Unidentified antiques

 Tommy Timms was an awkward twenty eight year old. Digging in the smelly wasteland.

He was bent over and lifting something out of the lower reaches of the Landfill.
Tommy wasn’t a quick study and he spent a good ten minutes eyeing it over.
Using both hands to turn it around and tilt it to every angle.
He thought it might be a cooking device as it appeared to be two pans joined together.
He began walking toward the exit where a grand quarry stood with many severe cuts into the hill of it.
He dipped the contraption into a steel container that had filled with water from the previous night’s rain.
Gray and brown oil residue slipped across the water surface.

An old man in a tow truck turned up, Henry was his name.
“Hello young mister Timms what the hell are you doing in the quarry this morning then?”
“Oh hi Henry, take a look at this closed cooking pan I pulled out of the landfill.”
“That’s not a closed cooking pan, it’s a bed warmer from probably about two hundred and fifty years ago.”
“Look at the underside of the pan, look for a maker’s mark.” Henry said.
Tommy pointed it up again under the overcast sky.
The words Dexter came to his eye.
“It says Timothy Dexter.”

Henry scratched his head.
“I wonder if that is one the bed warmers of old famous Timothy Dexter?”
Tommy looked again at it.
“Wow it’s so old and by now it’s probably useless. Do you want it?”
“Yeah why not.” Henry said amused
He lifted it again with both hands and placed it on the back of the pick up truck.

Henry took it down to the NewburyPort Museum Massachusetts.
“I’m sorry, so you are saying that this was one of the famous bedwarmers supposedly destined for the Caribbean?” The lady clerk said.
“I am.” Henry said.
“Where’s the evidence for the claim.” She said.

Henry turned the pan upward showing the makers mark.
The words Timothy Dexter were legible.
“Oh wow, so this is probably valued at around 3 million dollars. We can afford to pay you 2.5 million. You are welcome to try other museums.”
“Not that will do fine.” Henry said pleased with himself.

A year later Henry pulled up to Newbury transfer station and the abandoned quarry. His new Range rover.
An Old friend called Tom hailed him down.
“Hey Henry, long time no see. How did you get enough cash to buy a range rover. Towing cars must be paying out well.”
“Um long story, listen you see a young man around here his name is Tommy Timms?”
“Oh the salvage boy right? No he’s been missing. Rumor has it, he fell into the landfill looking for treasures.”