The Inner Circle - Brad Meltzer [249]
Nora nodded. “J. C. Shottum’s Cabinet of Natural Productions and Curiosities.”
“Precisely. There was only a small circle of scientific men in those days, and they all belonged to the Lyceum. Men of varying abilities, I might add. Shottum belonged to the Lyceum, but he was as much a showman as he was a scientist. He had opened a cabinet down on Catherine Street, where he charged a minimal admission. It was mostly patronized by the lower classes. Unlike most of his colleagues, Shottum had these notions of bettering the plight of the poor through education. That’s why he situated his cabinet in such a disagreeable neighborhood. He was especially interested in using natural history to inform and educate the young. In any case, he needed help with identifying and classifying his collections, which he had acquired from the family of a young man who had been killed by natives in Madagascar.”
“Alexander Marysas.”
There was a rustle from the old lady. Once again, she extinguished the light, shrouding the room in darkness, throwing the portrait of her father into shadow. “You seem to know a great deal about this, Miss Kelly,” Clara McFadden said suspiciously. “I hope I am not annoying you with my story.”
“Not at all. Please go on.”
“Shottum’s was a rather wretched cabinet. My father helped him from time to time, but it was burdensome to him. It was not a good collection. Very haphazard, not systematic. To lure in the poor, especially the urchins, his exhibits tended toward the sensational. There was even something he called a ’gallery of unnatural monstrosities.’ It was, I believe, inspired by Madame Tussaud’s Chamber of Horrors. There were rumors that some people who went into that gallery never came out again. All rubbish, of course, most likely cooked up by Shottum to increase foot traffic.”
Clara McFadden removed a lace handkerchief and coughed into it. “It was around that time a man named Leng joined the Lyceum. Enoch Leng.” Her voice conveyed a depth of hatred.
Nora felt her heart quicken. “Did you know Leng?”
“My father talked about him a great deal. Especially toward the end. My father, you see, had a bad eye and bad teeth. Leng helped him get some silver bridgework and a special pair of eyeglasses with an unusually thick lens. He seemed to be something of a polymath.”
She tucked the handkerchief back into some fold of her clothing, took another spoonful of the elixir. “It was said he came from France, a small mountain town near the Belgian border. There was talk that he was a baron, born into a noble family. These scientists are all gossips, you know. New York City at the time was a very provincial place and Leng made quite an impression. No one doubted he was a very learned man. He called himself a doctor, by the way, and it was said he had been a surgeon and a chemist.” She made a vinegary sound.
Motes drifted in the heavy air. The cat’s purr rumbled on endlessly, like a turbine.
The strident voice cut the air again. “Shottum was looking for a curator for his cabinet. Leng took an interest in it, although it was certainly the poorest curatorial appointment among the cabinets of curiosities. Nevertheless, Leng took rooms on the top floor of the cabinet.”
So far, all this matched the details provided in Shottum’s letter. “And when was this?” Nora asked.
“In the spring of 1870.”
“Did Leng live at the cabinet?”
“A man of Leng’s breeding, living in the Five Points? Certainly not. But he kept to himself. He was a strange, elusive man, very formal in his diction and mannerisms. No one, not even my father, knew where he lived. Leng did not encourage intimacy.
“He spent most of his time at Shottum’s or the Lyceum. As I recall, his work at Shottum’s Cabinet was originally supposed to last only a year or two. At first, Shottum was very pleased with Leng’s work. Leng catalogued the collection, wrote up label copy for everything. But then something happened—my father never knew what—and Shottum seemed to grow suspicious of Leng. Shottum wanted to ask him to leave, but was reluctant. Leng paid handsomely for the use