at her with dark, serious forward on his nose. His bushy eyebrows met in the center as he frowned. She wondered how many loans he’d turned down with that weighty expression. Laura told her that he had been shocked to discover how much power Diane had and how little the board had. She said he had been lobbying Vanessa to make changes. Were it not that the governance was Milo’s plan—and as far as Vanessa was concerned, Milo was a saint—she might have considered it.
Diane reminded herself that most of the people in the room were her friends. Not because she was nervous about what they were going to say to her, but because she was angry—angry with the reporter, with Madge, and with all of them for insisting on a board meeting. Before the meeting was over, she intended to wipe that what-do-you-have-to-say-for-yourself look off Barclay’s face.
Diane went to her place at the head of the long, polished mahogany table, unrolled the newspaper, smoothed it down on the shiny surface, and sat down. She looked at Madge, then at the others.
‘‘This article has created a problem for the museum,’’ she said in an even tone.
‘‘It looks to me like Miss Williams has created the problem,’’ interrupted Barclay. ‘‘Has she been suspended?’’
Diane looked over at him. ‘‘Mr. Barclay, you are trying to apply solutions when you don’t know what the problem is.’’
She turned her attention back to the rest of the board. They looked startled. Were they surprised she hadn’t come hat in hand? They were all frowning except Kenneth Meyerson, who winked at her. Don’t make me smile, she thought.
‘‘The museum’s reputation is seriously threatened,’’ continued Barclay.
He said that for Vanessa’s sake, thought Diane. He knew what phrases would get to her. Diane also knew that Vanessa would listen to what she had to say . . . and Vanessa was no fool. She came from a family of centenarians and supercentenarians and had more than sixty years’ learning from their experiences.
‘‘Mr. Barclay, a museum’s
danger. That’s the reality of
reputation is always in an enterprise that depends on acquiring objects in a field fraught with looters, smugglers, forgers, grave robbers, and sharks. That’s why we have procedures and a code of ethics for dealing with acquisitions.’’
‘‘Well, it looks like your procedures and ethics don’t work.’’ He tapped the table with his middle finger, reaching toward the newspaper in front of her.
‘‘How do you know?’’ asked Diane.
‘‘What?’’ he said, clearly surprised by her question.
‘‘How do you know the procedures didn’t work?’’ repeated Diane.
‘‘Look at the news.’’ This time his tapping was more of a hammering. ‘‘The newspapers . . . then television...now that damn radio talk show...’’
‘‘You accept that as authoritative? And where did the newspaper get its information?’’ she interrupted.
He hesitated, glanced at Madge beside him and then at the others.
‘‘Where there’s smoke there’s usually fire,’’ he said, still giving her his you-don’t-get-the-loan look.
Diane saw Laura wince. She knew how Diane hated bad analogies.
‘‘No, Mr. Barclay. Often there’s just someone lobbing smoke bombs.’’
His eyebrows parted as he looked at her for a moment.
Diane didn’t wait for a response. ‘‘When Dr. Williams finds an object for the museum, she researches the provenance before authorizing a purchase. If she needs to, she hires independent appraisers. Once the item is here, its provenance is audited by our staff. If Dr. Williams’ research is in error, the second check will find it. When the Egyptian artifacts came to us they were stored in the conservation lab, where they remain, unopened, awaiting the audit of their provenance. No one yet knows if there is a problem with them.’’ Diane cast her gaze around the table at all of them.
‘‘Let me explain to you what this article did.’’ She laid her hand flat on the newspaper. ‘‘It reports that a board member, Madge Stewart, admits that Dr. Williams knowingly purchased looted artifacts and that RiverTrail Museum possesses stolen antiquities.’’ Diane stopped to let that sink in. ‘‘And the story has been picked up by other news outlets.
‘‘The consequences to Dr. Williams have been severe. She’s getting hate mail calling her a thief and worse. The University of Pennsylvania canceled her lecture series. Out of the blue, her reputation is in tatters with no proof whatsoever of wrongdoing. As for the museum—at best we look incompetent, at worst we look disreputable.’’ Diane paused. The board members exchanged glances.
‘‘Why did you think it was true?’’ Laura asked Madge.
‘‘The reporter told me it was,’’ she said.
‘‘Oh, Madge,’’ muttered Vanessa.
‘‘Christ,’’ said Barclay, snatching off his glasses.
‘‘Why would she say it was true if it wasn’t?’’ Madge looked around to each board member, challenging them to offer an answer.
‘‘If our goal is to protect the reputation of the museum,’’ said Martin Thormond, ‘‘perhaps we should just give the items in question back.’’
Diane was shaking her head even before he finished. ‘‘Protecting the reputation of the museum is more than making sure we don’t display stolen antiquities. We must also protect our ability to acquire them. If it’s known that all it takes for us to back off an acquisition is an anonymous accusation, then we have seriously crippled our ability to compete in a very competitive world. And I also want to add that an important part of our reputation is how we treat the people we employ. The people here look to me to protect them—and I will.’’
Diane stood, walked to a bookshelf, and came back with two magazines she laid on top the newspaper. ‘‘Best Aging magazine lists Rosewood in the top ten places to retire to. In citing the reasons for the selection they named the RiverTrail Museum of Natural History.’’ She pointed to the other magazine. ‘‘Good Working named RiverTrail in its list of top one hundred best places to work in the Southeast—citing treatment of employees.’’
Her gaze took them all in before she spoke again. ‘‘This is a good museum and a good place to work. Because of the efforts of Dr. Williams and Dr. Seeger, our geology department has one of the best reference collections in the country. Students from several large universities in the region come here to study our specimens. That kind of scholarly caliber was one of Milo Lorenzo’s goals for the museum. I will not let all we have accomplished be sabotaged by rumors.’’ Diane wondered if her face looked as hot as it felt.
‘‘Where did the newspaper get the information in the first place?’’ asked Harvey Phelps. He had been fingering a copy of the newspaper tucked away on his lap. Diane noticed that he had looked sheepish the entire meeting. Another friend who felt guilty confronting her.
Most of the members had remained quiet, perhaps letting Barclay be the bad guy, a role he seemed to relish. Diane supposed they hadn’t said anything because all the words they had for her were of reproof and they hadn’t wanted to scold her. But they had wanted answers.