Dead Hunt

into the Pleistocene room.

A docent was telling a group of Japanese tourists about woolly mammoths. One man was arguing about whether or not the giant beasts were really here in Georgia.

‘‘I hope he didn’t mean I’m prone to take justice into my own hands,’’ said Diane.

‘‘You mean like killing Clymene? No. He said you believe in a justice system. That’s why, when you were a human rights investigator, you collected evidence all those years even when there was no court in which to present it,’’ he said.

So Jacobs knew more about her background than he had admitted, she noticed.

‘‘I’m glad he thinks so highly of me,’’ said Diane.

‘‘He does. All these Richard the Third T-shirts have fair trial written all over this museum’s identity,’’ he said.

‘‘You’re familiar with Richard the Third issues?’’ said Diane.

‘‘I took a lot of history and art history in college. That’s how I ended up in this section of the FBI. These guys were really big,’’ he said as they passed a giant bison.

‘‘You should visit the dinosaur room while you’re here,’’ said Diane.

‘‘I will. I’ll visit the whole building before I leave.’’

‘‘Do you know where the artifacts belong?’’ Diane asked after a moment.

She went through the large entrance to the mammal room, where more tourists were viewing the dioramas of taxidermied and skeletonized animals in artists’ recreations of their natural habitats. This is where I was attacked, she thought. Here among all the animals. It looked so harmless in the daylight.

‘‘No. It’s hard to prove something is stolen when you didn’t know it existed in the first place. That’s the problem trying to deal with looted artifacts. The thing that made the Getty Museum case so great was one of the principals had photographs in his apartment of the artifacts actually being looted. You don’t get that kind of hard evidence often. I need a witness. And with Cunningham Jr. dead, there isn’t one at the moment. Cunningham Sr. apparently knows nothing about what his son was into, and a couple of his employees have vanished. I’ve got BOLOs out for them. So far, nothing. That says a lot. The other employees either know nothing or are not talking. I’m hoping the Clymene thing is a lead.’’

‘‘I hope so too,’’ said Diane.

They reached the elevators in the center of the museum. Several people were waiting. When the doors opened, more people poured out. Diane was always glad to see the museum so busy. Walking into an exhibit room during open hours and finding no one was disheartening.

All the visitors got out on the second floor. The third floor was dedicated to exhibit preparation, library and archives, and offices. Except the west wing. That was the crime lab.

‘‘You know, you didn’t have to cooperate with me,’’ said Jacobs. ‘‘You could have stonewalled me.’’

‘‘We don’t want objects that are not ours. We would like to have the ones that are ours. I couldn’t see how not cooperating would help in any way.’’

They were walking past the staff lounge when a hand reached out and tapped Diane’s shoulder. She jumped back, ready to fight—or run.

‘‘I’m sorry, Dr. Fallon. I didn’t mean to startle you.’’ Diane caught her breath. ‘‘That’s alright, Dr. Albright. What can I do for you?’’

Dr. Albert T. Albright was the curator of dinosaurs and had helped acquire a couple of very nice velociraptors.

‘‘I had this idea for an exhibit,’’ he said.

Diane could see the excitement dancing in his eyes. She hated to brush him off.

‘‘Dr. Albright,I...’’ she began.

‘‘We make this life-size model of a dinosaur, probably a T. rex—that would be the most exciting for the youngsters. Anyway, we use’’—he motioned quickly with his hands—‘‘whatever that stuff is they use in Hollywood to make dinosaur skin look real. The exhibit would allow the kids to go through the dinosaur, starting through it’s mouth and walk through the throat and down to the stomach—you know, to show digestion— and finally the kids are pooped out the back end. I think they would love it,’’ he said.

‘‘I... don’t know exactly what to say,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I think you need to run your idea by Janine, the exhibit planner. Do you have it on paper?’’

‘‘No, I thought of it just now as I was eating some popcorn,’’ he said.

‘‘See what the two of you come up with and I’ll take a look at it,’’ said Diane.

He nodded happily and went on his way toward Exhibit Preparations.

Shane Jacobs stood trying to laugh silently.

‘‘You going to do it?’’ he asked.

‘‘The exhibit?’’ said Diane. ‘‘I’m going to let Janine take care of it. Right now I’m not thinking about new and unusual exhibits.’’

They walked across the dinosaur overlook and Jacobs stopped to look at the real giants of the museum—the Jurassic dinosaurs. The Brachiosaurus that stood on the first floor came all the way up to the third floor. They were staring at his head. The T. rex was only half as tall. That surprised most kids because T. rex, with his carnivorous behavior, was king.

‘‘Now, this is fun,’’ said Jacobs.