49
At the museum, Day asked at the reception desk for a word with the Curator and the man phoned through to Aristos. Turning from the desk to look at the entrance foyer, Day recalled the last time he was here, listening to Paul Metts address his tour group on the subject of Cycladic figurines. It seemed a very long time ago.
“The Curator is in his office. He’d like you to go up, Mr Day.”
“Thanks.”
Day took the wide, shallow old stone steps two at a time. He felt much better this morning, but the spring in his step was deliberate rather than spontaneous.
“Good morning, Martin. This is early for you.”
“You’re right there, Aristos. Everything’s a bit mad at the moment. I need to ask a favour. Please would you put these things in your safe? I’d really rather not be the one to lose them.”
