A Brilliant Plan

Chapter 21

Hi there, it's Alex again. Continue reading, give me feedback. Head over to my blogpage www.alexames.net  or Facebook site  facebook.com/alexameswriting. If you like Calendar's adventures, check out "Brilliant Actors", the adventure of Calendar in the movie business. 

BY STARTING WITHOUT breakfast, I beat the rush hour traffic to the UCLA campus. Before I went into the library, I read the morning papers and munched a bagel in a nearby coffee shop. Together with eager students, I marched into the reading hall of the library and inquired at the information desk as to how to get the book that I wanted. After a half-hour wait, the thesis was mine.

"Maximilian and the Native Americans – The Last Attempt," was a scientific—read, boring—account of Maximilian's short-lived efforts to unite Mexico with the goal of forming an independent state with a French model, blah, skim, blah, skim. Suddenly, a paragraph caught my attention: A second coronation was held in Mexico City in 1864. It was a low-key affair by today's standards but most of the social and political groups of the day had made their way to greet the new emperor with their gifts and their agendas. Among them was a group of representatives of the natives of Mexico. The author wrote about the different native Indian tribes who had their home in the territory that we call Mexico around 1860. This conglomerate of natives partially lived a nomadic lifestyle and partially in the villages. In early 1865, a group of those tribes made Maximilian a gift to support him in his plans to reform Mexico, give the natives more rights, provide them better education and give them equal status as citizens. At that time, it was probably considered akin to science fiction. A group of ten priests and elders offered a special crafted set of jewelry to Maximilian, each high priest offered one piece. Every piece in the set was of such a high standard in design, execution and style that Emperor Maximilian and Empress Carlotta were truly impressed by the dedication.

The maker or makers of the jewelry were unknown. There was no mention whatever of the pieces that went down in history as "The Maximilian Set."

The annotations and citations gave some sources for the existence of the set: there was a thesis on royal coronation gifts from 1954, some documents from the Museum of Mexican History and some old newspaper articles from El Diario Nuevo, which must have been a Mexican newspaper. I wrote down all the sources, hunted down a copy machine and made photocopies of the important pages from the thesis.

By intuition, I did a quick Internet search of the author's name, Benito P. Salanca, and it turned out that B. P. Salanca was assistant professor at the UCLA's history department. Such a small world, the university's public white pages even gave the office and phone number. I walked outside the library and called Professor Salanca's number from my cell phone. After three rings, a young voice said "Yeah."

"Professor Salanca, my name is Calendar Moonstone. I just read your thesis on Maximilian and the Natives. Could we meet?"

A second of silence. "Are you a student? My hours are... "

"No, I am a jewelry expert and I also work as a police consultant." Give it to him thick. "I am supporting the police in an art theft and wondered if you could tell me more about the Maximilian Set."

Another second of silence. "Sounds intriguing. When would it suit you? A meeting, I mean."

"What about now? I am at the library."

Salanca gave a small laugh. "What about Coffee Culture on Dickson Plaza?"

"Fifteen minutes," I said. "Look out for a stunning blonde with blue eyes and a black knapsack."