“I do. I really do. Think of it as your night-time’s entertainment. Ring round every hotel in Rome if need be. The sooner you find her, the better.”
“Who is she?”’
“An old friend. And a very clever woman. You’ll like her.”
“Ah, yes. Mary Verney,” Bottando said the next morning. “The English country lady. Why are you so interested in her? All she did was provide evidence against that man Forster last year. So you told me. Or was there more to it?”’
“We got back eighteen pictures, thanks to her,” Flavia said. She didn’t like this bit. “And because of that I was happy to end the enquiry. Getting things back is our main job, after all. But once all the reports were written and the whole affair finished I became convinced she was responsible for most of the thefts in the first place.”
“And you never mentioned this?”’ Bottando said with a suggestion of slight surprise around the left eyebrow. She avoided looking too embarrassed.
“I couldn’t pin anything on her, and if I’d tried earlier we would never have recovered the pictures. It was a trade-off and, in the circumstances, a reasonable one.”
Bottando nodded. It was, after all, exactly what he would have done himself. He couldn’t complain too much.
“But she’s on the loose? A bit unwise, that, don’t you think?”’
“Unexpected. She’s not so young any more, and I was pretty sure she’d retired. She’s no spring chicken, you know. And hardly needs the money.”
Bottando nodded. For some reason Flavia got the idea he was only half listening.
“But here she is,” he observed. “You want to bring her in?”’
Flavia shook her head. “No. It may be a completely innocent visit, and it would be a waste of time. I don’t want to start anything official unless we have to explain our interest. But I don’t like her being in Rome. I thought it would be a good idea to let her know that we are aware she’s here. I’ll have her for a drink. It would accomplish the same thing. She’s staying in the Borgognoni hotel. With your permission, I’ll ring her up this morning. And put someone on to watch her.”
Bottando came out of his reverie long enough to frown with disapproval. “We can’t afford that. Don’t have the people. Besides, this monastery business seems a higher priority. If either of them is.”
“Well …”
“No. You can have Giulia. Time she got out of the office, and we can put the cost down to the ministry’s training budget. A bit of practice for her. But that’s all. Get her to stand outside San Giovanni all day …”
“She’s already there.”
Bottando peered at her. “Oh,” he said. “Good. You can have her follow this Verney woman afterwards, for a bit of variety, if you like. Couple of days of that and she’ll begin to realize what policing is really all about. But don’t use anyone else.”
He was right, she knew that; they couldn’t spare two people. Even sending Giulia out would mean masses of extra paperwork for everyone else. But the very presence of Mary Verney in Rome rattled her. She nodded, nonetheless.
Bottando grunted. “Good. Now, is there anything else? Thank you,” he said to his secretary as she slid into the room and deposited a vast file on his desk. He transferred it immediately to a drawer, which he closed with a satisfying slam. “Because if not, I’m going for a coffee.”
She stopped and looked carefully at him. “You all right?”’ she asked. “You don’t seem your normal self at all this morning. Did they give you food poisoning or something yesterday?”’
He grimaced, and hesitated, and then gave into the temptation. “Come back in and sit down. I need to tell you something,” he said with a sigh.
“Sounds bad,” she said as she settled back on the armchair.
“Maybe, maybe not. I haven’t figured it out yet. I’m being promoted. I think.”
Flavia blinked and looked at him as she tried to think of the right thing to say. “You sound uncertain. These things are normally clear. Am I meant to congratulate or commiserate?”’
“I don’t know. But basically I was given the option of being promoted and taking over some useless new department which seems to have been set up solely to soak up more money from the European taxpayer, or being booted out. With all the consequences for pay and pension that entails. I’ve been making some phone calls and I don’t as yet see any way out.”
She leant back in her chair and bit her thumbnail as she thought this one through.
“But you stay here?”’
He nodded. “Nominally. That brings me to you.”
“Oh, yes?”’ she said cautiously.
“Essentially, you have two choices. Stay here and take over the day-to-day running of the department, where you will have to spend much more time in administration. Or help me set up this new Euro-nonsense. Where you would have to be junior to some Englishman or Dutchman or something and still have to spend much more time in administration. The second option will be exceptionally well paid, of course. Riches beyond the dreams of avarice. Tax free, as well. And more regular hours.”
“Which do you recommend?”’
He shrugged. “I hope I have your services either way. Apart from that, you’ll have to make up your own mind on the matter.”
“When do I have to make up my mind?”’
He made an expansive, all-the-time-in-the-world gesture. “End of the week? I hate to rush you, but I have to lay my plans. You can get some practice in this week. I’m going to be busy writing memos. Consider yourself on your own. And the eyes of the ministry are on us at the moment. If you could fend off all raids on the national gallery and the Presidential art collection until this is sorted out, I’d be grateful. And it would be best if raids we’ve been told about in advance didn’t happen.”
“Looks bad, you think?”’
“Not ideal. Not ideal.”
Dan Menzies was a painstaking, methodical worker, labouring in a fashion which was totally at odds with both his bulk and his reputation. Despite the flamboyant gestures and the frequent use in his speech of dramatic metaphors—always talking about expunging this or that part in his campaigns of restoration—when engaged on a job he went slowly and extraordinarily carefully. Normally, of course, he commanded small armies of people, and it was typical of him that he talked in military terms while his more subtle colleagues headed teams. But that was for large projects, with lots of money. Then he would behave like an artistic General Patton, rushing from one place to another, shouting encouragement and advice and orders. But in this church he was on his own. He found it all strangely restful; he was restoring, he felt, more than the pictures. It was many a year now since he had worked alone, just him and the paint, trying to feel his way with his scalpel and his chemicals back to an instinctive idea of what the artist had in mind. And as he crouched there, oblivious of the hours passing by, and not even feeling the strain as his back muscles began to protest about the unfair treatment they were receiving, he realized that he was entirely happy. He must, he decided when the light had become so bad that he could work no longer, do this more often. Once a year, he thought as he stretched and washed the grime off his hands, he should do a painting on his own, with no one around. Well, maybe once every two.
Any of his colleagues in the restoring business, had they known about this tranquil, introspective mood would probably have been stunned into silence, so little did it fit his reputation or normal means of behaving. Menzies was known as something of a showman, never missing an opportunity to thrust himself into the limelight, and had earned plaudits and criticism in equal measure through the dramatic, and some said vainglorious, way in which he went about bringing pictures back to life. This he knew and accepted; it was an inevitable part of a competitive business, as far as he could see. For his own part, he thought he did his best, however much he might dress it up dramatically to please the audience. He also wanted very much to be liked, for he considered himself a likeable fellow, and never understood why his colleagues and rivals were so unfair. Dissimulation was simply an unknown skill, that was all. He had opinions, lots of opinions, and when someone asked him, he could never resist the opportunity of giving full chapter and verse. Was it his fault some of his rivals were fools?
And that was why he was here. He did not believe the best man won without working for it. There was a big project dangling there, waiting to be plucked, and he was determined to get it. If it meant spending six months in
