You were walking down the curved corridor of the museum. The headless statue of a young man glowed in the corridor's dim lighting. He looked like a Greek or a Roman god, with his curly mop of hair and white marble shoulders. "The infamous Lorca runs the place. They stole it from him, they say. Here, in the Sala dei Misteri," the lady at the reception had said in her low, throaty voice.
"What is in room number 4?" You walk up to the numbered door. 4M. It took you only a couple of seconds to take in the ornate bronze doors decorated with sunbursts and Greek symbols. You walk to the next door and push. This one is locked. The next one as well. You find yourself in the back of the museum, the door to the small room comes down off its hinges. You can't help but wonder why you were invited to be a guest of the museum and given a VIP pass to enter Room 4.
It takes you only a couple of minutes to push the heavy hunk of metal off its hinges. Just as you're about to enter the room, you hear a voice behind you.
"I wouldn't go in there," it says. Something in the man's tone stops you dead in your tracks. He could have been your father's friend. Now that you think about it, the brown eyes and the curly hair do remind you of your father's best friend.
"Why?" you ask. But as you turn to face him, you realize that he could have been the man in the display case on the other side.
"As a representative of the museum, it's my job to stop you." He smiles.
"Why?" you ask.
"Because it's dangerous," he says walking towards you. You step completely into the room and slam the door behind you and lock it. You hear him grunt outside. Then, you hear a sharp smack.
"That's what you get for not listening when you should," he says through the door. You don't answer. Instead, you walk to the glass display case and your eyes widen. Lying inside was a perfectly proportioned bust of your father's friend. You notice a golden hoop earing on the side table.
"I was looking for something," you say absently to the busted earring. You look around. You are in a small-ish room about as big as a moderately sized closet. The windows are covered by thick curtains, and the room is lit by one clinical light.
You walk up to the walls, which are completely covered in theatrical lighting equipment. There was a stage on the floor. There is a small booth on the side right next to the safe. You walk up to that. A tape recorder.
You check the booth. There were tapes in the safe as well. You open the first one and change it. The humming a whirring of the machine stops, and the tape in the trays slides out. A strange jingle plays in the background. You take the tape out of the machine. There was another jingle going on. And it wasn't coming from the cassette. You heard the clunking of the door knob. You look up at the window., then pull the curtain down.
There were spotlights pointing at the window. You put your hands in front of the window. The walls turned into a stage setting. The curtain was the floor, the window was up. You saw the silhouette of someone. You heard a jingling sound. Thinking it was the cassette, you hurriedly turned it off, then ran towards the door.
As you went out, you saw the man from the display case looking right at you.
"What?" you said.
"Why do you bother?" The man's voice took you by surprise. Yet, it sounded like your father's friend.
You shake your head.
"I was looking for a round, golden earring."
For a moment, the man seemed puzzled. Then, the light dawns.
"Can you tell me why I was looking for it?" you ask him.
The man shakes his head.
"Can you tell me who I was looking for?"
The man shakes his head again.
"Was the earring yours?" you ask him. He shakes his head.
"Was it at the museum?"
The man shakes his head.
"Was it stolen?"
The man nods.