The Cabinet of Curiosities by Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child Page B

himself.
    She began to make a list of correspondents and the nature of their work. Of course, it was always possible this was a waste of time, that the killer might have been the building’s janitor or coal man—but then she remembered the crisp, professional scalpel marks on the bones, the almost surgical dismemberments. No, it was a man of science—that was certain.
    Taking out her notebook, she began jotting notes.
Letters to/from Tinbury McFadden:
C ORRESPONDENT
S UBJECTS OF CORRESPONDENCE
P OSITION
D ATES OF CORRESPONDENCE
J. C. Shottum
Natural history, anthropology, the Lyceum
Owner, Shottum’s Cabinet of Natural Productions and Curiosities New York
1869–1881
Prof. Albert Blackwood
The Lyceum, the Museum
Founder, New York Museum of Natural History
1865–1878
Dr. Asa Stone Gilcrease
Birds
Ornithologist New York
1875–1887
Col. Sir Henry C. Throckmorton, Bart., F.R.S.
African mammals (big game)
Collector, explorer sportsman London
1879–1891
Prof. Enoch Leng
Classification
Taxonomist, chemist New York
1872–1881
Miss Guenevere LaRue
Christian missions for Borrioboola-Gha, in the African Congo
Philanthropist New York
1870–1872
Dumont Burleigh
Dinosaur fossils, the Lyceum
Oilman, collector Cold Spring, New York
1875–1881
Dr. Ferdinand Huntt
Anthropology, archaeology
Surgeon, collector Oyster Bay, Long Island
1869–1879
Prof. Hiram Howlett
Reptiles and amphibians
Herpetologist Stormhaven, Maine
1871–1873
    The penultimate name gave her pause. A surgeon. Who was Dr. Ferdinand Huntt? There were quite a few letters from him, written in a large scrawl on heavy paper with a beautifully engraved crest. She flipped through them.
    My Dear Tinbury,
    With regard to the Odinga Natives, the barbaric custom of Male Partum is still quite prevalent. When I was in the Volta I had the dubious privilege of witnessing childbirth. I was not allowed to assist, of course, but I could hear the shrieks of the husband quite clearly as the wife jerked on the rope affixed to his genitalia with every contraction she experienced. I treated the poor man’s injuries—severe lacerations—following the birth…
    My Dear Tinbury,
    The Olmec Jade phallus I herewith enclose from La Venta, Mexico, is for the Museum, as I understand you have nothing from that extremely curious Mexican culture…
    She sorted through the packet of correspondence, but it was again all in the same vein: Dr. Huntt describing various bizarre medical customs he had witnessed in his travels across Central America and Africa, along with notes that had apparently accompanied artifacts sent back to the Museum. He seemed to have an unhealthy interest in native sexual practices; it made him a prime candidate in Nora’s mind.
    She felt a presence behind her and turned abruptly. Pendergast stood, arms clasped behind his back. He was staring down at her notes, and there was a sudden look on his face that was so grim, so dark, that Nora felt her flesh crawl.
    “You’re always sneaking up on me,” she said weakly.
    “Anything interesting?” The question seemed almost pro forma. Nora felt sure he had already discovered something important, something dreadful, on the list—and yet he did not seem inclined to share it.
    “Nothing obvious. Have you ever heard of this Dr. Ferdinand Huntt?”
    Pendergast gave the name a cursory glance, without interest. Nora became aware of the man’s conspicuous lack of any scent whatsoever: no smell of tobacco, no smell of cologne, nothing.
    “Huntt,”he said finally. “Yes. A prominent North Shore family. One of the early patrons of the Museum.” He straightened up. “I’ve examined everything save the elephant’s-foot box. Would you care to assist me?”
    She followed him over to the table laid out with Tinbury McFadden’s old collections, a decidedly motley assortment. Pendergast’s face had once again recovered its poise. Now Officer O’Shaughnessy, looking skeptical, emerged from the shadows. Nora wondered what, exactly, the