‘‘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. ‘‘
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.
‘‘I don’t know who the original source was,’’ said Diane. ‘‘But I will find out. Someone set out to do us harm. And I will find out who they are.’’
Harvey smiled at Diane. He tried making it the avuncular smile he usually had for her, but it came up a little short. ‘‘What are we doing about the problem?’’ he asked.
‘‘I’ve told the registrar’s office . . . ’’ Diane noticed a puzzled look from the newer members. ‘‘That’s where we review provenances,’’ she explained. ‘‘I told them to start reviewing the provenance for the Egyptian artifacts immediately. My best detective has agreed to cut short his vacation and find the source of this attack on us.’’
‘‘Our bank uses a good detective agency I can recommend,’’ offered Barclay.
Diane supposed he wanted to purchase back some of the ground he had lost by now being helpful. She really wanted to ask him what a bank needed with a detective agency.
‘‘David will do an excellent job,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Professionals in the field will do a better job than museum people,’’ he said. ‘‘I’m sure your people are good at researching artifacts, but this investigation needs to be out in the real world.’’
Diane didn’t believe that he meant to be insulting. He was just one of those people who was out of touch with anything that wasn’t in his world. She folded her arms and looked at him for a moment.
‘‘I think you’re forgetting that Diane’s also director of the crime lab over in the west wing,’’ said Kenneth Meyerson. ‘‘Her people are pretty professional in the real world.’’
‘‘Yes. Well, I suppose I must have forgotten. One doesn’t think of that in a museum,’’ he said.
‘‘How is Kendel?’’ interrupted Vanessa.
Vanessa liked Kendel—well enough to let the assistant director talk her out of a ten-thousand-dollar diamond to put in the gemstone reference collection.
‘‘Not well at the moment. As you can imagine, this has been devastating,’’ said Diane.
Madge looked up suddenly from somewhere deep in her thoughts. ‘‘You don’t think she will sue me, do you?’’ she asked.
‘‘I would,’’ said Diane.
Madge sucked in her breath and her eyes grew large and round. She looked frightened. Diane hoped she would think before she spoke from now on.
‘‘But what should I have said?’’ asked Madge. ‘‘The woman said Kendel was guilty.’’
‘‘You say you have no comment, and then refer them to me,’’ said Diane. ‘‘That would be good for all of you. The charter specifies the director as the official spokesperson for the museum. I’m the one with the most up-to- date information. And we do have policies in place to handle these matters.’’
