don’t you think?’
She didn’t answer directly, but set off briskly in the direction of a door on the far side of the hall. ‘The Herr Direktor said you are interested in information about our Melanesian collection?’
‘If the island of Bougainville is in Melanesia, that is correct.’
She looked at him over her shoulder. ‘I don’t believe it’s moved recently.’
Jamie reflected that a conversation with Dr Magda Ross was like being a knife-thrower’s assistant: you felt relatively safe until the next missile was launched.
They walked in silence through a series of long, wooden-floored corridors and wide rooms filled with glass cases. Eventually, a lift carried them to a larger chamber on the first floor, which was dominated by a series of full-size huts or houses with walls and roofs made of woven grass or leaves. At the far end a big outrigger canoe was displayed on a stand and glass cases around the walls held fearsome masks, tools and weapons.
Jamie studied the exhibits but could see no sign of his target. ‘The artefacts I’m interested in would have come to the museum from the Neues around a hundred and thirty years ago. Is it possible some of them would still be here, either on display or in storage?’
Magda Ross reached out to stroke an intricately carved hollowed log that appeared to be some kind of drum. ‘You have to understand that we lost a high percentage of our early collections during the war. It would depend on what the artefacts were and their constituent materials.’
Jamie reeled off the list Direktor Muller had given him: ‘Four skulls of varying antiquity and one shrunken head of a warrior chieftain.’
She frowned and walked to one of the cases. ‘This has been in our collection for over a hundred years.’ She pointed to what looked like an axe, with a stone blade and a polished wood handle. ‘It is originally from the Mount Takuan region of Bougainville Island.’ Some memory made her smile for the first time and the thought occurred to Jamie that she’d been nervous about meeting him. ‘I visited Bougainville about ten years ago when I was studying for my doctorate. It’s one of the most fascinating places in the world for an anthropologist, I …’ She stopped and shook her head. ‘Forgive me, I’m getting carried away. I’m not here to give you a lecture …’
‘Not at all.’ Jamie smiled back. ‘I’m interested in anything about the area. As you’ve probably noticed, my knowledge is a bit thin.’
‘When it comes to Melanesia, I’m what they call a geek,’ she confessed with a grin. ‘Anyway, to get back to the subject, the spears may still be on show, but I doubt the pots would have survived. These days, for reasons of sensitivity, we would never display objects like the skulls or the head. If you’ll come with me, I’ll see if we have any record of them.’
They walked side by side to a small open-plan office with views over the museum entrance. Magda waved Jamie to a chair and sat at a computer on what was obviously her personal desk. ‘If you’ll bear with me for a few moments …’
Jamie watched as her long fingers fluttered expertly over the keyboard. ‘I’m surprised your records survived if the bombing did so much damage to the museum,’ he said.
‘Fortunately they were stored somewhere they had a chance of surviving.’ She looked up and their eyes met almost by accident. Jamie had to fight off the sensation of being sucked into the centre of a whirlpool. A little voice in his head shouted a warning and he concentrated so hard on Fiona’s face he almost missed Magda Ross’s next words. She frowned at the incomprehension on his face. ‘I said that in those days we would have had to go to the other side of the city to access them. Now I just type a few letters and wait.’ A printer at the rear of the office began to chatter and she rose to collect the sheets as they emerged from the machine. She split them into two bundles and
She didn’t answer directly, but set off briskly in the direction of a door on the far side of the hall. ‘The Herr Direktor said you are interested in information about our Melanesian collection?’
‘If the island of Bougainville is in Melanesia, that is correct.’
She looked at him over her shoulder. ‘I don’t believe it’s moved recently.’
Jamie reflected that a conversation with Dr Magda Ross was like being a knife-thrower’s assistant: you felt relatively safe until the next missile was launched.
They walked in silence through a series of long, wooden-floored corridors and wide rooms filled with glass cases. Eventually, a lift carried them to a larger chamber on the first floor, which was dominated by a series of full-size huts or houses with walls and roofs made of woven grass or leaves. At the far end a big outrigger canoe was displayed on a stand and glass cases around the walls held fearsome masks, tools and weapons.
Jamie studied the exhibits but could see no sign of his target. ‘The artefacts I’m interested in would have come to the museum from the Neues around a hundred and thirty years ago. Is it possible some of them would still be here, either on display or in storage?’
Magda Ross reached out to stroke an intricately carved hollowed log that appeared to be some kind of drum. ‘You have to understand that we lost a high percentage of our early collections during the war. It would depend on what the artefacts were and their constituent materials.’
Jamie reeled off the list Direktor Muller had given him: ‘Four skulls of varying antiquity and one shrunken head of a warrior chieftain.’
She frowned and walked to one of the cases. ‘This has been in our collection for over a hundred years.’ She pointed to what looked like an axe, with a stone blade and a polished wood handle. ‘It is originally from the Mount Takuan region of Bougainville Island.’ Some memory made her smile for the first time and the thought occurred to Jamie that she’d been nervous about meeting him. ‘I visited Bougainville about ten years ago when I was studying for my doctorate. It’s one of the most fascinating places in the world for an anthropologist, I …’ She stopped and shook her head. ‘Forgive me, I’m getting carried away. I’m not here to give you a lecture …’
‘Not at all.’ Jamie smiled back. ‘I’m interested in anything about the area. As you’ve probably noticed, my knowledge is a bit thin.’
‘When it comes to Melanesia, I’m what they call a geek,’ she confessed with a grin. ‘Anyway, to get back to the subject, the spears may still be on show, but I doubt the pots would have survived. These days, for reasons of sensitivity, we would never display objects like the skulls or the head. If you’ll come with me, I’ll see if we have any record of them.’
They walked side by side to a small open-plan office with views over the museum entrance. Magda waved Jamie to a chair and sat at a computer on what was obviously her personal desk. ‘If you’ll bear with me for a few moments …’
Jamie watched as her long fingers fluttered expertly over the keyboard. ‘I’m surprised your records survived if the bombing did so much damage to the museum,’ he said.
‘Fortunately they were stored somewhere they had a chance of surviving.’ She looked up and their eyes met almost by accident. Jamie had to fight off the sensation of being sucked into the centre of a whirlpool. A little voice in his head shouted a warning and he concentrated so hard on Fiona’s face he almost missed Magda Ross’s next words. She frowned at the incomprehension on his face. ‘I said that in those days we would have had to go to the other side of the city to access them. Now I just type a few letters and wait.’ A printer at the rear of the office began to chatter and she rose to collect the sheets as they emerged from the machine. She split them into two bundles and
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