Brisbane shot his cuffs and turned to her again. Then his eyes flicked to the door, and Nora’s gaze followed.
Standing in the doorway, hands folded before him, was Dr. Collopy himself. The director cut a fearsome, almost sinister figure as he silently walked the halls of the Museum, his thin frame dressed in formal severity, his profile that of an Anglican deacon’s, his posture rigid and forbidding. Collopy, who came from a long background of gentleman scientists and inventors, had an enigmatic demeanor and a quiet voice that never seemed to be raised. To top it off, the man owned a brownstone on West End Avenue in which he lived with a gorgeous new wife, forty years his junior. Their relationship was the subject of endless comment and obscene speculation.
But today, Director Collopy was almost smiling. He took a step forward. The angular lines of his pale face looked much softer than usual, even animated. He actually took her hand between his own dry palms, eyes looking closely into hers, and Nora felt a faint and wholly unexpected tingle. She abruptly saw what that young wife must also have seen—a very vital man was hidden behind that normally impenetrable facade. Now, Collopy did smile—and when he did so, it was as if a heat lamp was switched on. Nora felt bathed in a radiance of charm and vigor.
“I know your work, Nora, and I’ve been following it with tremendous interest. To think that the great ruins of Chaco Canyon might have been influenced, if not built, by the Aztecs—it’s important, even groundbreaking stuff.”
“Then—”
He silenced her with a faint pressure to her hand. “I wasn’t aware of the cuts in your department, Nora. We’ve all had to tighten our belts, but perhaps we’ve done so a little too indiscriminately.”
Nora couldn’t help glancing at Brisbane, but his face had shut down completely: it was unreadable.
“Fortunately, we are in a position to restore your funding, and on top of that give you the eighteen thousand you need for those critical carbon-14 dates. I myself have a personal interest in the subject. I’ll never forget, as a boy, visiting those magnificent Chacoan ruins with Dr. Morris himself.”
“Thank you, but—”
Again, the faint squeeze. “Please don’t thank me. Mr. Brisbane was kind enough to bring this situation to my attention. The work you are doing here is important; it will bring credit to the Museum; and I personally would like to do anything I can to support it. If you need anything else, call me. Call me.”
He released her hand ever so gently and turned to Brisbane. “I must be off to prepare my little speech. Thank you.”
And he was gone.
She looked at Brisbane, but the face was still an opaque mask. “Now you know what will happen if you do get with the program,” he said. “I’d rather not go into what will happen if you don’t.”
Brisbane turned back to the mirror, gave himself one last look.
“See you tonight, Dr. Kelly,” he said mildly.
TWELVE
O’SHAUGHNESSY FOLLOWED PENDERGAST UP THE RED-CARPETED STEPS toward the Museum’s great bronze doors, convinced that every eye in the place was on him. He felt like a jerk in his policeman’s uniform. He let his hand drop idly to the butt of his gun, and felt gratified as a nearby tuxedoed man gave him a decidedly nervous glance. He further consoled himself with the thought that he was getting time and a half for this dog-and-pony show—and time and a half from Captain Custer was nothing to sneeze at.
Cars were lining up along Museum Drive, disgorging beautiful and not-so-beautiful people. Velvet ropes held back a small, disconsolate-looking group of photographers and journalists. The flashes of the photographers’ cameras were few and far between. A van with the logo of a local television station was already packing up and leaving.
“This opening for the new Primate Hall is rather smaller than others I’ve attended,” said Pendergast as he glanced around. “Party fatigue, I expect. The Museum’s been having so many these days.”
“Primates? All these people are interested in monkeys?”
“I expect most of them are here to observe the primates outside the exhibition cases.”
“Very funny.”