid story. Upstairs! They never call unless I’m stepping on somebody’s turf or they need to crank up the revenues or cut costs. Get rid of this story, and quietly Rennie.”
“I’d love to, Bud. You wanted a quick story about this guy, and this is what we’ve got. Hey, maybe it’
s King Tut’s curse, right here in ol’ Iowa.”
She waved her arms like a ghost. “Bud, I have other things to do. At the same time, it’s a shame that a talented guy like this could be forgotten. Tone it down if you want. You got the red pencil. I’d like this guy to have his day.”
Bud fell back in his chair, exhausted, and stared at the ceiling. “I didn’t plan on you moving to Indianola. Take another look at it and see if you can find a way to wrap this up. Life goes on, and I’d like my life to go on without calls from upstairs!”
Rennie got up, shaking her head. As she walked toward the door, she looked back. “Bud, I don’t know what happened, but I think it was important. There’s an important truth lying in this and I want to find it. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Just do it quickly. We’ve got living people to take care of.”
He waved at her and turned to pick up his phone. He didn’t need more trouble.
***
She walked with determination back to her desk. Opening an expandable file folder, she removed a spiral binder and flipped through the pages. “Ah ha! Here you are Ms. Knoche. You thought I’d forget you, huh?”
Rennie studied the notepad, and then dialed. She asked for Mrs. Knoche.
“Hi, this is Rennie Haran from the Record. I’d like to visit with you again, briefly. When would be good for you? I just had a few questions.
“Can’t you just leave it be?” the old woman responded.
Rennie heard a click and a dial tone. She stared at the phone. “Okay, lady. Now I’m coming for you.”
She pulled two file folders out of the larger one and opened them on her desk. She organized selected pages into one pile. “What am I missing here?”
Rennie grabbed her notepad and pen. She wrote on separate lines:
Motivation?
Why police at British Museum?
How died?
Who is the Lady?
She drew a line through and changed the last one to, Who and how connected to the Lady?
Looking over her notes again, she added a new line - What happened to everyone -
