cleverness and creativity in restoring old works and his vast knowledge of book conservation and preservation techniques.
“Got a freelance job for you, Monty, if you have time.” Caleb held up the book. “
Monty examined the novel and said in a high-pitched voice, “How soon?”
“Oh, you have plenty of time. We’re in the early stages yet.”
Conservators at Monty’s level often worked on several major and smaller projects at a time. They worked late and also came in over some weekends when they wouldn’t be interrupted as much. Caleb also knew that Monty had a fully equipped workshop at his home in D.C. where he did outside jobs on occasion.
“Reversible?” Monty asked.
Standard protocols in the field now demanded that every repair on a book be “reversible.” In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries book conservationists were in a decided “gussy-up” phase. Unfortunately, that had led to many old books being totally rebuilt, with their original covers discarded and the pages rebound in bright, tooled leather and sometimes fancy custom latches. It looked nice but completely destroyed the historical integrity of the article with no way to reverse the damage.
“Yes,” Caleb answered. “And would you please write up what work you propose to do? We’ll provide that documentation with the book when it’s sold.”
Monty nodded and returned to his current project.
Caleb headed back to the reading room. In the tunnels he found himself chuckling. “Miltie,” he said under his breath. “And his new hairdo.” It would be the last good laugh he would have in a long time.
CHAPTER 33
“REGINA COLLINS,” ANNABELLE said in a brisk manner, handing the woman her card. “I called ahead for an appointment with Mr. Keller.” She and Milton were standing in the reception area of Keller & Mahoney, Architects, located in a towering brownstone near the White House. She was dressed in a sleek black pantsuit that beautifully offset her now red-highlighted hair. Milton stood behind her, alternating between self-consciously adjusting his orange tie and fingering the chic ponytail that Annabelle had styled his long hair in.
A minute later a tall man in his fifties with wavy gray hair strode out to meet them. He wore a monogrammed striped shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and green braces held up his trousers. “Ms. Collins?” he said. They shook hands, and she handed him one of her business cards.
“Mr. Keller, what a pleasure. Thank you for taking the time to see us on such short notice. My assistant was supposed to call you before we left France. Suffice it to say, I’m getting a new assistant.” She indicated Milton. “My associate, Leslie Haynes.”
Milton managed to say both hello and shake the man’s hand, though he didn’t look very comfortable doing either.
“Forgive the jet lag,” Annabelle said quickly, noting his awkwardness. “We usually take the afternoon flight here, but it was booked. We had to get up before dawn Paris time. A real killer.”
“Not to worry, I can relate. Please, come on back,” Keller said amiably.
In his office they all sat at a small conference table.
“I know you’re a busy man, so I’ll get right to the point. As I said in my call, I’m the managing director with a start-up architectural magazine for the trade in Europe.”
Keller glanced at the business card that Annabelle had just had run off that morning. “
“Thanks. The ad agency spent a lot of time and
Keller laughed. “Oh, yes. We went that route initially and then decided to just name the company after ourselves.”
“I wish we’d had that option.”
“But you’re not French?”
“An old story. I’m a transplanted American who fell in love with Paris while I was in college on an exchange program. I can speak the language just well enough to order dinner, a nice bottle of wine, and get into trouble on occasion.” She said a few words in French.
Keller laughed embarrassingly. “I’m afraid I don’t,” he said.
She opened a leather briefcase she’d brought with her and pulled out a notebook. “Well, for the inaugural issue we wanted to do a story on the renovation of the Jefferson Building that was undertaken by your firm in partnership with the Architect of the Capitol.”
Keller nodded. “That was a great honor for us.”
“And a long job. From 1984 until 1995, correct?”
“You’ve done your homework. That also included redoing the Adams Building across the street as well as cleaning and conservation of the murals in the Jefferson Building. I can tell you it dominated my life for ten years.”
“And you did a brilliant job. From what I understand it was a Herculean task simply to rework the main reading area. There were a lot of structural integrity issues, load-bearing column problems, particularly with the challenge of the dome, and I heard that the original truss work left a lot to be desired?” These were items Milton had pulled off the Internet for her just that morning. She’d distilled a hundred pages of information down so smoothly, and spun it out so glibly, that Milton looked at her in amazement.
“It did have its challenges, although you’re looking at a building that was constructed over a hundred years ago. Given that, they did a helluva job back then.”
