The Case of the Missing Botticelli, page 11
“Sure, and I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.”
Chapter Nineteen
Hadley could hardly keep her eyes open. She was walking across the park toward the leather shop when a large dog jumped on her and knocked her down.
“What?” she said groggily until she recognized Bocelli.
“Oh, Bocelli.” She sighed. “I’ve missed you.” Bocelli licked her face and wouldn’t let her move when she tried to get up.
“What are you doing off your leash? Where’s your—”
Then she saw Luca in his uniform looming over her. He offered her a hand up. When his hand touched hers, she inhaled, and her heart skipped a beat.
“You look a little dizzy. Let’s sit down on the bench there.” As he led her over, Bocelli trotted faithfully behind.
She looked at Luca suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”
“Bocelli and I were just out for a walk.”
“And you just happened to pick this park at this particular time? And you’re wearing your uniform?”
“I just got off my shift and, well, Gerda might have told me you would be walking through.”
So Gerda was in on it. And the leather store was just a ruse. Of course.
Luca inched toward her on the bench, and her insides heated up. If he got any closer, she was going to faint on the spot. She wanted to jump into his arms and kiss him right here in this park, but she resisted the urge.
“I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Luca Ferrari, and this is my dog Bocelli.”
Hadley laughed.
“Can we start over, Cara?” Luca asked softly. “I have missed you.”
“What about Isabella?”
“I’ve checked up on her by telephone to make sure she’s okay, but I haven’t seen her since Venice. Matteo is behind bars. She’s making good progress. What about Charles?”
“He left the day I saw you in my office. He’s already engaged to someone else.”
“Good to know.”
Bocelli was sitting at heel in front of her, breathing heavily and slobbering.
“What is this?” Luca asked. “There seems to be a box tied around Bocelli’s neck.”
Hadley petted Bocelli and examined his neck. There was indeed a box with a bow, tied with a ribbon around the dog’s neck.
“Let’s have a look,” Luca said, his voice low and throaty.
Luca untied the ribbon and handed Hadley the box.
“I think this is meant for you,” he said. His hand slipped, and he almost dropped the box. He rubbed his palm through his hair and held out the gift.
“For me?”
“Yes, it’s from Bocelli and me.”
She nervously unwrapped the box and opened it.
“It’s a ring!” she exclaimed, trying to still her racing heart.
Luca got down on bended knee next to Bocelli and looked adoringly into Hadley’s eyes. The park fell away, and she could see only him.
“Bocelli and I would like to marry you.”
Bocelli barked and then howled.
Hadley laughed.
“We practiced that,” Luca said with a serious face. “We’ve also been practicing “Con Te Partirò.”
“Time to Say Goodbye?”
“Yes, it was a very melancholy song, and it made us miss you more.”
“Bocelli likes classical pop?”
“Of course. He’s a very smart dog.”
The problem with Luca and his dog were that they were so damn irresistible.
He took the ring out of the box and slipped it onto her finger. It was an exquisite, square-cut emerald flanked by two sizeable diamonds.
“Luca, this ring is gorgeous. But how can you afford—”
“Hush,” he said, touching his warm fingers to her lips and began stringing together a torrent of tender words in Italian. Loving words. Healing words.
“It’s a family heirloom, Cara,” he whispered. “I want you to have it. You are my family. You are my heart.”
For a moment she didn’t have the words. A huge ache rose inside her, an ache that had been building since she and Luca parted, and tears spilled out and streamed down her face.
She took Luca’s darling face in her hands and kissed him.
“Is that a yes?” he asked.
Hadley smiled and looked into her beloved’s face.
“You know what they say—love the dog, love the man,” Hadley answered.
“Do you?” he asked plaintively. “Love me?”
“With all my heart.”
Luca rose, pulled her up from the bench, enfolded her in his arms, and began kissing her. Bocelli barked, and a crowd that had gathered around them cheered.
She was literally shaking, and so was Luca. It felt so good, so right, to be back in his arms.
“I need to have you alone,” Luca said urgently.
“I happen to know an apartment nearby, with a great view of the Arno.” She smiled.
“Lead the way!” He laughed, fastening Bocelli’s leash on his collar and petting him, Bocelli’s tail wagging furiously.
“Good job, boy. We got the girl.” Luca took hold of Hadley’s hand and held on like he never wanted to let go. “Mamma has been cooking all day. We’re going to my parents’ house tonight to celebrate.”
“Were you so sure I would say yes?”
“I hoped.”
“I thought your mother wanted you to marry a nice Italian girl.”
“She did.”
If Hadley knew anything, she knew it was never a good idea to stand between an Italian man and his mamma.
“My mamma has old-fashioned ideas. With Mamma, everything is always black or white. There are never any gray shades.”
“I wonder who you take after,” Hadley said under her breath.
“I, on the other hand, am very flexible.”
Hadley raised her brows. “I could pretend I’m Italian.”
Luca laughed. “Cara, you speak Italian with a Southern accent.”
“What if they don’t like me?’
“They will love you because I love you. How could they not? And I’ve already booked the Duomo. So your parents and family can come over and witness our wedding.” Hadley was a little nervous about telling her mother, but her mind was made up. She loved Luca and she was going to marry him, no matter what.
“You were very sure of me.”
“I was sure I couldn’t live without you.”
Chapter Twenty
The phone wouldn’t stop ringing. The Massimo Domingo Art Detective Agency was suddenly thrust into the spotlight. Newspaper reporters and broadcasters called to get the details about the lost masterpiece. Museum directors from around the world called to congratulate Massimo and to set up luncheon meetings and phone calls with the Signore. An array of new consultation cases flowed into the agency. They were going to have to staff up soon. It was much more than she and Gerda could handle. Massimo was pulling his weight now. Gone were the Friday afternoon trysts with his mistress. His wife was keeping a tight rein on him. She was happy to continue investing in what was now a going concern.
Signore Domingo’s publisher called to tell Massimo his Pocket Guide had sold out and was on the second printing. And they contracted him for a second book. She had never seen the Signore so happy.
Ingrid could have made millions selling Amore, but she chose to loan it for an indefinite period to the Uffizi Gallery, where it would be displayed along with Botticelli’s other two masterpieces. Amore had its own room around the corner from Primavera and Birth of Venus, with a special plaque in tribute to the Adelman family and a display featuring the family’s history, complete with the old photos Ingrid provided.
Ingrid had consulted Hadley after she’d received dozens of lucrative offers from private parties, corporations, auction houses, and museums. Hadley made her feelings known. The world had gone for centuries without seeing Amore. Had Ingrid considered what joy and inspiration she could bring to museum visitors from around the world? She could maintain legal ownership of the work, and Uffizi donors had immediately raised funds to offer Ingrid for the loan of the painting and to fund a special exhibit of the paintings discovered in the villa while their rightful owners were being tracked down. The museum was eternally grateful to Hadley for her role in making this happen.
Ingrid decided to stay in Italy during the various trials and for the duration of the Uffizi exhibit of her family’s paintings. She was finally awarded the deed to the villa, and she asked Isabella to move in with her while she was in Italy. When she left to return to her life in America, she granted Isabella permission to stay there for as long as she liked—forever, if she chose. She would help Isabella deal with Matteo whenever he was released from custody.
Hadley hung up the phone, shock still registered on her face.
“What happened?” Gerda asked, coming over to Hadley’s desk.
“That was the director of the Uffizi. He offered me a job as assistant curator. My first assignment would be to curate the ‘Lost Masterpieces’ exhibit.”
“That’s wonderful. What did you tell him?”
“I told him I’d have to think it over.”
“What’s there to think about?” Gerda exclaimed. “That’s your dream job.”
“I still have a lot to learn here.”
“Hadley, you tracked down that lost masterpiece and the other looted paintings. Not Massimo. And you deserve the credit.”
“Maybe, but—”
“Maybe nothing. You march into Massimo’s office and demand a raise if you plan to stay or tell him you’re taking another job. The boss is in a good mood. He just gave me a big raise and a promotion.”
“Well deserved, Gerda.”
“Thank you.”
Hadley stood in front of Gerda’s desk so she couldn’t get away.
“Now tell me what’s wrong. Why do you keep taking off to go to the doctor?”
Gerda blushed.
“I wasn’t really at the doctor’s. I was with a doctor. I met him on that new Italian dating website.”
“Really. Tell me.”
“Well, you know I never thought I would find anyone after my Fritz passed. Especially at my age. There was never going to be another man for me. But then I met this doctor online. He lost his wife, and he’s as lonely as I am. He’s very sweet and considerate.”
“You’d better be careful. There are some real weirdos out there.”
“I had Massimo investigate him,” Gerda said. “He passed with flying colors.”
“Oh, Gerda, I’m so happy for you.” Hadley noticed there was a sparkle in Gerda’s eyes and a new spring in her step.
“Thank you. Now it’s your turn for something good to happen.”
Hadley knew Gerda was right, but she’d been working at the agency only six months. Who was she to demand anything? She’d been lucky to answer the phone when Ingrid called, but was she just in the right place at the right time, or was she instrumental in solving the case? And she wasn’t proud of the way she had handled things—lying to Massimo from the very beginning.
Rising from her chair in the outer office, she gathered her courage and walked into Massimo’s office. His door was open, and his legs were propped on his desk in a leisurely pose. In one hand was a glass of wine, in his other hand a pastry she’d brought to him this morning from the café around the corner.
“Signore Domingo—Massimo. I’d like to talk to you about something.”
“Please, have a seat.” Massimo welcomed her into his office. “I was just coming to talk to you. What’s on your mind?”
“I just got a phone call from the director of the Uffizi Gallery, and they offered me the job of assistant curator. They’re creating a new position for me. They want me to curate the ‘Lost Masterpieces’ exhibit.”
Massimo rose from his desk, threw up his hands, and shouted, “Impossible! I won’t allow it.”
“It was an impressive offer.”
“I’ll match their salary,” Massimo said, “and raise it.”
“Signore, that’s very generous.”
“You deserve it. You singlehandedly breathed life into a dying agency. I feel like a new man. I feel ten years younger.”
“I was only following the guidelines in your Pocket Guide.”
“Very diplomatic of you to say, but your contribution was invaluable. And now I have more work than I can handle.”
Hadley took a deep breath while weighing her options. On the one hand was her dream job at the Uffizi, at a significant raise in pay. On the other hand, Signore Domingo needed her. The cases pouring in were fascinating—tracking down paintings that had been missing for decades. Retrieving and returning personal property to deserving clients. Hot on the trail of missing masterpieces. An exciting prospect.
“Will the job involve running your errands?” Hadley ventured.
“That will not be a part of your new job description,” Massimo replied confidently. “We’re hiring a new employee who will be running your errands. You will be too busy with your additional responsibilities.”
Massimo was right. Untangling the provenance of the cache of stolen art they had discovered in the Venetian villa would take larger firms than theirs a lifetime.
“But curating such a prestigious exhibit would be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” she pointed out.
“Of course, I will agree to loan you to the Uffizi for the duration of the exhibit. It will shine the light on our agency.”
“Our agency?”
“Yes,” said the Signore. “I’m prepared to give you a hefty raise, your own office, and your name on the letterhead.”
Hadley hesitated. “Do we even have letterhead?”
“No, but we will. My wife insists. I owe a lot to that woman.”
Massimo sat up straight in his chair and affected a more serious tone. “I took her for granted,” he admitted. “I took you for granted. That will never happen again. I did things I wasn’t proud of because it boosted my ego, made me feel more of a man. She wants me to cut back on the pasta, which I will do after I finish this delectable pastry you brought me.”
Hadley doubted Massimo would make good on that particular promise, but she had high hopes about his fidelity.
“I’ve disappointed her for far too long. If she wants letterhead, she’ll get letterhead. I gave her carte blanche in redecorating. She has big plans for your office.”
It didn’t take Hadley long to come to a decision.
“Well, I can hardly refuse, then. I’ll stay.”
“Wonderful.” Massimo poured Hadley a glass of lightly sparkling sweet white wine, her favorite. “My wife sent this bottle of Moscato to help us celebrate. She’s proud of what we’ve accomplished.”
“Was she so sure I’d accept your offer?”
“Don’t underestimate my wife. She’s a very smart woman.”
“I hope you’ll remember that.”
Massimo placed a decorative bag on his desk with Hadley’s name on the gift tag. “Here’s another bottle for you and young Luca.”
“Thank you.” Hadley drained her glass and picked up the gift bag.
“If it’s okay with you, I’ll be leaving early to celebrate in private with Luca. Isn’t that Rule Number Ten of your Pocket Guide? Savor Your Successes?”
“Indeed. Meanwhile, Gerda and I will prioritize our caseload.”
“I’ll be in bright and early Monday morning to start making progress on our new projects.”
“Get plenty of rest,” Massimo added.
Hadley smiled and thought of the ways she and Luca would celebrate. Somehow, she didn’t think she would be getting much sleep in the next few days.
Part Two
The Case of the Vanishing Vermeer
“Art evokes the mystery without which the world would not exist.”
~René Magritte
“The Art of Vermeer must have been there on the morning of creation.”
~Frederick Sommer
Chapter Twenty-One
Rule Number One: Think Twice before Drawing Conclusions. If something feels or appears right to you, trust your instincts. Don’t second-guess yourself. Your first impressionisms (ha-ha) are usually on target.
~Massimo Domingo’s Pocket Guide to Stolen Art Recovery—Volume 2
Hadley Evans swung her shapely, recently shaved legs up on her new mahogany desk, trying it on for size. In fact, the desk was supersized, courtesy of Signora Francesca Domingo, Massimo Domingo’s long-suffering wife. Massimo had given Francesca carte blanche to redecorate the suite of offices, and she had gone to town, even out of town, to purchase everything she needed—from antique furniture and designer window treatments to handmade Italian floor tiles.
Signora Domingo had taken complete control of her husband’s life at work and at home. She’d even signed Massimo up for a men’s book club to keep him occupied in what little spare time he now had. Hadley and Gerda, Massimo’s secretary and office manager, had discussed Massimo’s book club just this morning.
“What kind of books do they read?” Hadley wondered.
“They’re currently reading A Man Called Ove.”
“Does every book have to have ‘Man’ in the title?”
“I don’t think so,” said Gerda. “They read mostly books about sports.”
“That figures.”
“She doesn’t care what they read as long as it keeps him out of trouble.”
“Do you think she knew about Massimo’s string of mistresses?”
“I’m sure she did,” asserted Gerda. “Everybody knew about them. But she seems to have forgiven him, and now he’s too busy to cheat.”
“Keeping him occupied seems to have cured his infidelity,” agreed Hadley. “Talking about cures, how’s the doctor, by the way?”
Since Gerda had started dating her internist, happiness shone brightly in her eyes and was reflected in the new spring in her step. After a long season without companionship, unflappable Gerda had finally been bitten by the love bug.
“He’s fine. How about Officer Sexy?”
