Neckerchief

The Boy Scout wore a red neckerchief, the ends clasped with a sliding knot ornament.

Self-assured, peripatetic and unfailingly dapper — he favored dark double-breasted suits and the occasional neckerchief, and once made the cover of Men’s Vogue in Italy — Mr. Enwezor never doubted that an African had every right to take the lead at Western art institutions.

The fella in question was still sitting at his table, sans everything above the neckerchief. There was blood everywhere, and brain matter, and bits of skull, and what looked like very expensive bone china.