Casey was so bored with sitting for hours every day at the museum he could hardly wait to get out of there at night. He’d been keeping an eye on Trevor and caught him more than once looking over the artifacts on Casey’s desk. Casey developed a placement system, so one day, when he came in and saw that things were not as they should be, he knew right away that a couple of bone fragments were missing.
What to do? Though they were from a selection he hadn’t categorized yet, he knew how many had been on his desk, but not which ones weren’t there now. Looking up, Casey spotted the camera above the museum entrance. He was sure its range reached as far as his desk. When he finished work, he’d ask security if he could have a look at its footage of the afternoon. He’d do it without implicating Trevor, just say he wanted to see how much the camera saw.
The day dragged on. He couldn’t read, of course, because he had to work and watch the door. There hadn’t been any visitors even remotely like the two he’d seen back in June. He was convinced the conspirators’ plans had changed and they weren’t coming back. Dr. Norman and the security staff thought so too, but asked Casey to stay till the middle of August, just in case.
Casey did get to see the surveillance camera video that evening. He’d made an appointment with the head of security, who worked out of the administration office, and was let into the building as it closed for the night. He took care not to be seen by Trevor, who was busy serving a customer who couldn’t make up her mind. Pretending to be looking at the tape to see if the suspects were on it, Casey was actually hoping to get a look at Trevor taking stuff from his desk. At one point there was a “whooshy” moment on the tape as someone’s arm whipped across the camera’s range. It could have been Trevor’s: it could have been anybody’s.
I’ll have to catch him in the act, Casey thought, deciding he’d better not accuse Trevor without proof.
The next day, Casey dabbed red marker on the back side of all the samples left on his desk. Then he set his plan into motion. The next time when he signalled for security to hold the crowd while he went to the washroom, he didn’t. He stood flat against the bend of the corridor leading to the washrooms and waited.
He saw Trevor dash across from the Gift Shop and scoop up a handful of fragments from Casey’s desk. Casey darted out and grabbed Trevor’s wrist. Trevor tried to wrench his arm free but Casey held on firm.
“Drop them, Trevor,” he whispered. “Drop them and bring back the others you’ve taken.”
“Yeah,” Trevor sneered. “Or what?”
“Or,” Casey said, “you’ll lose your job.”
“Your word against mine, Casey,” Trevor hissed, as he dropped the samples back on Casey’s desk. “Like who’s going to believe a know-it-all newcomer like you? I’ll just say you took the stuff yourself.”
“You want to take the chance?” Casey asked. “Just look at your palm.”
Trevor stared down at his open palm. It was a mass of red marks. Casey picked up one of the pieces Trevor had dropped and showed Trevor the red marking on it.
“You swear you’ll bring back the stuff you stole and I won’t call security. Otherwise I will, right now.”
Trevor was so furious he turned dark red. He was muttering to himself as he crossed to the Gift Shop and went in. Casey followed and saw Trevor take out a key from his pocket and unlock a side drawer of his desk. He reached in, gathered up a big handful of specimens, then walked over and dumped the pieces into Casey’s open hands. One fell. Trevor gave it a little kick with the toe of his right shoe, and walked away.