Then one day, Jes Canby (one of our Museum workers) happens to visit a junk store a few blocks off campus - Jes loves junk stores! As she’s wandering around looking at stuff, several aisles over, she sees something and thinks to herself, “Hunh. That kinda looks like the Osiris statue that was stolen from the Museum a few years ago.” She gets a couple aisles closer and thinks, “Wow, that really does look like the Osiris statue that got stolen!” She goes over to get a closer look and discovers the Museum accession numbers still on the side of the statue. She calls the police. The police show up. The FBI shows up (again). The shop owner is interrogated: Where did you get this statue?! Why, from Al the homeless junk guy, of course. Al wanders around on trash day and pulls out stuff, and the junk store guy buys it from him. Just last week, he paid Al $25 combined for the Osiris statue and an old side table. Does the FBI want the old side table, too? After much examination and consultation, the FBI does not want the old side table. And where, they ask, might the FBI find Al the homeless junk guy? I dunno, says the store owner, he’s homeless. So the FBI starts searching West Philly for Al. Eventually they find him. Where did you get the statue? they ask. “From the curb in front of some house a couple miles away; sometimes they throw away some nice stuff in that neighborhood.” They put him in the car and drive around a whole lot until they eventually find the right house (things look different from a car). They question the homeowner: Where and how did he get the Osiris statue? “I didn’t,” he says. "I have a large garage and my family and friends sometimes store things there. I was on vacation in Europe a few years ago, and when I got back, this statue was there. I asked my family and and friends about it and no one knew anything about it. “I started clearing out my garage a month or so ago, and asked again and no one still knew anything about the statue, so I gave it to my brother-in-law; he wanted it for a lawn ornament. Except his wife thought it was ugly and made him bring it back. I didn’t have any use for it, so I put it out with the trash.” Oh? asks the FBI real casually. Did anything else happen to show up around the same time? A pause while the homeowner thinks. “Oh yeah - there was a crystal ball, too. I gave it to my housekeeper - she’s really into all that New Age-y stuff. Where does she live? Oh, somewhere across the river - maybe Trenton, I think?” So the FBI gets the housekeeper’s info and drives across the river to Trenton and knocks on her door. She truly does have a bunch of New Age-y stuff in her place. They ask her about the crystal ball the homeowner gave her. “Oh yes,” she says. “You know, I used to keep it in my bedroom, but the light in there was just too strong - it burned a hole in my arm!” And where, they ask patiently, is it now? “Oh, it’s right over there.” She points. It’s on the coffee table; she’s using it as a hatstand. [continued]