Relic (Pendergast, #1)

by Douglas Preston

Cerro Gordo

Whittlesey

jacaranda

Carlos, his sweating camp assistant,

Kothoga

Mbwun

Maxwell. All he’d cared about was getting those specimens

Maxwell should have been a paleobiologist instead of a physical anthropologist.

Crocker

jacamar;

Botocudo

Tupian,

Yanomamo,

squamosal

good Macanudo.

Is there such a thing as a bad Macanudo?

Pôrto de Mós,

cabouri flies

tepui.

Mannlicher .30 06

Ven

creosote.

calypso

He’d said his name was Ven Stevens, and no one questioned it. They wouldn’t have believed a first name of Stevenson,

Ricon, junior assistant to the harbormaster,

cruzeiros

Juan

“Yo!” Juan yelled, breaking into a trot. “Hey, no touching the elephants.” The boy looked scared and snatched back his hand; he was still at an age where a uniform impressed him.

Billy, the redhead,

trachydent.

The New York Museum of Natural History loomed

Beaux Arts

copper be...

old Curly the guard would be dozing in his chair at this time of the morning, propped up against the pillbox corner, a blackened calabash pipe resting on his ample front. But today he was awake and standing. He slid the door open. “Morning, Doctor,” he said. He called everyone ‘doctor,’ from graduate students to the Museum Director, whether they owned that title or not.

with Gregory Kawakita, a young Assistant Curator in the Evolutionary Biology Department.

Margo put her hand on the knob, wondering if she should wait for Kawakita. Then she opened the door. It would be a cold day in hell when she needed him as backup.

“Lost count,” the other replied. “But he can’t have any more breakfast to bring up.”

He spat, wiped his mouth, and turned around. Margo recognized Charlie Prine, the new conservation expert in the Anthro Department, hired on a temporary grant six months before to restore objects for the new exhibition. His face was ashen and expressionless.

Prine’s shoes were soaked in blood.

Prine’s eyes grew large and white. The policemen grabbed his arms and he resisted, neighing in panic.

A heavyset, balding man in a brown suit was standing in the doorway, a police radio shoved into one pocket of his ill-fitting jacket, an unlit cigar protruding from his mouth. Now he strode through,

The man in brown turned to look at Freed. “Lieutenant D’Agosta,” he rapped out. “New York City Police Department.”

unprepared for my presentation.” Margo knew Kawakita, young fast-track scientist that he was, would never be unprepared for anything.

Tall, lanky Bill Smithback clutched two spiral notebooks in the other hand, and his brown hair looked, as usual, as if he’d just gotten out of bed. A chewed pencil was tucked behind one ear, his collar was unbuttoned and his grimy tie knot pulled down. The perfect caricature of a hard-driving journalist, and Margo suspected he cultivated the look. Smithback had been commissioned to write a book about the Museum, focusing on the Superstition exhibition that would open next week. “Unnatural doings at the

“Charlie Prine? That guy couldn’t kill a six-pack, let alone a biped.

Wright’s going to give a press conference in the Great Rotunda at ten to quell the rumors. All that zoo talk.

William Smithback, Junior.

Frock

He’ll probably forget, as usual, and schedule something else, especially with this tragedy.

Kiribitu classification of medici...

ethnopharmacology.