fit with his tall, tight frame. He was young. A wedding ring shone on his sun-tanned hand, but there was no visible tan line beneath. New job, new wife? “Perhaps he was shocked that he had done such a thing. Perhaps not.”
“Who dives beneath Venice with a harpoon in hand?” Annja asked. “It’s not as if the canals are populated with edible fish. Are they?”
“We have much flora and fauna in the canals, Signorina Creed. But the fish are smaller, such as mullets and bullheads. Still, some are edible. We even get the occasional shark in from the sea. Perhaps your harpoon man was pursuing bigger game?”
“Like humans?”
She hadn’t meant it as a joke, but Tomaso chuckled. Then, noticing she didn’t share his humor, he abruptly stopped.
“I take your report very seriously, signorina. There are drainage pipes and tunnels beneath much of our beautiful city. Some are registered. Others lead into private homes and still others may no longer be used.”
“Which is why I didn’t try to break through the gate—I didn’t know if this was a residence.”
Annja realized there really wasn’t a lot the police could do. Might it have been an accident? Possibly. And the man could have been frightened or even ashamed, so he’d fled.
“I appreciate you taking the time to listen to my complaint. I know there’s likely nothing you can do without a description of the man.”
“Unfortunately, that is so. But I am personally eager for you to discover the missing treasure you’ve described. A cross with a possible connection to Leonardo da Vinci?”
“It was likely a gift to him from René d’Anjou.”
“Ah. Our beloved Leonardo. I am so taken with the man. He did so much. And has inspired so many.”
Surprised the man was such an enthusiast of Leonardo’s and of René’s, Annja perked up.
“Details linking Leonardo da Vinci with such a cross and so many other artifacts causes much interest. And sometimes from dangerous people,” he went on.
“I find I’m more of a Leonardo purist myself,” she said. “Though there are academics and art historians who think there was more to his works. But I’m not inclined to search over his paintings or drawings for symbols and clues he may or may not have left in them. His output was so vast. I can only imagine how many European castles and manors are hiding a forgotten da Vinci in the attic or dungeon.”
“Yes, it is an intriguing thing to wonder about. The Renaissance artist was a great genius and I wonder what it might have been like for him if he could have possibly traveled through time.”
“Da Vinci a time traveler?” Now Annja chuckled.
“I know,” Tomaso agreed, “I have a tendency toward the fantastical—it has to be with the books I read. I like the science-fiction novels.” He gave her a warm smile. “Signorina Creed, have you been to Il Genio di Leonardo da Vinci Museo? They’ve re-created dozens of the inventions Leonardo designed. Quite a fascinating study.”
“No, I haven’t been able to do any sightseeing since arriving in Venice, but it sounds like a stop I’ll have to make while I’m here.”
Tomaso stood and shook Annja’s hand. “If there is anything you need from me, do let me know.” He offered her his business card. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Signorina Creed.”
* * *
A NNJA BOUGHT A sandwich on her way to the hotel. Glad she’d gone with the panino instead of the soft-crusted tramezinni, she wondered now if she could eat it all. Calling the huge chunk of bread, cheese and meat a sandwich was like calling the Canal Grande a stream. The prosciutto was so thin she could read through it, and stacked thickly within pillows of fresh mozzarella. She ate half before forcing herself to sit at the desk in her hotel room and power up the laptop for a little research.
She started with the antiquities museum located in Kraków, Poland. It featured artifacts she’d label as sentimentally significant. Annja assumed the
“Who dives beneath Venice with a harpoon in hand?” Annja asked. “It’s not as if the canals are populated with edible fish. Are they?”
“We have much flora and fauna in the canals, Signorina Creed. But the fish are smaller, such as mullets and bullheads. Still, some are edible. We even get the occasional shark in from the sea. Perhaps your harpoon man was pursuing bigger game?”
“Like humans?”
She hadn’t meant it as a joke, but Tomaso chuckled. Then, noticing she didn’t share his humor, he abruptly stopped.
“I take your report very seriously, signorina. There are drainage pipes and tunnels beneath much of our beautiful city. Some are registered. Others lead into private homes and still others may no longer be used.”
“Which is why I didn’t try to break through the gate—I didn’t know if this was a residence.”
Annja realized there really wasn’t a lot the police could do. Might it have been an accident? Possibly. And the man could have been frightened or even ashamed, so he’d fled.
“I appreciate you taking the time to listen to my complaint. I know there’s likely nothing you can do without a description of the man.”
“Unfortunately, that is so. But I am personally eager for you to discover the missing treasure you’ve described. A cross with a possible connection to Leonardo da Vinci?”
“It was likely a gift to him from René d’Anjou.”
“Ah. Our beloved Leonardo. I am so taken with the man. He did so much. And has inspired so many.”
Surprised the man was such an enthusiast of Leonardo’s and of René’s, Annja perked up.
“Details linking Leonardo da Vinci with such a cross and so many other artifacts causes much interest. And sometimes from dangerous people,” he went on.
“I find I’m more of a Leonardo purist myself,” she said. “Though there are academics and art historians who think there was more to his works. But I’m not inclined to search over his paintings or drawings for symbols and clues he may or may not have left in them. His output was so vast. I can only imagine how many European castles and manors are hiding a forgotten da Vinci in the attic or dungeon.”
“Yes, it is an intriguing thing to wonder about. The Renaissance artist was a great genius and I wonder what it might have been like for him if he could have possibly traveled through time.”
“Da Vinci a time traveler?” Now Annja chuckled.
“I know,” Tomaso agreed, “I have a tendency toward the fantastical—it has to be with the books I read. I like the science-fiction novels.” He gave her a warm smile. “Signorina Creed, have you been to Il Genio di Leonardo da Vinci Museo? They’ve re-created dozens of the inventions Leonardo designed. Quite a fascinating study.”
“No, I haven’t been able to do any sightseeing since arriving in Venice, but it sounds like a stop I’ll have to make while I’m here.”
Tomaso stood and shook Annja’s hand. “If there is anything you need from me, do let me know.” He offered her his business card. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Signorina Creed.”
* * *
A NNJA BOUGHT A sandwich on her way to the hotel. Glad she’d gone with the panino instead of the soft-crusted tramezinni, she wondered now if she could eat it all. Calling the huge chunk of bread, cheese and meat a sandwich was like calling the Canal Grande a stream. The prosciutto was so thin she could read through it, and stacked thickly within pillows of fresh mozzarella. She ate half before forcing herself to sit at the desk in her hotel room and power up the laptop for a little research.
She started with the antiquities museum located in Kraków, Poland. It featured artifacts she’d label as sentimentally significant. Annja assumed the
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