“But the note said—”
But Father Matteo was shaking his head quite vigorously. “No, absolutely not,” he said. “A fresco is actually part of the wall, Capitano. It is embedded in the actual plaster of the wall! And to steal it—you would have to remove the wall itself!”
“I see,” Koelliker said. “But then . . .” And he went silent. For there was no “but then.” He looked at the note. Then he looked at the Urbino Bible. “However,” he said, “if your Campinelli is, in reality, the man I think he is . . . Father, I think we must remove the seal on the fresco.”
“No, absolutely not,” Father Matteo said.
“If there is even the most remote chance that anyone in the world could steal a fresco—”
“But I tell you, Capitano, that’s absurd!”
“—then this man would find the way to do it. And,” Koelliker said, raising his voice slightly to override the priest, “placing a seal over it—telling you to leave it for three weeks—this gives him time to escape—with the stolen fresco!”
“Capitano, please, disabuse yourself of this mad notion,” Father Matteo said. “To steal a fresco— No, absolutely not. It can’t be done.”
Koelliker sighed. “Then I suppose you will insist on leaving this seal in place over the fresco?”
Father Matteo spread his hands helplessly. “But, Capitano, please—what choice do I have?” he said. “If there is even the slightest chance that he is telling the truth . . . ?” He shook his head. “Yes, certainly. We must leave it in place.”
“For three weeks,” Koelliker said.
“Or even four,” Father Matteo said.
Koelliker nodded. He knew well the limits of his authority, and he was there. “Amacker!” he called, and the corporal trotted over. “You are familiar with this Carlo Campinelli?”
“I have seen him, Captain,” Amacker said. “I know his face.”
“Take your men,” Koelliker said. “Do not make a fuss. We don’t want to alarm our visitors. But find him. Find Campinelli.”
“Yes, sir,” Amacker said. He hurried away and began dispersing the rest of the squad. Koelliker noted that one man stayed behind to guard the Urbino Bible. This man, a stocky man with a red beard, took up position beside the book, and Koelliker nodded his approval.
“What will you do if you find him, Capitano?” Father Matteo asked hesitatingly.
Koelliker snorted. “No need to worry about that, Father,” he said. “I’m sure he’s long gone by now. And equally sure that he’s not even Carlo Campinelli anymore. If this man is who I suspect, he had a disguise ready. You could walk past him now and not know it was the same man.”
“I see,” Father Matteo said.
They stood there in silence, side by side, for what seemed a very long time. Then abruptly, Captain Koelliker spun on his heel and headed out.
“Capitano!” Father Matteo called after him. Koelliker paused and looked back. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to finish my sandwich,” Koelliker said. And he marched out.
Father Matt
eo watched him go but made no move to leave himself. He was completely at a loss for where he should go, or what he should do. He scarcely even knew what to think. As hard as it had been to accept the notion that Campinelli was a thief, he had accepted it. In the face of Koelliker’s evidence—and now the note that was essentially a confession—he had to admit that it was true.
But now Campinelli was gone—and apparently without taking anything. And he claimed that he had actually restored the fresco—you will be very surprised when you see what I’ve done! he had written. So he had come to steal the Urbino Bible, pretending to restore the fresco—and now he had left—without the Bible, but after really restoring the fresco?
Father Matteo could only wonder what it all meant.
Still, life went on. He had duties to attend to. And after all, no real harm had been done, had it? So he must put the whole thing out of his mind and carry on.
So be it, Father Matteo thought. He took a deep breath and straightened up, and headed out, with a brief stop to look once more at the Urbino Bible. It was still there. Of course it was. Perhaps the security measures had persuaded the thief to leave without it. It had been very well guarded, as it was even now. And with a friendly nod at the burly guard with the red beard, Father Matteo left the library.
* * *
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