The Counterfeit Murder in the Museum of Man_ A Norman De Ratour Mystery - Alfred Alcorn [110]
He paused, taking them all in, one by one. Then he said, “I am not a disinterested party in this proceeding. But I believe it is clear from what I have shown you that firing Norman de Ratour at this juncture would be tantamount to destroying the museum and what it stands for.”
It was Remick, a gentleman of the old school, who cleared his throat and said, “There is a motion before the committee that I for one, given these facts, move be withdrawn.”
Elgin Warwick, another gentleman of the old school, did not demur. “I have changed my mind,” he said with dignity. “As much as I have reason to disagree with Norman on some things, his continued service to the museum is essential. The motion should be withdrawn.”
Someone began, “I move …”
Carmilla Golden pointed out that the motion under consideration had to be voted on before another motion could be considered.
I put up my hand at this point and said, “I actually would like to say a few words before any motion is voted on.”
The room grew very quiet. I sipped some coffee and actually tasted it. I said, “For those interested in accuracy, Heinie, Heinrich von Grümh, was not murdered on museum property but on a right-of-way between the parking lots of the museum and the Center for Criminal Justice.”
“Close enough,” Ms. Rossini murmured.
“Also,” I continued, “whether or not Martin Sterl’s murder was or was not plotted in the Diorama of Paleolithic Life is immaterial. Is Ms. Rossini suggesting that we put up notices to the effect that the fomenting of conspiracies is prohibited on museum property?
“As for the pornography ring in the museum, Ms. Rossini is misconstruing the minutes of an Oversight Committee meeting in which facetiousness abounded.
“And, finally, the generous gift she refers to involved the display of the mummified remains of the donor in a special temple that would have seriously undermined the overall purpose of the museum.”
“What about the coins?” Ms. Golden asked.
“I admit I should have had them tested. But in the scale of things, I believe that dereliction is scarcely grounds for a vote of no-confidence.”
I carried the day. Only Golden, Rossini, and old Farquar, who didn’t seem all that sentient, voted yes on the motion to ask for my resignation. The others voted no. Moments after that, I was alone in my office with Felix.
“You are a miracle worker,” I began. “You pulled it right out of your hat.”
“I’ve been flat-out on this for three days. I should have called, but I didn’t get the affidavit from Duff until this morning.”
“Why did he change his mind?”
“He didn’t have a case after I showed him the new evidence I had gathered.”
“New evidence?”
“Well, I got a sworn and notarized statement from Diantha stating that she loaned von Grümh the revolver. They could get her on some kind of firearms violation, but that would be peanuts.”
“I should have thought about doing it earlier.”
“It might not have signified if Diantha hadn’t come up with copies of e-mails from von Grümh telling her he needed a weapon to defend stuff he had on the boat.”
“How did that happen?”
“Diantha called me a couple of days ago. She told me she was dropping everything and conferring with a data-recovery honcho and working on it.”
“She initiated it?”
“She sure did.”
“And the e-mails from Jackson.”
“That req form was the smoke. I hired a PI. It wasn’t difficult. Laluna Jackson’s office is a collection of self-righteous fools. And the righteous are seldom discreet.”
“Felix, I love you.”
He stood up to go. “Wait till you see my bill.”
“It will be worth every penny.”
I was alone, finally, in my office. I was still Director of the Museum of Man. And while a great relief, it was as a trifle next to what Felix