The Connoisseur by Evan S. Connell

Author:Evan S. Connell
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781619026926
Publisher: Catapult
Published: 2018-04-27T00:00:00+00:00

On a snowy Friday afternoon with the mask again stuffed into his pocket, Muhlbach marches through the doors of the Natural History museum and submits his request. The woman at the desk listens courteously, makes a telephone call and then informs him that Dr. Ekholm is occupied. However, Mr. Sanchez could look at the item.

Well, Mr. Sanchez may not be famous, but if he’s associated with the museum he must be competent. All right, where do I find Mr. Sanchez?

Fifth floor. Take the elevator. And put this on your lapel, she adds, giving him a button. That area is not open to the public.

A few minutes later Muhlbach is wandering around the fifth floor, annoyed with himself for not having listened more attentively. The problem now is to locate Sanchez, whose office is locked. Where would he be?

The door to another office is half open. He peeps in. Behind a rolltop desk an elderly gentleman with white hair is reading a magazine.

Sanchez? Right down the way.

Muhlbach explains that the office seems to be locked.

Ah! It is, is it? Well, he was going to Vermont this weekend so he must have left.

But the receptionist just spoke with him.

She did, did she? Then he should be here. Ask around. He can’t be far.

Muhlbach continues along the hall. Nobody is in sight. All at once he hears typing, but the noise stops before he can identify the room. At the opposite end of the hall a door closes and he immediately turns around, but whoever was there has disappeared. An instant later another door opens, a young girl wearing a Norwegian ski sweater steps out, clutches her head and hurries toward him with a distracted expression.

She’s mad, he thinks. Totally mad. However, she might know where Sanchez can be found. He begins to explain the situation while the girl stares up at him with her mouth agape, brushing repeatedly at a lock of hair that falls in front of one eye.

But I don’t work in the museum, she says at last. I’m just trying to find Miss Pellegrini. Could you tell me where she is? They told me she was in this department.

I don’t know. I’m sorry.

Please!

You don’t seem to understand. I don’t work here either. I’m trying to locate a Mr. Sanchez.

But I’ve got to find her. I’m not kidding, it’s important.

I can’t help you! Muhlbach replies more sharply than he intended.

Then at the sound of footsteps he glances up. A man in a laboratory smock is approaching. Almost certainly this would be Sanchez.

No. No, but if you run you might catch him at the elevator.

Muhlbach dashes along the hall and turns a corner in time to watch the elevator door bump shut.

It’s possible, of course, that Sanchez was not aboard that particular elevator. Or, even if he was, he might return. But it now seems plain to Muhlbach that he is destined never to catch up with Sanchez. After thinking about this he shrugs and starts back toward the office where the white-haired gentleman was reading.

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