The Raven (The Florentine #1)(85)

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?”

Urbano looked puzzled. “Such as?”

“Such as evidence of changes in color or length.”

Urbano looked off into space for a moment, as if he were regarding the painting in his mind’s eye.

“There was some slight change around the edges of the hair, as I recall, but nothing about the color or the overall length. Why do you ask?”

“I thought I saw something in one of the radiographs that suggested Botticelli changed the hair color.”

Urbano smiled. “Impossible. We went over the radiographs very, very carefully. Everything we found was documented and published.”

“Oh.” Raven nodded. “I have a couple of other questions, if you don’t mind.”

He gestured to her to continue.

“Did you know of any other version of Primavera that was painted by Botticelli, perhaps prior to the one upstairs?”

Urbano stroked his chin. “There were studies for the figures and drawings.”

“But not a painting?”

“No. Why?”

“Uh, when I thought I saw something about Mercury’s hair, I wondered if Botticelli had painted a previous version.” She lifted her new glasses. “It was just a thought.”

“Of course.” Professor Urbano gave her a patient smile and excused himself for lunch.

Raven watched him leave, mulling over their conversation.

She considered William’s account of how he’d acquired his Primavera, wondering if that was why no one had ever heard of it.

What she couldn’t understand was why no one seemed to have noticed the change in Mercury’s hair in the Uffizi’s version. She knew evidence of the change was visible. She knew she hadn’t made a mistake.

Your memory hasn’t been that great lately. You can’t even remember what happened the night of the accident.

It occurred to her that William might be the one behind Urbano’s lack of awareness, as he was behind so many odd events. Since Urbano had worked on the restoration of Primavera, he should have seen the change. Perhaps William had adjusted his memory during the restoration.

But why didn’t he delete the records?

Raven didn’t have an answer to that question, but she was determined to ask him. Her need to speak to him reminded her of what Patrick had said earlier about Agent Savola and Ispettor Batelli.