The Raven (The Florentine 1)
“He’s going to suspend me, isn’t he?”
Patrick squeezed her arm again. “I don’t know. But there has to be a reasonable explanation for what happened. We’ll find out, I promise.”
She gave him a wan smile before walking the few steps to Dottor Vitali’s office.
She knocked twice and waited.
The door was opened by a tall, handsome man with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. He was dressed in a white shirt and jeans, his feet clad in brown leather shoes.
His posture was anything but casual.
“Yes?” His expression, like his tone, was decidedly unfriendly.
“Good morning. Dottor Vitali asked to see me,” Raven replied in polite Italian.
The man opened the door wider, and Raven saw beyond him that Vitali was seated behind his desk, talking to a young woman who was holding a baby on her lap.
“What do you mean there aren’t any fucking fingerprints?” The man, who Raven surmised was Professor Emerson, brushed past her to stand in front of the desk.
“Gabriel.” The woman, who Raven assumed was his wife, glanced from the professor to the child in her arms.
“I’m sorry, darling.” Professor Emerson sounded contrite. He placed a hand on the baby’s head. “I meant fracking fingerprints.”
“That’s not really an improvement.” Mrs. Emerson gave him a half smile.
The child started fussing and tugging at her mother’s dress. She balled up a chubby fist and began chewing on it, but not before making a noise that sounded to Raven like a squawk.
“I think she’s hungry.” Mrs. Emerson gave an apologetic look to their host.
“Vitali, can we have a quiet room somewhere so Julianne can feed Clare?” Professor Emerson placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“Of course.” Vitali smiled, motioning to Raven to come forward. “And you are . . . ?”
Raven paused, embarrassed. “Raven Wood, dottore.”
Dottor Vitali took in her appearance with a look of incredulity.
Raven fidgeted.
Vitali glanced at his guests, appearing to recover from his shock.
“Miss Wood.” He began speaking English. “Bring Mrs. Emerson to the conference room. Then return here. I’d like to speak to you.”
“Of course.” Raven forced a smile, for the director’s tone and posture were noticeably cold.
“Thank you.” Mrs. Emerson stood, holding the baby in one hand and attempting to lift a purse and a large Coach messenger bag with the other.
Raven gestured to the hallway. “This way, please.”
The professor lifted the purse and bag, placing them over his wife’s shoulder, before stroking the baby’s head and kissing her.
Raven looked away as he embraced his wife, before stepping aside to let her pass.
“Come back when you’re ready, darling.” The professor smiled.
Mrs. Emerson nodded before addressing Raven in English. “Thank you. I tried to give Clare her breakfast at the hotel but she wouldn’t eat. I’m afraid we’re all jet-lagged.”
“No problem. The conference room is private and it’s just down the hall.” Raven gestured to their right as they exited the office, responding in English.
Mrs. Emerson was dressed in a simple black shirtdress, with black espadrilles that tied in wide bands around her ankles and shapely lower legs. She had shoulder-length brown hair, highlighted with gold, and big brown eyes. She was petite and young looking, with a very gentle way about her.
Next to her, Raven felt enormous and dowdy, as she always felt when standing next to a thin and beautiful person. (She was forgetting that she’d recently undergone a tremendous physical transformation.)
“Can I carry your bags, Mrs. Emerson?”
She laughed. “Call me Julia. We have to be the same age.”
“I’m almost thirty,” Raven blurted out.
“I’ll be thirty in a couple of years. So please call me Julia. If you’d carry the diaper bag, I’d be grateful.”
She held Clare with one hand while Raven pulled the bag from her shoulder.
Raven was unprepared for the weight and nearly dropped it, but managed to keep it from hitting the floor at the last moment.
“I’m sorry. I should have warned you.” Julia made a move to help her, but Raven waved her off and lifted the item with both hands.
“Gabriel wants to be prepared for any emergency and so he stuffs things into it when I’m not looking. I need a stroller for Clare and a stroller for the diaper bag.” She laughed. “Actually, I need a stroller for myself. Traveling with a baby is more challenging than I thought.”
“Are you staying nearby?”
“Yes, at the Gallery Hotel Art.” Julia’s expression brightened. “We’re here for a week, then we’re going to Umbria. Clare’s godmother is with us.”
“That’s nice.” Raven didn’t really know what to say.
“But we’re really upset about the robbery,” Julia confided, holding Clare close to her body. “The illustrations are more than just artwork to us. They have sentimental value. When Dottor Vitali called to say they’d been stolen . . .”
Julia nuzzled her daughter, as if she were trying to hide her face.
“I’m so sorry,” Raven whispered.
“Gabriel is hoping they’ll be recovered, but I’m not sure how likely that is. I guess all we can do is pray.
“It’s possible the illustrations were stolen once before and that’s how they came to belong to the family who sold them to my husband.” Julia sighed. “I guess we’ll never know.”
Raven was curious about her remark, since it was a possibility that had not been disclosed in Dottor Vitali’s leaflet. She elected not to press the point.
“The police are doing all they can. I hope they find them.”
“I hope so, too. You sound American.” Julia looked at her with interest.
“I’m from New Hampshire. I lived in Florida so long I lost my accent.”
“I’m from Pennsylvania, but we live in Cambridge.” Julia grinned. “I don’t think I’ll ever sound as if I’m from Boston. What part of the gallery do you work in?”
“Restoration and conservation. I’m part of the team working on the Birth of Venus.”
Julia’s brown eyes lit up. “That’s one of my favorite paintings. I don’t suppose you let guests view the restoration? I promise not to get in the way.”
“I’m sure Dottor Vitali can arrange something. I’d be happy to show you what we’re doing but Professor Urbano is the one in charge. He worked on the restoration of Primavera under Umberto Baldini.”
“That’s another of my favorites. I’ve always loved Botticelli.” Julia’s tone was wistful. “That’s why we wanted to lend the illustrations. We wanted other people to enjoy them.”
Raven stopped, turning to face her. “Let me tell you how happy I was to be able to see them. I visited them almost every day. We were all so glad when you and your husband decided to extend the exhibit beyond a few months.”
“Thank you.” Julia’s smile faded. “I can’t help but think this is my fault. I persuaded Gabriel to let the gallery keep the illustrations while we were on leave with Clare. Now they’re gone.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“So am I.”
Raven regarded her curiously.
“You and Professor Emerson are both on leave? Are you a professor as well?”
“I’m a professor in training. I’m in the middle of a Ph.D. on Dante.”
“Where are you studying?”
Julia smiled. “Harvard. I’m still finishing coursework.”
“Professor Emerson is a Dante specialist, isn’t that right?”
“Yes. Clare’s godmother is a retired Dante specialist as well. Apparently, it takes three Dante specialists to look after one baby.”
Raven laughed, opening the door to the conference room. She gestured for Julia to enter before her, and she changed the sign on the door to indicate
that a meeting was in progress.