DEATH AND RESTORATION
A Jonathan Argyll Mystery
by Iain Pears
From the author of the internationally best-selling literary sensation An Instance of the
The monastery of San Giovanni on Rome’s Aventine Hill has no real treasures, except for one huge and disturbing painting, dubiously attributed to Caravaggio, of the breaking of Saint Catherine on the wheel. It’s not a subject likely to appeal to many buyers of stolen art. But a Caravaggio is a Caravaggio—or is it?
Following a recent burglary at the monastery’s chapel, there’s little left to steal, so Flavia di Stefano of Rome’s Art Theft Squad is particularly puzzled when she receives a tip that thieves plan to raid the building. What is there, except perhaps the Caravaggio, that professionals could covet? Even stranger is the sudden arrival in Italy of Mary Verney, an Englishwoman and thief whom Flavia and her art-expert fiance, Jonathan Argyll, have encountered before. She may be there as a tourist, but it’s unlikely. Is Mary after personal riches, or is her trip, and her possible involvement in a theft, inspired by more terrifying circumstances?
Jonathan also wonders about the intentions of Daniel Menzies, the “Rottweiler of Restoration,” who is restoring the supposed Caravaggio in the disused monastery chapel where even the candles in front of a nearby icon of the Virgin and Child, long venerated by the local population for its special protection of those who offered prayers, have been extinguished.
Something strange and threatening is occurring both inside and outside the monastery, and Jonathan and Flavia feel powerless when they fail either to stop a theft or a murder. As the two search for answers through the maze of monastic and police bureaucracy, they gradually reveal a surprise more shocking than even they had imagined.
Rome is ancient and full of secrets, some of which never should be revealed, and Iain Pears is at the peak of his powers in this exquisitely rendered crime novel in which the Roman setting plays as memorable a role as any of the players.
Iain Pears is a journalist and art historian who worked for Reuters for several years and spent time at Yale University completing his book The Discovery of Painting, which was published by Yale University Press in 1988. He now lives in Oxford. In addition to writing An Instance of the Fingerpost, he is the author of five previous art-world crime novels: The Raphael Affair, The Titian Committee, The Bernini Bust, The Last Judgement, and Giotto’s Hand.
EXTRAORDINARY PRAISE FOR
IAIN PEARS’S NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING CRIME NOVEL, AN INSTANCE OF THE FINGERPOST
“Successful literary thrillers in the mold of Umberto Eco’s The Name of the Rose are the stuff of publishers’ dreams, and in Pears’s novel they may have found a near-perfect example of the genre.”—The New York Times Book Review
“Pears’s assured command of period history, language, lore, and attitudes is formidable.”—The Wall Street Journal
“An erudite and entertaining tour de force.”-People
“Ingenious, thoroughly satisfying, hard to put down—and fairly audacious. What mystery novel treats immaculate conception and resurrection as credible, if incidental, plot points? An Instance of the Fingerpost is polished entertainment.” —The Philadelphia Inquirer
AND FOR THE JONATHAN ARGYLL SERIES
“Pears masterfully juggles his plot elements … best of all is the moral ambiguity at the heart of the story. As in Michael Dibdin’s Aurelio Zen series, good and evil are inextricably blended, like the ingredients in a good risotto.” —Booklist
“Mr. Pears does some lovely brushwork on the minor characters who contribute to the subtle tones of this elegant mystery … but the real work of art here is the plot, a piece of structural engineering any artist would envy.” —The New York Times Book Review
“Deliciously literate series.”-Kirkus Reviews
“Art history, literary language, and wry humor realize another auspicious combination.”-Library Journal
“Well paced, witty, and full of details that speak to his training as an art historian.” —The San Diego Union- Tribune
Copyright 1996 by Iain Pears
ALSO BY IAIN PEARS
Giotto’s Hand
The Last Judgement
The Bernini Bust
The Titian Committee
The Raphael Affair
DEATH AND RESTORATION
Business meetings are more or less the same all over the world, and have been since the beginning of time. There is the man in charge; the man supposedly in charge; the man wanting to be in charge; their minions, their enemies and those waverers who float gently downstream, hoping things won’t get too choppy. And there is always a dispute, which serves the purpose of making half-felt antagonisms real. Sometimes these are of importance and justify the energy expended on them. But not often.
So it was one afternoon in September in a large but utilitarian room in a shambling, run-down set of buildings in that section of Rome loosely known as the Aventino. There were twenty people, all men of between thirty-five and seventy-five years old; fourteen items on the agenda, and two factions, each determined to sweep all before them and rout the forces of (on the one hand) dangerous and puerile innovation and (on the other) hidebound traditionalism irrelevant to the needs of the modern world. It was, the chairman thought as he took a deep breath, going to be a long afternoon. He only hoped that the two hours they had just spent praying together for God’s wisdom to infuse their collective decision would stop the imminent debate from getting too acrimonious.
But he doubted it, somehow. Much as he felt himself teetering on the brink of heresy in even considering the idea, he did sometimes wish the Lord could make his wishes just a bit plainer: then his fear might not be realized that he, Father Xavier Munster, thirty-ninth head of the Order of St John the Pietist, might also be the last. His heart sank as he saw the glitter of battle in the eyes of those souls nominally submissive to his total authority. Above all Father Jean, organizing his papers in front of him like so many divisions of tanks, waiting for the moment to advance. Determined to oppose, mindless of the problems he had to face. Although, in the circumstances, that was just as well. “Perhaps,” Father Xavier said with determination to the assembled collection of his order presently in Rome. “Perhaps we might begin?”’
Five hours later, it was at an end, and the shattered brothers staggered out. Ordinarily, there were aperitifs on the terrace after such a meeting; this time only a few people, those who had not become too involved in the unseemly brawling, turned up. The rest went to their cells (such they were called, although they were little different to the sort of rooms students occupy) to meditate, pray, or fume with rage.
“I’m very glad that’s over,” murmured one of the most youthful of the brothers, a tall, handsome man from Cameroon called Paul. It was selfless of him to say it so mildly; he had hoped that his own concern might have been dealt with. But, yet again, his little problem was too far down the list to be discussed.
