Free Murder on the Silk Road by Stefanie Matteson Page A

doorstep.”
    Charlotte wondered if he was on drugs, so overwrought were his gestures and rapid-fire his delivery.
    “Just where is the site?” asked Peng.
    “In the foothills of the Mountain of the Three Dangers,” he replied, flinging an arm toward the east wall of the dining hall. “About a mile and a half due east of the Cave of Unequaled Height.”
    “Isn’t that where the monk Lo-tsun saw his vision of the thousand Buddhas?” asked Marsha.
    “Yes. I was thinking about calling it the Thousand Buddhas Site, but I decided on the Dragon’s Tomb Site instead. The Chinese call dinosaur fossils dragon’s bones.” He turned to Bert, and continued: “It’s not at all like Montana, Bert, old man—a bone here, a bone there. It’s literally paved with bones, and they’re not all broken up. I’ve been finding fully articulated skeletons, as neatly laid out as a skeleton in a coffin.”
    “What exactly have you been finding, Larry?” asked Orecchio. He tried to phrase the question casually, but the tremor in his voice revealed his eagerness to find out what the site held in store.
    “Yeah, Lar,” said Dogie. “Let’s get our chips out on the table. Have you just got some more duckbills or have you got somethin’ really excitin’?”
    “For the uninitiated among us, duckbills are duckbilled dinosaurs, not platypi,” explained Bert as a waiter arrived with a plate of thin-skinned mutton dumplings, and the usual tray of beer and orange soda.
    “I’ve found duckbills all right. Try a nest of baby duckbills with skeletons intact for starters. But that’s just the icing on the cake. Yours truly, Lawrence Alexander Fiske, the third”—he puffed out his barrel-shaped chest and thumped it with one fat fist—“has made the greatest dinosaur fossil find of the century. Or maybe the second greatest. Far be it for me to be the one to deny the great Roy Chapman Andrews his due.”
    The faces of the other paleontologists were incredulous.
    “And what is that, pray tell?” said Bert as he passed the plateful of dumplings around. He was clearly skeptical.
    “I’m not going to tell you, I’m going to show you.” He nodded deferentially to the group. “You are all cordially invited to my camp tomorrow for Show and Tell time. A luncheon buffet and champagne will be served afterwards. Shall we say around ten?” He turned to Charlotte and Marsha. “I would be delighted if you ladies would join us.”
    “Not even a hint?” pleaded Dogie.
    “Okay, a hint,” said Larry. “It’s not only what I’ve found, though what I’ve found is extraordinary enough in and of itself.” He paused to cast a sidelong look at Orecchio. “It’s where I found it.”
    “Where he found it,” Dogie repeated, rolling his eyes to the heavens as he nibbled on a dumpling that wobbled precariously between the tips of his chopsticks. “Don’t tell me that you’ve found the skeleton of the mythical duckbill who survived the cosmic zap.”
    “You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out, won’t you?”
    The conversation was interrupted by the return of the waiter, this time with a big platter of noodles and another of sauteed mutton, onions, and tomatoes. He also carried a plateful of the unleavened bread, similar to pita bread, that was a specialty of the area.
    “How did you become interested in dinosaurs, Mr. Fiske?” asked Charlotte after they had all served themselves. As Peter had told them, the food here was a lot better than the food on the train.
    Dogie snorted. “Tell Miss Graham, Larry,” he prompted.
    “ All About Dinosaurs , by Roy Chapman Andrews,” Larry replied. “I read it in fifth grade, and decided then and there that I wanted to be a paleontologist when I grew up. Some people may snicker”—he glowered in mock anger at Dogie—“but a lot of other paleontologists have come to the profession in the same way. In addition to being a great explorer, RCA was also a great writer.”
    “The