Smithback started paging aimlessly through one of the monographs scattered about the worktable. “I understand she needs your help on something.”
Kawakita’s eyes narrowed. “She called last night, asking if she could run some data through the Extrapolation program. I told her it wasn’t ready yet.” He shrugged. “Technically, that’s true. I can’t vouch one hundred percent for the accuracy of its correlations. But I’m terribly busy these days, Bill. I just don’t have the time to shepherd somebody through the program.”
“She’s not exactly some scientific illiterate you need to lead around by the nose,” Smithback replied. “She’s doing some heavy-duty genetics research of her own. You must see her around this lab all the time.” He pushed the monographs aside and leaned forward. “It might not hurt to cut the kid a break,” he said. “It isn’t exactly an easy time for her. Her father died about two weeks ago, you know.”
Kawakita looked surprised. “Really? Is that what you were talking about in the staff lounge?”
Smithback nodded. “She hasn’t said much, but it’s been a struggle. She’s considering leaving the Museum.”
“That would be a mistake,” Kawakita frowned. He started to say something, then stopped abruptly. He leaned back in his chair and gave Smithback a long, appraising look. “This is a mighty altruistic gesture on your part, Bill.” He pursed his lips, nodding slowly. “Bill Smithback, the good Samaritan. New image for you, eh?”
“That’s William Smithback Jr. to you.”
“Bill Smithback, the Eagle Scout,” Kawakita continued. Then he shook his head. “Nope, it just doesn’t ring true. You didn’t really come down here to talk about Margo, did you?”
Smithback hesitated. “Well, that was one of my reasons,” he admitted.
“I knew it!” Kawakita crowed. “Come on, out with it.”
“Oh, all right,” Smithback sighed. “Listen: I’m trying to get some information on the Whittlesey expedition.”
“The what?”
“The South American expedition that brought back the Mbwun figurine. You know, the showpiece for the new exhibition.”
Recognition flooded Kawakita’s face. “Oh, yes. That’s the one old man Smith must have been talking about in the herbarium the other day. What about it?”
“Well, we think there’s some kind of link between that expedition and these murders.”
“What?” Kawakita said incredulously. “Don’t tell me you’re starting up with this Museum Beast stuff. And what do you mean, ‘we’?”
“I’m not saying I believe anything, okay?” Smithback replied evasively. “But I’ve been hearing a lot of strange stuff recently. And Rickman’s all tense about having the Mbwun figurine in the exhibition. Other things came back from that expedition besides this one relic—several crates, in fact. I want to find out more about them.”
“And what, exactly, do I have to do with all of this?” Kawakita asked.
“Nothing. But you’re an Assistant Curator. You have high-security access to the Museum computer. You can query the accession database, find out about those crates.”
“I doubt they’ve even been logged,” Kawakita said. “But either way, it wouldn’t matter.”
“Why not?” Smithback asked.
Kawakita laughed. “Wait here a minute.” He stood up and headed for the lab. In a few minutes he returned, a piece of paper in one hand.
“You must be psychic,” he said, handing over the paper. “Look what I found in my mail this morning.”
NEW YORK MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY
INTERNAL MEMORANDUM
To: Curators and Senior Staff
From: Lavinia Rickman
CC: Wright, Lewallen, Cuthbert, Lafore
As a result of recent unfortunate events, the Museum is under intense scrutiny by the media and by the public in general. This being the case, I wanted to take the opportunity to review the Museum’s policy on external communications.
Any dealings with the press are to be handled through the Museum’s public relations office. No comments on Museum matters are to be made, either on or off the record, to journalists or other members of the media. Any statements made or assistance given to individuals who are engaged in preparing interviews, documentaries, books, articles, etc. dealing with the Museum are to be cleared through this office. Failure to follow these guidelines will result in disciplinary action from the Director’s Office.
Thank you for your cooperation in this difficult time.
“Christ,” muttered Smithback. “Look at this. ‘Individuals engaged in preparing books.’ ”
“She means you, Bill,” Kawakita laughed. “So you ace? My hands are tied.” He extracted a handkerchief From his back pocket and blew his nose. “Allergic to bone dust,” he explained.