The Raven (The Florentine 1)

“Yes. We’re just getting to know one another.”

“I thought you were going out with Bruno.”

“He had to cancel.” She twisted her hands in her lap.

Patrick’s expression shifted. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” she said weakly.

“But you’ve met someone else and that’s good. What does he do?”

“Uh, he deals in—rare vintages.”

Patrick smiled. “Well, if he ever has any extra, send a bottle over to me. Gina loves that stuff and it isn’t exactly cheap.”

Raven nodded, trying very hard not to squirm.

Patrick moved to sit on the edge of her desk. “Unfortunately I have some bad news for you.”

“What?”

“The head of security stopped me on my way into work this morning.”

Raven clenched the top of her cane tightly. “Why?”

“He saw the tape of you handing me the flash drive in the archives.”

“Oh, no. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Luckily I had a similar flash drive in my pocket that was filled with files I’d been transferring for the project I’m working on. I showed it to him and said you’d been helping me.

“He checked with the archivist, who confirmed I had clearance to copy the files, and that was the end of it. The archivist was puzzled when your name came up, but I covered for you.”

“Thank you.” Raven leaned back in her chair. “I’m really sorry about that. I owe you one. Again.”

“It’s fine. Did you ever find out anything else from those files?”

“I haven’t had a chance to work on it. I know that Botticelli changed Mercury’s hair, along with some other changes that are well documented. But this weekend I was a little busy.”

Patrick smiled. “Busy with your vintage collector?”

She looked away. “Maybe.”

“Good. I’m glad you can get out and have some fun. I saved the good news for last. Professor Urbano was in here a few minutes ago. He wants you to report to the restoration lab. I’m supposed to notify the archivist that you’re no longer working for her.”

“Really?” Raven almost clapped her hands. “Can I go now?”

“He said to report in as soon as you arrived.”

“Thank you.” She flashed him a wide smile and he grinned, hopping off the desk.

She zipped her knapsack closed and carefully stood, leaning on her cane. She crossed over to the wardrobe that sat at the end of the room and withdrew her lab coat, folding it carefully over her arm.

Patrick followed.

“I ran into Ispettor Batelli after I left the security office,” he announced, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“What did he say?”

“He said that the Interpol agent assigned to work with him disappeared last week.”

Raven stopped. “When?”

“The night you had dinner with Gina and me.”

“Agent Savola,” she whispered.

“That’s right. That was his name.”

Shakily, she leaned against the wardrobe door.

She had no idea that it was Agent Savola who’d popped out of the shadows the night the feral appeared. That he was the man who’d given his life trying to save her.

Her stomach heaved.

“Are you okay?” Patrick peered at her face.

“I think so. Why did the inspector tell you that?”

“I have no idea. I saw him talking to Dottor Vitali a few minutes ago. Neither of them looked happy.”

Patrick jerked his chin at her wrist. “For the love of God, hide that. You don’t want to be conspicuous with the inspector walking around.”

Raven pulled her cardigan over the bracelet, hiding it.

“Thanks, Patrick. I’ll be careful.”

Slowly but surely, she made her way across the room and down the hall to the restoration lab, wondering what Batelli and Vitali had been talking about.

Just as she was about to put her hand on the door, she stopped.

Probably there were witnesses who’d seen her, along with Agent Savola and the feral.

Raven didn’t know what to do with the realization. It was bad enough having captured Batelli’s interest in connection with the theft of the illustrations; she didn’t want his attention in connection with Savola’s murder.

And there was also the matter of Bruno’s attack, which William said he had handled. But had he?

She contemplated telephoning Ambrogio with a message for William, but decided against it. She was going to be late for work and didn’t want to upset Professor Urbano.

William was probably resting somewhere, anyway, out of the sunlight.

Raven spent the morning in Botticelli’s world, painstakingly applying a coat of varnish to the Birth of Venus.

Professor Urbano had decided that Anja, her replacement, had not progressed at an acceptable pace. There was also some question about the quality of her work. Urbano simply replaced her, assigning her to another project.

Raven was sympathetic with Anja’s plight and moderated her joy at being able to return to the lab. But it was with undisguised delight that she sat on a high stool, slowly and carefully restoring one of the greatest works of art in the world.

“Dottoressa Wood.”

Raven heard the voice but dimly. She was working on the figure of Zephyr, marveling at the way his face differed from the Zephyr who appeared in William’s version of Primavera.

She heard footsteps and the slight clearing of a throat.

She turned to her left and saw Professor Urbano standing there. He was smiling.

“Can I look?” He gestured to the patch she’d been working on.

“Of course.” Raven put her supplies in order and obligingly climbed down. She pointed out what she’d accomplished and where she’d left off.

She removed her glasses and waited nervously for him to pass judgment.

He took her place and used a series of magnifying glasses and other instruments to check her progress. When he descended from the stool, he was smiling.

“Very fine work. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“I think now is a good time for lunch.”

She looked around, noticing that their colleagues had already left.

“Before I go, Professor Urbano, could I ask you a few questions?”

“Certo.” He gestured to a nearby set of chairs and they sat down.

“When you worked on the restoration of Primavera, did you ever notice anything about Mercury’s hair?”