The Bernini Bust by Iain Pears Page A

In the interests of security. He had even restarted his consultancy business on a sounder footing, and travelled the country giving lectures on ‘Museum security in the modern age’ for hefty fees. It also meant he had less time to spend in Los Angeles, so he was currently bidding for a deputy to take care of day-to-day operations.
    Some people didn’t approve of what they considered Streeter’s imperial tendencies, and Thanet, sensing the growth of an alternative source of power to his own, was one of them. There was no need at all, he suggested, for either Streeter or the vast bureaucracy he had conjured into being. Streeter, not surprisingly, had disagreed quite strongly with this view, and the two men had been at loggerheads ever since. Clearly, a showdown was now in the offing. Recent events would either demonstrate the utter uselessness of all the security systems (victory for Thanet), or indicate the need to work even harder to turn the museum into a cross between Stalag Luft VI and an electronics factory (victory for Streeter). Or, of course, the museum could collapse entirely, and both would find themselves on the breadline.
    Going instantly on the offensive, the security man took a perverse pleasure in pointing out that, in fact, he didn’t really have quite the equipment he had wanted.
    “I did indicate at the time the dangers of cutting corners on security. For optimum coverage…’
    “Please. That’s not what we’re here for,” Morelli said, rubbing an inflamed gum and too tired to get involved in domestic squabbles. “Why don’t you just show us what you’ve got, not what you wanted.”
    Not before the guided tour. As Streeter set it all out, each room in the museum was covered by a camera system whose lenses swept across a minimum of eighty-two per cent of the area every minute. Equally, they could be automatically directed to particular spots when pressure pads were activated or light-beams cut. The entrycard system automatically logged the entry and exit of everybody employed by the museum, correlated their personal codes to the telephone system so the administration knew where and when they were dialling. More sensors picked up the cards as people moved from room to room, permitting a read-out of their movements. Finally, microphones in every gallery could pick up conversations, in case any visitors were planning a break-in. And, naturally, all the rooms were fitted with smoke detectors, metal detectors and explosives sniffers.
    “Christ,” said a surprised Morelli as this explanation finally came to an end. “You’re all ready for Doomsday here. You seem more intent on watching the staff than anything else.”
    “You may sneer,” said Streeter, affronted. “But because many of my recommendations were ignored, our employer has been murdered. And now my system is going to tell you who did it.”
    Even Thanet thought that Streeter’s voice lacked its normal conviction as he said this, but Morelli paid no attention, being too busy watching the man manipulate an extraordinary system of controls on the central console. “Naturally, the administrative block is less comprehensively covered, but we have adequate visual coverage. I’ve directed the image outputting to this VDU unit,” he said, pointing a finger.
    “He means the picture will be on that television screen,” Thanet explained helpfully. Streeter glared at him, then turned disdainfully to watch the screen. It remained resolutely blank.
    “Ah,” he said.
    Director and detective looked at him inquisitively as he rushed over to his console again and began scanning buttons and levers.
    “Damn,” he added.
    “Don’t tell me, let me guess. You forgot to put a film in?”
    “Certainly not,” Streeter said, manipulating wildly. “It doesn’t use film. A visual recording node seems to have malfunctioned.”
    “Camera’s bust,” Thanet said in a loud stage-whisper.
    Streeter rolled back a video, explaining as he did so that