My old partner, Max Stein, would have wanted to skin me alive for what I had done. Myself, I thought I was creative. Among the items Max had collected and stashed were books. Some of them were in recognizable languages, but a few were completely indecipherable, written in a dead language that even scholars at DeGradi University couldn’t speculate on.
But the books were old, which meant they were valuable at least to a certain crowd, and I had a flair for the dramatic when it suited me.
I walked to the displays for medieval history, specifically that of Central Asia, where I was able to see a book on display under a glass case. Like most documents, the book was sealed in the case to prevent air from further deteriorating it, and the glass was tinted against specific wavelengths of light.
Best of all, was the plague underneath reading, “On loan from the estate of Matt Kinney.”
I had always liked that alias, and it didn’t take much to convince someone of authenticity more than an authentic artifact, which every scholar knew the book had originated in medieval Asia. It was just undecipherable. But I got to use the museum’s security to keep it safe.
I continued on my tour, walking into the special exhibit of Ancient Mayan artifacts. Wonder if I have something I can pass off as Mayan.