The Medusa Stone

Chapter 2

Dr. Heidmann’s heels clapped on the pristinely polished floor of the museum. In his hands, he held a plethora of plans for his upcoming exhibition on Ancient Greek Art, The Mythos Paradigm with which he hoped to establish a renewed interest in the beauty of antique sculpture. A failed artist himself, he endeavored to bring what he could not capture with his diluted talent to the masses, regardless. James Heidmann was driven purely by a love for art and a passion for educating the modern mind on the unfathomable treasures of a millennium past, for the most part.

His footsteps echoed through the hallway of the magnificent Queen Elizabeth II Great Court. The museum was still closed, but he had to deliver his ideas to the curators before opening today, otherwise he would forfeit his slot for consideration. The slight built 50-year-old wore his trademark bow tie which hardly made up for his scruffy hair and round framed glasses. As he rushed along the corridors, the sublime works of architects and painters hardly merited his attention, but he certainly enjoyed the smell of the vast complex where he had always wanted to lecture.

At last, he came to the board room where he was to meet with one Mrs. Soula Fidikos, art curator Prof. Helen Barry and a prospective backer and benefactor, Mr. David Purdue. When Dr. Heidmann reached the formal façade of the office where they waited, he could not help but feel a jolt of excitement burst through him. Naturally, he was very nervous, but for the sake of what he tried to achieve such foolish impulses had to take a backseat to the task at hand.

His sweaty fingers opened the doors. Greeted by three very friendly professionals with teacups in hand, Dr. Heidmann already felt better.

“Welcome, Dr. Heidmann,” smiled Professor Barry. “I take it you did not get lost in this Minotaur’s maze?”

“Almost,” he exhaled in relief.

“It has long been a suggestion of mine to implement holographic tour guides to usher people about in the British Museum. It emphasizes the evolution of its regality so much more,” the tall, lean billionaire told Dr. Heidmann humorously. The bewildered and exhausted Heidmann smiled and nodded as he offered his hand in greeting. “David Purdue. Pleased to finally meet you.”

“Oh, an honor to meet a world renowned explorer and inventor such as yourself, Mr. Purdue,” Dr. Heidmann panted. “Please excuse the moist palms. I was quite worried that I would be tardy.”

“Not a problem,” Purdue chuckled. “And please call me Dave.”

“And this is Mrs. Soula Fidikos, Greek historian and owner of one of the biggest private collections of antique art in the world, all the way from her beautiful home on Maltese soil,” Prof. Barry introduced the serious- looking woman in black. Her appearance fascinated Dr. Heidmann, but he knew better than to stare. In fact, he hardly made eye contact with the strangely ravishing woman — oddly, for she possessed very little esthetic beauty. Her hair was jet black as her eyes, matching the hue of her clothing.

“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Fidikos,” he smiled, taking the lady’s hand gracefully for a brief formality.

“The pleasure is mine,” she replied. “It is so good to see that my own passion for the ancient world is shared somewhere in the world. Hardly something I come across often.” Her remark was aimed at Prof. Barry with the display of a stern look in jest, to which the professor reacted instantly.

“Oh, come on, Soula! I have always been more of a modern art, colorful palette person. You know that,” Dr. Barry defended. Purdue and Soula had a good laugh about the professor quick excuse.

“Tea, Dr. Heidmann?” she changed the subject, and he accepted readily.

“Now, tell us about your exhibition,” Soula requested as they sat down at the large desk to peruse his designs and proposals.

“Where to begin,” Heidmann stammered, momentarily caught off guard by the woman in black.

“Begin with which pieces you have to display here and if there is anything as yet undeclared you may have that the world should know about,” she soothed his chaotic mind. He found her mesmerizing, even in her less than attractive guise.

Soula’s large dark eyes, her nose oversized in the most subtle way and the careless cleavage of an ill-fitting undergarment caught his attention. Around her forearms and neck she wore what appeared to be platinum jewelry, but unlike the pieces most women preferred. They were all thick and featureless, like solid mercury adorning a tanned hide. Lace and embroidery decorated most of her low cut dress that hung down over her boots, falling perfectly over what were arguably the most perfect curves he had ever seen. The contrast between the black attire and the mirroring jewelry was notable, but her fingernails were clean and only slightly grown out. Her elegance and wealth were hampered by a careless personal chaos.

“I have procured some of the classics with permission from their various resident institutions, such as the Riace bronzes and the fallen warrior from the Temple of Aphaia. There is a list of pieces I have managed to borrow so far for the exhibition, but I do have an excessive collection of my own,” he informed the three people while their eyes surveyed the list and ideas noted on the documents.

“Your own collection, Dr. Heidmann,” Purdue mentioned with inspiring interest. “Where is that kept currently? If you wish to have those exhibited, we should have a look at the logistics and transportation details before deciding which works would best benefit an exhibition.”

Suddenly, the woman in black reared her head like a cobra, awaiting Heidmann’s response. It started his sensibilities somewhat that she seemed adamant on learning the location of his collection. Maybe he was just intimidated by her obviously superior resources.

‘Stop being so bloody paranoid, you idiot,’ he told himself. ‘They do not know where you got it from. For all they know, you bought the pieces over the course of your career. This is no time to falter.’

“I hope to bring some of the lesser-known statues and plaques from my warehouse in Cornwall,” Dr. Heidmann smiled. He was stoked to be able to show the remarkable pieces in his possession to the world and get exclusive coverage via the public relations office of Prof. Barry’s department.

“That can be done,” Purdue affirmed.

Dr. Heidmann liked Dave Purdue’s positive expression. Funding looked good for his exhibit, but he was not one to count his chickens. Both women were looking through his proposals and pictures of the obscure statues he spoke of. It was uncanny how they differed in appearance. One was of Greek origin, the other British. One wore black clothes and had dark, hard features against the other’s fair complexion, light green eyes and light brown hair, wearing an impeccably neat red suit.

Purdue noticed the way in which Dr. Heidmann regarded the two ladies.

“Stark contrast, are they not?” he sniggered, thoroughly enjoying the bewildered Dr. Heidmann’s reaction.

“Uh, yes,” he jumped. “It is just so…”

“Obvious, impossible to miss, I’d say,” the billionaire agreed.

Soula looked up from the high definition pictures, once more staring Dr. Heidmann into an uncomfortable state. She waited a few moments before addressing him, just to watch him squirm under her scrutiny. He was very anxious, one thing she did not like about him, but she was not in charge here.

“Dr. Heidmann,” she said in her authoritarian tone. “Do you have authentication… provenances… for these unknown pieces?” she finally asked.

“Yes, Mrs. Fidikos. For those that do not have provenances already, there are certified authenticity records based on isotopic analyses performed to determine their age and origin,” he answered, interlocking his fingers in a restful gesture upon the desk.

It denoted an aura of professionalism, not to mention a welcome tranquility he realized was much needed to persuade them. Purdue noticed that Soula was unusually enthralled by the photographs, almost as if she was not familiar with them. The latter was virtually impossible as Soula Fidikos was one of the world’s leading traders in antiquity, an expert of the highest order. There was hardly ever any piece, prominent artist, era or method she had no knowledge of, especially in Greek art. After all, she was predominantly Greek, with an unbroken bloodline rooted in many of the Mediterranean countries.

Purdue pulled her aside when Dr. Barry and Dr. Heidmann went to replenish their beverages.

“You look off kilter, dear Soula,” Purdue said under his breath. “Pray tell?”

She took her time in responding, first looking up at Purdue with a twinge of defeated confusion. Scowling, she sighed in frustration.

“I am not sure, Dave. Something bothers me about those sculptures — the unknown ones,” she started, but her thoughts seemed to dwell away from her mouth.

“Do you think they are frauds?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” she replied. It was clear that she was uncertain about their authenticity. “I am not saying they are not legitimate antiques, but…”

“But what? You have me holding my breath here, old girl,” he urged her. “If there is even the slightest chance that he is playing us then I am not financing this exhibition, even knowing how desperately you want your heritage and history resurrected. You know that.”

“I know, Dave,” she moaned. “Look, if he had records of authenticity, we cannot fault him. All I am saying is that I usually question works I have personally never heard of.” Soula shrugged, “It could just be my pride getting in the way because I pride myself on being the authority on Greek Art and here comes an unknown academic who knows of, and owns, precious artifacts I had no knowledge of.”

“It is not that ludicrous that you would feel that way,” Purdue agreed. “I mean, I would feel the same way if someone suddenly introduced me to next level technology, devised from methods I had never employed myself. But apart from that, I need to know if I am at risk of donating to a lost cause, Soula.”

“No, I think it is absolutely lucrative. I am just taken aback that I do not know these pieces. Nonetheless, you know that is no reason to simply refute their authenticity. I can assure you, the paperwork is genuine,” she confirmed, and that was all Dave Purdue needed to hear.

Returning to the meeting, all four parties discussed the details of setting up the exhibit deadline and clarified all the dates to facilitate the upcoming showing. Dr. Heidmann was ecstatic. For too long, had he waited and wished he could share the beauty of his own collection, now coming to fruition. He just prayed that nobody would ever discover where he had procured his precious artifacts from.