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[182] She brought up the electronic mail menu and read the waiting message.
MAIL FROM GEORGE MORIARTY@EXHIB@STF SENT 10:14:07 03-30-95
THANKS FOR THE LABEL COPY—LOOKS PERFECT, NO CHANGES NECESSARY. WE’LL PUT IT IN WITH OTHER FINISHING TOUCHES BEFORE OPENING TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC.
CARE TO HAVE LUNCH TODAY?
—GEORGE
REPLY, DELETE, FILE (R/D/F)?
Her telephone rang, shattering the silence. “Hello?” she said.
[183] “Margo’? Hi. It’s George,” came Moriarty’s voice.
“Hi,” she replied. “Sorry, just got your message now.’
“I figured as much,” he responded cheerfully. “Thanks again for helping out.”
“Glad to,” replied Margo.
Moriarty paused. “So...” he began hesitantly. “How about that lunch?”
“Sorry,” Margo said. “I’d like to, but I’m waiting for a call back from Dr. Frock. Could be five minutes, could be next week.”
She could tell by the silence that Moriarty was disappointed.
“Tell you what, though,” she said. “You could swing by for me on your way to the cafeteria. If Frock’s called by then, maybe I’ll be free. If he hasn’t ... well, perhaps you could hang out for a couple of minutes while I wait, help me with the Times crossword or something.”
“Sure!” Moriarty replied. “I know every three-letter Australian mammal there is.”
Margo hesitated. “And perhaps while you’re down here, we can take a peek into the accession database, see about the Whittlesey crates ... ?”
There was a silence. Finally, Moriarty sighed. “Well, if it’s that important to you, I guess it couldn’t hurt anything. I’ll stop by around twelve.”
Half an hour later, a knock sounded. “Come in,” she called out.
“The damn thing’s locked.” The voice was not Moriarty’s.
She opened the door. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Do you suppose it’s luck or fate?” Smithback said, coming in quickly and shutting the door behind him. “Listen, Lotus Blossom, I’ve been a busy man since last night.”
[184] “So have I,” she said. “Moriarty will be here any minute to get us into the accession database.”
“How did you—”
“Never mind,” Margo replied smugly.
The door opened, and Moriarty peered in. “Margo?” he asked. Then he caught sight of Smithback.
“Don’t fret, professor, it’s safe,” the writer said. “I’m not in a biting mood today.”
“Don’t mind him,” Margo said. “He has this annoying habit of popping up unannounced. Come on in.”
“Yes, and make yourself comfortable,” Smithback said, pointedly gesturing to the chair in front of Margo’s terminal.
Moriarty sat down slowly, looking at Smithback, then at Margo, then at Smithback again. “I guess you want me to check the accession records,” he said.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” Margo said quietly. Smithback’s presence made the whole thing seem like a setup.
“Okay, Margo.” Moriarty put his fingers on the keyboard. “Smithback, turn around. The password, you know.”
The Museum’s accession database contained information on all the millions of catalogued items in the Museum’s collections. Initially, the database had been accessible to all employees. However, someone on the fifth floor had gotten nervous at having the artifacts’ detailed descriptions and storage locations available to anyone. Now, access was limited to senior staff—Assistant Curators, such as Moriarty, and above.
Moriarty was sullenly tapping keys. “I could be given a reprimand for this, you know,” he said. “Dr. Cuthbert’s very strict. Why didn’t you just get Frock to do it for you?”
“Like I said, I can’t get in to see him,” Margo replied.
Moriarty gave the ENTER key a final jab. “Here it is,” [185] he said. “Take a quick look., I’m not going to bring it up again.”
Margo and Smithback crowded around the terminal as the green letters crawled slowly up the screen:
ACCESSION FILE NUMBER 1989-2006
DATE: APRIL 4, 1989
COLLECTOR: JOHN WHITTLESEY, EDWARD MAXWELL, ET AL
CATALOGUER: HUGO C. MONTAGUE
SOURCE: WHITTLESEY/MAXWELL AMAZON BASIN EXPEDITION
LOCATION: BUILDING 2, LEVEL 3, SECTION 6, VAULT 144
NOTE: THE FOLLOWING CATALOGUED ITEMS WERE RECEIVED ON FEBRUARY 1, 1989 IN SEVEN CRATES SENT BACK BY THE WHITTLESEY/MAXWELL EXPEDITION FROM THE UPPER XINGU RIVER SYSTEM. SIX OF THE CRATES WERE PACKAGED BY MAXWELL, ONE BY WHITTLESEY. WHITTLESEY AND THOMAS R. CROCKER JR. DID NOT RETURN FROM THE EXPEDITION AND ARE PRESUMED DEAD. MAXWELL AND THE REST OF THE PARTY PERISHED IN A PLANE CRASH EN ROUTE TO THE UNITED STATES. ONLY WHITTLESEY’S CRATE HAS BEEN PARTIALLY CATALOGUED HERE; THIS NOTE WILL BE SUPERCEDED AS THIS CRATE AND THE MAXWELL CRATES ARE FULLY CATALOGUED. DESCRIPTIONS ARE TAKEN FROM JOURNAL WHEREVER POSSIBLE.
HCM 4/89
[186] “Did you see that?” Smithback said. “I wonder why the cataloguing was never finished.”
“Shh!” Margo hissed. “I’m trying to get all this.”
NO. 1989-2006.1
BLOW GUN AND DART, NO DATA
STATUS: C.
NO. 1989-2006.2
PERSONAL JOURNAL OF J. WHITTLESEY, JULY 22 [1987] TO SEPTEMBER 17 [1987]
STATUS: T.R.
NO. 1989-2006.3
2 GRASS BUNDLES, TIED WITH PARROT FEATHERS, USED AS SHAMAN’S FETISH, FROM DESERTED HUT
STATUS: C.
NO. 1989-2006.4
FINELY CARVED FIGURINE OF BEAST. SUPPOSED REPRESENTATION OF “MBWUN” CF. WHITTLESEY JOURNAL, P. 56-59
STATUS: O.E.
NO. 1989-2006.5
WOODEN PLANT PRESS, ORIGIN UNKNOWN, FROM VICINITY OF DESERTED HUT.
STATUS: C.
NO. 1989-2006.6
DISK INCISED WITH DESIGNS.
STATUS: C.
NO. 1989-2006.7
SPEAR POINTS, ASSORTED SIZES AND CONDITION.
STATUS: C.
NOTE: ALL CRATES TEMPORARILY MOVED TO SECURE VAULT, LEVEL 2B, PER IAN CUTHBERT 3/20/95.
D. ALVAREZ, SEC’Y
[187] “What do all those codes mean?” Smithback asked.
“They tell the current status of the artifact,” Moriarty said. “C means it’s still crated up, hasn’t been curated yet. O.E. means ‘on exhibit.’ T.R. means ‘temporarily removed.’ There are others—”
“Temporarily removed?” Margo asked. “That’s all you need to put down? No wonder the journal got lost.”
“Of course that’s not all,” Moriarty said. “Whoever removes an object has to sign it out. The database is hierarchical. We can see more detail on any entry just by stepping down a level. Here, I’ll show you.” He tapped a few keys.