Lehal Library

Well, I decided, if I got to Washington early enough, I could once more view the magnificent collection of minerals and crystals housed in the Museum of Natural History. Doing so had turned me on for years. So, as the sun was rising in the rather cool late winter weather, I made my way to LaGuardia Airport, and got aboard the next air-shuttle to Washington, about a fifty minute ride. I arrived with plenty of time to spare. In fact, the museum wasn't yet open, so I got some coffee and a roll from one of the venders in the Mall, and smoked some more cigars. Needless to say, even when viewing the three-foot crystals, and looking at the egg-sized precious gems, my mind was not at all on them. In fact, I was sweating most of the time. Nerves? Apprehension? Finally, I went to the mezzanine Soor which encircles the museum's great rotunda. As covertly as possible (to my way of thinking, anyway) I surveyed the floor below - in the center of which stands the famous stuffed elephant with his absolute majesty entirely visible to all who take a moment to consider it. Assuming I was supposed to act like any other tourist, at noon I was standing in front of the giant elephant, pretending to have interest in it. Behind me a voice spoke. "Mr. Swann?" I turned, and was immediately handed a card which read: Please do not speak or ask any questions. This is for our safety as well as yours. If I had not been convinced before that I was getting into something suspicious, I was now certain. For the guy who handed me the card stared at me with burning green eyes, which clearly indicated he meant business. I didn't dare speak, He was young, and looked like he had been produced as a fashion model for a Marine basic-training camp - which is to say, tallish, hunky, serious, and complacent in his ability to kill very quietly. But even more astonishing was the fact that there were TWO of them which as far as I could tell were twins. Dozens of museum visitors were flowing all around us. After reading the card, I blinked. The first guy pulled out a photograph which I could see was of me. He studiously compared the photograph face to mine. He then took my hand as if he was shaking it, and compared the tattoo on it to another photograph - the tattoo I had gotten as a result of a rather drunken desire in 1962. He then nodded to his duplicate, who had been watching the rotunda in a professional way, and this twin came over and repeated the sequence. They then both initialed what seemed to be a kind of check-sheet in a small address booklet.