On a bench in a San Francisco Mission District urban garden, mid-morning crowds were visible on Mission Street, but in the midst of shrubs and flowers in this one-of-many pocket gardens in the City, conversations were surprisingly private ."I have a plan. I've already set it in motion", Nicholas said to Jack. “It concerns money in a trust that I control, although I have never done anything with it. Indeed, The money has been sitting in a bank in France accumulating interest for at least a century.
"In a small town in Nova Scotia", a retired McGill University Professor is collecting objects with a focus on French culture in Acadia -- beginning with accounts of fishing on the Grand Banks of Newfoundland and also including documentation of local plants and kitchen gardens and paintings and drawings of animal populations. To house maps, written accounts, and objects, he has founded a small museum. Everywhere, including on historic vessals, in Nova Scotia, there is a tradition of small museums with overlapping missions. This museum is on a promontory that overlooks a bay of the Atlantic Ocean. An associated cafe serves French food, and it is the only museum in Nova Scotia where one of my numerous second cousins is the curator. The trust which I mentioned has this week donated a substantial amount of money to the museum I have just described."
"Doesn't this trust have a Board?"
"The board consists of my Father, my Mother, and my wife. They have all agreed to my plan." Nicolas's voice had taken on a distinctly Inspector Clouseau accent.
