Page 15

A ntonio Calvesi met Gabriel at the public entrance of the Vatican Museums at ten the following morning.

Inside, they headed down the corkscrew Bramante Staircase and through a locked doorway, into a half-lit room where four earnest-looking technicians sat staring at a wall of video screens.

The stampede had commenced. On average, more than twenty thousand people visited the museum each day. Only the Louvre was busier.

The man responsible for protecting the priceless treasures of the papacy was a former corporate security specialist named Alessio Tomassini. He extended a hand warily toward Gabriel.

“Welcome back to the Vatican Museums, Signore Allon. It’s been a while.”

“Did you miss me, Alessio?”

“I’ll let you know in a few minutes.” The security chief escorted Gabriel and Calvesi into a side office and sat down behind a desktop computer. “Storage room number four?”

“How did you know?” asked Calvesi.

“I saw you and Signore Allon in there yesterday afternoon.” Tomassini tapped a few keys, and a shot of the room appeared on the screen. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

“You might say that,” remarked Gabriel.

“Is something missing?”

“Misplaced,” interjected Calvesi.

“When was the last time it was removed from storage?”

Calvesi recited a date, and Alessio Tomassini entered it into the computer.

“Approximate time?”

“I believe it was about eleven thirty.”

Tomassini started the playback at eleven, at three times the normal speed. He hit pause at 11:42 a.m., when Antonio Calvesi entered the room, accompanied by a young woman.

“Signorina Radcliff?”

Greeted by silence, Tomassini set the scene in motion with a click of his mouse.

Antonio Calvesi and the promising young art conservator searching for a painting in need of restoration.

Something of little monetary value. Something long forgotten.

The pullout rack labeled 27 had fifteen works from which to choose.

Eight on one side of the wire mesh, seven on the other.

They chose Madonna and Child with John the Baptist , oil on walnut panel, 78 by 56 centimeters, perhaps eighteenth century, perhaps by an imitator of Raphael.

Tomassini clicked pause and looked at Calvesi. “I assume you and Signorina Radcliff transported the painting to the lab?”

“We did.”

“Shall we watch the video?”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“When was it returned to storage?”

Calvesi recited another date, three months later than the first.

“The time?”

“Late afternoon. Five o’clock or so.”

In point of fact, it was closer to half past. This time Calvesi was alone. He returned the newly restored painting to its original place on rack 27 and left.

The chief of security once again paused the recording. “Is that the painting that is now missing?”

“Misplaced,” said Calvesi again.

“Perhaps someone moved it.”

“We searched all four of the storage rooms.”

“Yes, I know. I saw that too.”

Tomassini clicked the play icon and increased the speed to its highest setting.

Storage room 4 was off the beaten path. Days went by without a visitor, sometimes a week or two.

Each time someone entered, they triggered the motion detectors, and the overhead lights flickered to life.

And when they left again, the darkness returned.

One of the visitors arrived at four fifteen on a Friday afternoon and made straight for rack 27.

Alessio Tomassini hit pause . “Signorina Radcliff?”

Calvesi nodded, then checked the date. “It was the final day of her apprenticeship. I suppose she wanted to see the painting one last time.”

Tomassini clicked play , and Penelope Radcliff rolled the rack away from the wall. It held fourteen paintings. Eight on one side of the wire mesh. Six on the other. Madonna and Child with John the Baptist , oil on walnut panel, 78 by 56 centimeters, was gone.

“Pause it,” said Gabriel.

Tomassini clicked the mouse.

“How is it possible that we missed the theft?”

“It isn’t.”

“Play it in reverse.”

Tomassini complied with Gabriel’s request. The same visitors came and went, though this time they were walking backward .

“Pause it again,” said Gabriel. Then he asked, “What was that glitch in the playback?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t notice one.”

“Forward, Alessio. Normal speed.”

Tomassini clicked play . The timestamp read 11:23 p.m. The glitch occurred four minutes later, a wave that moved from the top of the screen to the bottom.

“I see it now,” said Tomassini. “That was the night of the blackout.”

“What blackout?”

“The entire Vatican lost power that night.”

“What about the backup generators?”

“They failed. The night crew was completely in the dark for about fifteen minutes. When the lights came back on, they searched the entire museum from end to end. There was no sign of a break-in, and nothing was missing.”

“How many guards on a typical night shift?”

“Five.”

“Do you have a record of who was working that night?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I need their names, Alessio. Their personnel files as well.”

“I’m sorry, but those files are confidential.”

“Shall we call the Holy Father?”

“No, Signore Allon. That won’t be necessary.”