pigmentation pattern is laid down. Whatever happens to the mollusk-feast, famine, injury, temperature changes-has an effect and is recorded in the pattern. The mollusk wears its history on its back. A computer monitor in the shell room graphically illustrated the process, but Diane skipped that tonight. She’d seen it many times when it was being created.
She lingered a moment by the Humans and Shells exhibit to wonder at the cowrie shell necklaces from Africa, the mother-of-pearl jewelry, the carved conch shells loaned from the Archaeology Department depicting religious and ceremonial engravings of the southeastern Indians of the United States. There were display examples of kitschy souvenir shells from Florida. One of the prize specimens in this particular exhibit, acquired by Diane’s assistant director, Kendel Williams, was a gilded saltshaker in the form of a rooster made from the shell of a chambered nautilus.
Just beyond the Humans and Shells exhibit was the Math of Seashells. Not a favorite with most visitors, but Diane liked it, as did all the math teachers in the area. They often brought classes on field trips to watch the video explanation of the mathematics of the spiraled chambered nautilus based on the Fibonacci sequence of numbers. The video went on to show that pinecones, sunflowers, spiral galaxies, movement of bees, and even the Parthenon contain the same mathematics. Teachers loved that. For those really into the math of seashells, there was a video of the algorithmic process involved in the laying down of the pattern. Not very popular, but Diane left it on the computer, anyway. The instructors of higher mathematics loved her for that.
The fossil shells were a favorite of visitors mainly because they loved looking at the spiral shells whose component minerals had been replaced by pyrite so that they looked like pure gold. But these weren’t Diane’s favorites.
What she liked best were simply the shells themselves, the spiky, shiny, swirling, spiraling, multicolored unaltered seashells. There was something very calming about just looking at them-much like the joy of looking at the Vermeers.
She was looking in wonder at the details of a particularly lovely pelican shell when she heard raised voices coming from the aquatic lab.
Chapter 15
The door to the aquatic lab was ajar and Diane moved toward the opening. Only one of the voices was doing the shouting. Diane recognized it as belonging to the new aquatic collections manager, Whitney Lester.
“I know you stole the shells. It will be easier on both of us if you just admit it now.”
Diane didn’t hear the answer, only a soft murmur.
“I’m tired of wasting my time with you. You are going to lose your job. That’s certain. Whether or not it goes to the police is up to you. Where are the damn shells? I’m not going to have valuable articles go missing on my watch, do you hear?”
Diane walked into the lab and found Lester glowering over Juliet Price. Lester had backed her up against a table. Juliet looked terrified.
“I’m sick of your mousy ways. Tell me, damn it!” yelled Lester.
“What’s going on?” said Diane, in a voice she hoped was calm.
Whitney looked in Diane’s direction with the same angry look she was giving Juliet, ready to light into whoever was interrupting her. Her expression turned to surprise, then an attempt at a smile.
“Dr. Fallon, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Miss Price stole several valuable shells from the collection. I’m trying to persuade her to give them back.”
Diane looked at Juliet Price. Her arms were folded over her stomach and she was bent over. Her blond hair swung forward and hid her face.
“Dr. Price, are you all right?” asked Diane.
“She’s fine. She’s a malingerer.”
Diane ignored Whitney. “Juliet, are you all right?” Diane walked toward her and guided her to a chair.
“I didn’t steal the shells,” she whispered. “I need this job.”
Diane heard a snort from Whitney. “You should have thought of that… ”
“Enough,” said Diane. “Juliet, you aren’t going to lose your job. Sit right here and try to stay calm. I’ll be right back.”
“Mrs. Lester, in the office, now,” said Diane.
Whitney Lester looked as if she’d been hit between the eyes. “You’re not going to leave her out here?”
“Now, Mrs. Lester.” Diane preceded her into the collection manager’s office and sat down behind her desk.
Whitney Lester followed and stood for several seconds as if waiting for Diane to get up from her desk. After a moment she sat in a chair in front of the desk, smoothing her brown suede skirt under her. She sat up straight and arranged her face to show her serious disapproval-or at least that’s what it seemed to Diane as she watched the movements of Lester’s expression go from surprise, to puzzlement, to a stern demeanor. She reached up once to smooth her salt-and-pepper hair.
“What’s this about?” asked Diane.
“Juliet stole some valuable shells. I’m trying to get them back.” She puffed up her chest, looking very righteous.
“What’s missing?” asked Diane.
Whitney straightened up again, looking more confident. “A
“Have you informed Security?”
“No, I like to handle things in my own department,” she said.
“Did you see Dr. Price take them?” asked Diane.
“No, but she is the only one who could have. They were here last week in the vault. I saw them. Now they’re gone. She’s here practically all the time and the only one who has access to the vault.”
“So you were browbeating her. Couldn’t you see she is terrified?”
“Yes, I could see that. I was trying to get a confession. You, of all people, should appreciate that.”
“This isn’t a police interrogation room, nor is Dr. Price some perp you pulled in off the street. She’s an employee of this museum, and no employee here will be bullied. I hope that’s clear.”
“My management style…,” began Whitney.
“Is not acceptable,” interrupted Diane.
Whitney looked back through the open door as if to see if Juliet Price was listening. Diane could see Juliet sitting there where they left her, still holding her folded arms to her midsection. Diane was sure she was listening to every word. But it apparently was not giving her comfort. Juliet was one of the few employees that she had not had either lunch or dinner with-mainly because Juliet kept putting it off for one reason or another.
Diane remembered interviewing her for the job. She was dressed in a conservative dark tweed suit and had her light blond hair pulled back into a French twist. It was one of the few times that she had seen her face. Her pale hair and skin and sky blue eyes gave her an ethereal appearance-almost like an angel. Had she chosen to flaunt it, she could have men hanging around her all the time. As it was, she was almost invisible. Juliet spent a lot of time hiding.
Diane and Kendel almost hadn’t hired her, her shyness was so extreme. But in the end, her expert knowledge of marine life, and of mollusks in particular, proved to be the deciding factor. In reality, she was overqualified for her position. With her Ph.D. in marine biology she could be on a curator’s track. But she wanted to work cataloging shells and putting together learning kits for the schools-which was mainly solitary work. Hiring her had been a good
