Odd-looking guy: somber “black suit, pale cat’s eyes, blond-white hair combed severely back from a high forehead. Annoying, too. Annoying as hell. He’d been there all afternoon, making demands and throwing the maps askew. Every time Willson turned back to his computer to resume work on his own pet project--the definitive monograph on Zuñi fetishes--the man would be up, asking more questions.As if on cue, the man got out of his chair and glided over noiselessly. “Pardon?” he said in his polite but insistent mint-julep drawl.Willson glanced up from the screen. “Yes?” he snapped.“I hate to trouble you again, but it’s my understanding that the Vaux and Olmstead plans for Central Park called for canals to drain the Central Park swamps. I wonder if I could look at those plans?”Willson compressed his lips. “Those plans were rejected by the Parks Commission,” he replied. “They’ve been lost. A tragedy.” He turned back to his screen, hoping the man would take the hint.
