“It’s fine, sir,” Amacker said. “Completely untouched. We’ve had it in our sight every moment.”
“Then what is it? Why did the alarm go off?”
“Captain, we’re not sure,” Amacker said. “Something triggered the alarm on one of the upper windows.” He pointed to the large arched window at the far end of the room. “We checked it out, sir, and there’s nothing. It might have been a malfunction.”
Koelliker frowned. It was possible for the alarm to misbehave, of course. But it was so rare that he could not recall the last time it had happened. “Send someone onto the roof to check from the outside,” he said. Amacker nodded, and Koelliker began a cautious inspection of the area surrounding the Urbino Bible, and then the rest of the area. Something was wrong, and he didn’t know what it was. But it tugged at his subconscious, and he very carefully examined the entire room.
He was standing beside the case that held the precious book, staring down at it without really seeing it, when a breathless Father Matteo found him. “Capitano!” the priest called. Koelliker looked up, and one glance was more than enough to see that Father Matteo was very upset about something.
“Father?” Koelliker said. “What is it?”
Father Matteo waved a piece of paper frantically. “This!” he said. “This note was on my— I don’t know what to think at all, it can’t be—Here, see for yourself,” he said, and thrust the paper at Koelliker.
Dear Father Matteo, it read.
I regret to inform you that I am not a very good person. And please do not offer to hear my sins; there are far too many, and I am sure that confession would not help.
But it has been such a pleasure chatting with you, I could not leave without a few small words of explanation. And perhaps an apology, for the small and nearly harmless deception.
Very important—it was not ALL deception. I really did a great deal of work on the fresco. I think you will be very surprised when you see what I’ve done! And MOST important—What I told you about leaving the seal in place is true. It is vitally important that you do not remove it for a minimum of three weeks—four would be better! Please, Father, I beg you—do NOT remove the seal!!
Other than that? I am already far away as you read this. As I said, I am not a very good person. But I am very good at what I do. And now it is done.
It was all about the fresco, and it always was.
Ciao, Father.
Very best wishes,
“Carlo Campinelli”
And under that were scrawled two letters: R.W.
Koelliker looked up. “What does this mean, it was all about the fresco?”
“I don’t know,” Father Matteo said. “I haven’t any idea at all, just—”
“But the fresco is completely covered over by this seal?”
“Yes, of course.”
Koelliker looked again at the note, but it still made no sense to him. What could it possibly mean? He thought of how the whole episode had begun, with the two men—Catalan separatists, apparently—damaging the painting and making such odd threats. How could that possibly fit? And then Berzetti dead—all so this man could gain access to the fresco? For what purpose? Something to do with the fresco—The Liberation of St. Peter. It was all about that? How? And what was the real “all” if not stealing the Urbino Bible? And then the letters beneath the fraudulent signature: R.W. Were those the initials of the real person behind this imposture? If so, why would he risk leaving such an important clue to his identity? And what did the letters stand for—or who? It would take solid-steel testicles to do something so brazen. Only an idiot would do so—an idiot or a man so overwhelmingly confident of his abilities that . . .
Time stopped for Captain Koelliker.
Like most in the international law enforcement community—and particularly those involved in security for precious artifacts—Koelliker knew the name of a man who fit that description. And his initials were, in fact, R.W.
Riley Wolfe.
Riley Wolfe would certainly be capable of an attempt on the Urbino Bible. He was known to be an expert at disguise, and at parkour—the alarm on the roof! And Riley Wolfe would not hesitate to tell the world what he had done. Far from it; he would trumpet it to the world. Riley Wolfe stole the Urbino Bible!
Except the Bible was right here in its place, in front of him. So if it truly had been Riley Wolfe, then why, or what—
Captain Koelliker had a wild, stupid, ridiculous thought. It was all about the fresco, the note read. Was it even conceivable—
“Father Matteo,” he said. “Would it be possible to somehow steal a fresco? Perhaps peel it off the wall?”
Father Matteo looked pityingly at Koelliker. “Capitano,” he said. “I beg you, put the thought out of your mind.”