“This looks wonderful.” Elsa nodded at the diorama, and he thanked her. “I’m here to drop off a Spix’s macaw that needs a new mount. Mr. Chapman will visit later with instructions. For now, where should I put him?”
“Ah! From Elmhurst? That place holds untold treasures.” He beckoned her to follow him, and she did so, happy to share this with her friend.
When they reached a long table, Archer cleared off a space. “Set him here for now. I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Knopf as soon as I see him.”
Thanking him, she pulled the box from her satchel. Linus’s folders came with it, spilling all over the floor.
“I’ve got it.” Archer took a knee to gather the documents back into the folders. “What’s all this?”
Elsa set the box on the table and told him. “We found them in a secret office off the library, which I think must have been used for the Underground Railroad.”
“Really? Incredible. I’ve got to see that house for myself sometime.” Turning his attention back to the papers, he pulled out a program. “I remember this. You hadn’t started working here yet, but it was a big deal.” He passed her the papers.
The Second International Exhibition of Eugenics
Held September 22 to October 22, 1921, in connection withthe
Second International Congress of Eugenics
in the
American Museum of Natural History, New York
Includes an account of the organization of the exhibition, the classification of the exhibits, thelist of exhibitors, and a catalog and description of the exhibits.
Elsa flipped through the pages but quickly decided it warranted attention she couldn’t give it now. Instead, she slipped it inside the folder Archer handed her and tucked everything back into her satchel. “Did you go?”
Archer rubbed a fleck of paint from his thumbnail. “I helped get the Forestry Hall ready for special exhibits of eugenics and allied sciences. You know those glass cases in the sixteen alcoves along the central corridor? We covered those up with panels and grey cloth as a backdrop for the temporary displays. I also worked in the Hall of the Age of Man, getting the space ready for exhibitors from all over the world.”
“What did you think?”
He grinned. “I thought it was an awful lot of work for just one month.”
Elsa swatted his arm. “That’s not what I meant. Did you read the exhibits or just prep the space for them? And if you read them, what did you think?” She leaned a hip against the table, easing the pressure off her leg.
“Sure, I read some.” He shrugged. “I’m no anthropologist, but it makes sense. I mean, if what they say is true, the rate of madness is outpacing the birthrate of the general population. And if we can take steps to slow down or halt the production of degenerates altogether, why wouldn’t we? Those who don’t contribute to society are a burden on the rest of us.”
Elsa considered asking what constituted a contribution to society, but that conversation was too big for the brief moment they had. “Well, your paint is drying, and Mr. Miller is waiting for me, so I’ll let you go.”
Lifting the box’s lid, Archer peeked inside the paper cone and whistled low. “That’s a beautiful bird, Elsa.”
She smiled in agreement. “This may be the rarest discovery I make at Elmhurst, or anywhere else for that matter. Although, I’m still keeping a lookout for that Eurasian eagle-owl at thepark. It would be amazing to see Zeus in nature—but also a little bit like cheating to simply find him in Central Park. Spotting a zoo animal on the other side of its cage isn’t much of an accomplishment.”
Archer chuckled. “Speaking of rare and valuable discoveries, did you find the aviary yet? It has stiff competition, but it might beat the macaw and the owl if you find it.”
“Oh.” Elsa adjusted her glasses. “No, I’m no closer on that score, despite being more determined than ever.” She started back through the Asiatic Hall, and he walked with her. “By the way, how did it go with Percy Saturday night?”
A frown flickered over Archer’s brow. “Saturday?”
“When I saw you at work Friday morning, you mentioned you planned to spend time with him Saturday evening in an attempt to dissuade him from gambling. Did you steer him back on the straight and narrow?”
“Ah.” He stopped at the diorama he’d been painting and retrieved the paintbrush from the cup. “Percy isn’t a bad egg, but he is a hard one to crack. If he’s just lost a game, he’s desperate to win the next to break even. If he wins, he thinks he’s on a lucky streak and doesn’t want to quit. It’s a vicious cycle.”
“So don’t let him anywhere near the gaming halls,” Elsa said. “If you can’t find a suitable distraction in New York, you won’t find one anywhere.”
“Ziegfeld’s Follies ought to do nicely. Want to come?”
The Follies were certainly distracting. Ladies in huge feather headdresses and sequined costumes performed choreographed routines in fantastic sets to tunes like “We’re Cleaning Up Broadway.” It was all a bit too showy for Elsa’s taste, and she told him so. “But you and Percy should do whatever you want,” she added. She’d always suspected the Follies appealed more to men, anyway, with all those showgirls on stage.
