Page 36 - Just Deserts

Excessories

the regalia, but they do retain a certain pride in their traditions as well
as a desire to keep out of the limelight.”
“I can deal with that,” replied Selma Childe. “When I get a
certain feeling about something, then I know it’s right for me. I don’t
care about the paperwork. That’s really your business, isn’t it?” Her
gaze was fixed to the necklace. “Of course, I saw immediately that
the patina on the ivory is very deep! That must have come from
many years of use; and I can feel the power of royalty in it. This is
exactly what I was looking for, Mr. Pontebroglio. Please have it
wrapped up very carefully for me.”

* * * * *

Edwin Swerdlow signed in at the museum’s security desk and
received a visitor’s badge and a property pass for the object he had
brought with him. After a few minutes delay a guard escorted him
down to the basement and the door of the Ethnographic Arts
department. He knocked, heard no response, and opened the heavy
door part way. The place reminded him of university days and
professor’s office hours.
“Dr. Tuccifili? Hello?”
Creaking furniture and stirring paper indicated the presence of life
within. Swerdlow entered and closed the door. He found himself in a
cramped converted office space, bookshelves and cabinets tucked
within and between pipes and ducts suspended from the low ceiling.
A single fluorescent fixture illumined the room, casting a greenish
glare on stacks of books, journals, correspondence, sheets of color
transparencies and articles of personal hygiene and nutrition. Amid it
all a short rotund figure was rising, a curmudgeonly cetacean breaking
the surface of a sea of documentation for a necessary but unenjoyable
breath of fresh air.
“Dr. Tuccifili, I am Edwin Swerdlow of the Examiner. Thank you
for giving me a few moments of your time.”
The curator wiped his right hand on his vest and adjusted his
spectacles. “Yes, young man? You wish an interview, correct? I’m
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