Free The Final Crumpet by Ron Benrey, Janet Benrey

antiquities in our collection.”
    “I’ll bet there’s lots to photograph in your lab,” Paco said.
    “There certainly is—are either of you allergic to cats?”
    “Cats?” Harry said. “What function do the cats perform in your laboratory?”
    “If Lapsang and Souchong serve any function at all,” Flick said with a shake of her head, “it’s purely decorative.” She pointed the way to the Conservation Laboratory.
    As usual, the two cats had taken up residence on the bottom shelves of two laboratory workstations at opposite ends of the Conservation Laboratory. One slept beneath an elaborate optical microscope, the other below a deceptively simple-looking electronic instrument called a gas chromatograph that was, Flick knew, capable of performing many kinds of sophisticated chemical analyses.
    While Paco shot footage of the laboratory equipment, Harry made a beeline for the first of the cats. “This seems to be an exceedingly happy British Shorthair. Would this be Lapsang or Souchong?”
    As she always did, Flick said, “Lapsang is the larger of the two,” hoping she was right. In fact, she didn’t have a clue which cat was which.
    One day, I must properly identify them.
    Harry seemed satisfied. He knelt down, scratched “Lapsang’s” tummy, and finished his interview with Flick “Lab equipment makes great scenery. Why don’t you sit on the high stool in front of that colorful machine? Paco can shoot you from several angles while you talk”
    Flick took her position in front of the chromatograph. “Fire when ready.”
    “Dr. Adams—have you given any thought to creating an exhibit about Etienne Makepeace?”
    She tried not to look surprised. The question was virtually identical to one asked at the news conference by the reporter from the Kent and Sussex Courier.
    Stuart said to give the same answers to the BBC.
    Flick tried to remember exactly what Nigel had said.
    Something about there being no connection between the history of tea and Etienne Makepeace. Perhaps she could come up with a paraphrase…
    Good heavens! Nigel was wrong. And so was I.
    Flick abruptly realized that they had both made a serious mistake. Keeping Etienne Makepeace out of a British tea museum would be like excluding Amelia Earhart from an American aviation museum. Equally important, millions of Brits were fascinated by his disappearance and reappearance. A good exhibit about Makepeace might draw significant numbers of new visitors to the museum.
    It’s a no-brainer! We need a Makepeace Gallery.
    She took a deep breath and began. “What I’ve learned about Etienne Makepeace convinces me that he was a fascinating man—a man worthy to have his story told at the Royal Tunbridge Wells Tea Museum.”
    These words finished springing from her lips as the door to the Conservation Laboratory opened and Nigel stepped inside. She went on, “The focus of our museum is the history of tea. Makepeace played a small, but exciting, role in that history. His story seems worth telling via an appropriate exhibit.”
    Harry nodded. “I’m delighted to hear you say that, Dr. Adams. I’m sure that you and your staff will do Etienne Makepeace’s memory proud. Have you given any thought to where in the museum you might place your new exhibit?”
    Smack in the middle of the Hawker family suite, Flick thought. She glanced at Nigel standing in the back of the laboratory. The expression on his face had gone from happy, to bewildered, to surprised, to angry. Without saying a word, he turned and left.
    Oh dear—-he doesn’t understand what happened
    “One more question, Dr. Adams,” Harry said. “When do you expect a Makepeace exhibit to be up and running?”
    Flick worked to keep an even expression on her face despite her growing uneasiness about Nigel. She wanted to finish this interview quickly and calm him down.
    “That’s difficult to say. A museum can be an unpredictable environment.”
    Especially when Nigel Owen’s feelings are