Swordplay

Part 37

Yehaw! (I hope this is spelled right. I hardly ever use something like it in my writing)

I made it into the final round of "The Write Award 2013" contest. I am very happy and grateful. Hopefully, you're all enjoying this story. Leave me a comment if something's amiss.

Thanks you all for your support.

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A quarter to three, she stood on the sidewalk in front of Frank’s and Tort’s flat, clean and with her hair washed, where Director du Mar picked her up like he had promised. When they entered the museum's entrance hall, Moira marveled at the number of guests.

Madame du Mar approached them, hugged her, and kissed her cheeks. "I am incredibly grateful."

"What for?" Gently, Moira freed herself. Madame du Mar's flowery perfume tickled her nose. "It has been my father who helped your husband to retrieve the weapons."

Madame waved her comment aside. "I've never been very interested in all this old stuff. For a while now, Charle has been courting me again. He brings me flowers and takes me dining. I finally have the feeling I'm just as important as his work. And that's your doing."

Moira remembered the talk she'd had an eternity ago with the director. "I'm surprised he followed my advice."

A bell rang. The guests hurried to the museum's right wing and onward through tow open doors into a separate showroom.

Madame du Mar pulled Moira along. "He's just as attentive as when we got to know each other. If I can ever help you in any way, please let me know."

Moira didn't like the praise. Her eyes scanned the room where Madame du Mar had taken her. The back was separated with a big, white linen curtain with a lectern in front of it. The rest of the room was filled with rows of chairs. Right at the front, she discovered her father.

"The places up front are reserved for us," Madame du Mar said. Moira squeezed through the crowd behind her until they reached the front row.

Lavant grinned. "Well, Sweets, how did you like our little adventure?"

"I'm fine but I would like to know who the seller of the weapons could have been." She made herself comfortable between him and Madame du Mar. "Hopefully, Buds and his boys found a couple of leads."

"I'm more concerned about the fact that he fled when he saw me."

Moira's head shot up. She hadn't thought about that yet, but her father was right. The seller of the stolen weapons had only fled when Lavant entered the circle of light. "Do you think he recognized you?"

"Possible. After all, I've been in the papers more than once." Lavant pointed to the front. "Sssst. It's starting."

Director du Mar walked to the lectern in a thunderstorm of flashes from the press. "Dear guests," he began. "I don't want to keep you on tenterhooks for long. Today, it is a great honor for me to present to you the reclaimed pieces of our latest dig. For the next four weeks, we will showcase them the way they were found during the rescue raid. Voilà!" he pulled a cord, the white linen whooshed to the side, and cleared the view for a Diorama.

Moira felt as if she was back in the storage hall. She could nearly see the shadowy figure with the wide rimed hat in the background. Again, Madame du Mar's flowery perfume filled her nose. She slapped her forehead. I forgot about the scent.

A reporter lifted his hand. "What will happen to the exhibit at the end of the four weeks?"

"They will be cleaned and examined by archeologists specialized on finds from Hern's area. I very much hope that we'll be able to present them together with the other finds in a themed exhibit permanently."