Роберт Фиш - The Gold of Troy

Someone on the board yawned quite audibly. Ruth McVeigh clenched her jaw and glared down the table. The offending member regarded her quite calmly and then turned to face the chairman at the head of the long conference table.

“Mr. Chairman,” he said, “I think we’ve discussed this subject more than amply. Ad nauseum, I should say. I suggest we put it to a motion.”

“Mr. Ainsley? Would you care to—”

“I would, indeed. I move that we do not, under any pretext, under any subterfuge such as ‘proxy’ or ‘private collector’ or in any other manner, even faintly consider the acquisition of the Schliemann treasure, authentic or not, by the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”

The chairman looked down the table, gavel in hand.

“Do I hear a second?”

“Second!” It came from most of the board members present.

“Before we vote on the motion, is there any discussion?”

“Mr. Chairman!” Ruth McVeigh came to her feet, blaming herself for her previous ill-considered attack on the staid members of the board. Different tactics were needed and she now kept her voice emotionless, under rigid control. It was, she knew, her last chance. “Mr. Chairman, members of the board, I should like to ask your indulgence in one thing. Before you vote on the motion, I should like to pose a question I want each of you to answer honestly. Is the problem here the question of legal ownership of the collection, or is it the matter of the fifteen million dollars?”

“Both!” someone said. There was a brief laugh from someone and then silence.

“If, for example,” Ruth McVeigh went on evenly, “it was a matter, say, of one million dollars, or half-a-million dollars, would you be more willing to chance the questions of legal ownership?”

Dr. Keller raised a hand and was granted the floor.

“Definitely not,” he said flatly. “Speaking for myself — and I’m sure for the majority here — definitely not. It isn’t a question of the size of the amount. It’s still a question of legality.”

“Besides,” someone said in a puzzled tone without waiting for permission to speak, “how can we talk of a million dollars, or half a million, if the starting bid was supposed to be fifteen million?” It was one of the few supporters Ruth had in the room and she appreciated his giving her the opportunity to explain.

“Wait, please.” Ruth was examining the explanation that had come to her and finding it more and more to her liking. Even her tone became more confident. She looked from one face to another down the long table, suddenly sure she could convince them, or at least most of them. “Suppose we were able to get the fifteen leading museums in the world, say, to agree to each put up one million dollars — or thirty museums to each contribute half a million — and the treasure would then be owned jointly by all of us. And suppose those museums were to include the Turkish, the Greek, and German — all the possible claimants to ownership. Suppose they all agreed not only to share the ownership, but also agreed on a period and a schedule for each one to exhibit the treasure?”

There was silence as this new concept was explored. Then Bob Keller shook his head.

“The claimants would never agree.”

“How do we know?” Ruth was looking at him, a faint smile on her lips. “How will we ever know unless we ask them?”

The chairman cleared his throat. The discussion had taken a distinctly different turn and the looks on the faces of the board members indicated their changed attitudes as well. The chairman looked at the museum’s new director.

“Exactly what are you suggesting, Ruth?”

Ruth McVeigh took a deep breath, sure now she would win her point.

“I’m suggesting that I arrange a meeting of the directors, together with the interested curators, of the leading museums at some central location — say London — where we can discuss the entire matter of the auction in detail. No matter what any individual museum may have been aiming for in the way of a bid — and I assure you I was telling the truth before when I said they were — still, the matter of money has to have been a problem. If we can co-operate, at least the question of finances can be overcome. And, without competition, we can keep the price down to at least the original figure of fifteen million, if not less.”

She looked around the table. Everyone was watching her evenly, listening to her words carefully. She kept her inward smile from appearing on her lips and continued quietly.

“As to the question of ownership, if the major claimants can be induced to go along with us, that problem can be solved as well. Possibly we may even discuss paying the share of the major claimants; most of them are precisely the museums with the least ability to finance any bid of any kind. Such a proposition certainly should interest them — to have at least a partial claim to ownership, rather than none as at present. And to be able to exhibit the treasure at least for a limited period, rather than never, as at present.” She sat down.

There was silence, then a hand was raised. The chairman nodded. “Mr. Ainsley?”

“Mr. Chairman,” the man said, his voice now more respectful, “I should like to withdraw my last motion and replace it with another. I move that Dr. McVeigh be given instructions by this board to pursue her suggestion, as well as all the necessary resources to do so. I further move that after she has met with these various representatives of these other museums, that she bring the results of her meeting back to the board for consideration.”

“Second!”

“Any discussion?” There was silence. “If not, all in favor?”

“Aye!”

“Opposed?”

There was silence. The chairman tapped his gavel and spoke.

“The motion is carried. I will see Dr. McVeigh tomorrow to make arrangements.” He paused a moment to look down the table, and then went on in a different tone of voice. “As I’m sure we all know, the discussions we have in these board meetings are for the benefit of the Metropolitan Museum and are not to be handed out to the press or other media without the permission of the chairman. It is not that there is any particular secrecy to our meetings” — he smiled — “any more than there is strict attention to Roberts Rules of Order. But our discussion today is a good example of the reason for care in these matters. The negotiations we have authorized our director to undertake could easily be compromised by any undue or premature publicity. There has been enough idle speculation in the press over this auction as it is, and I’m sure there will be more when the London meeting — if that is where the meeting takes place — becomes public, as it undoubtedly will in the very near future. Thank you. If there is no further business, I will entertain a motion to adjourn...”

Bob Keller was waiting for Ruth in the hallway after the meeting broke up. He smiled at her.

“Well, congratulations, war horse. You don’t give up easily, do you?”

Ruth smiled back. “Bob, we’re either going to get the Schliemann treasure, or we’re going to give it a good try. Part of it, at least, if not all of it.”

Keller shook his head.

“It won’t even be a try. I didn’t oppose you in there because I think a meeting with the other museums may be a good idea. It may finally convince you of what I’ve been trying to tell you. Nobody will touch the bid under the present ownership arrangements. And certainly the real claimants will dig in their heels at the thought of sharing ownership.”

“Even at the cost of losing it altogether?”

“Even at the cost of losing it altogether.”

Ruth shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

“I’ll make you a bet,” Keller said. “Loser buys the other dinner. And to establish my good intentions of paying off if I lose, why don’t we have dinner together tonight as a preliminary?”