The Da Vinci Deception (31 page)

It was not yet eight when Tony appeared and the two acknowledged each other with a nod. Tony was deeply tanned from hours spent speeding
over the lake. Then a loud voice boomed out. Giorgio Burri had arrived, his spirits obviously at high pitch.

“
Buona sera.
It is good to see you again.” He pounded Waters on the shoulder as he greeted him.

“
Buona sera,
Signore Burri,” Tony replied. “You have heard of Curtis Stiehl, and now you meet him.”

“A pleasure, Curtis,” Giorgio said with a wide grin. “We can now begin a long friendship.”

The two shook hands and Stiehl immediately felt the man's warmth. “I've a hundred questions to ask you.”

“And I have a hundred answers. But none of that now. Tonight is special. I have lived on the lake for many years but never have set foot in the great old Vescovo home. It has a richness that only Jonas Kalem could magnify with his . . . how should I say...
voluttà.
”

Ellie came to the doorway. She wore a plain white dress with a scooped neckline that just showed the swell of her breasts. Around her neck was a gold necklace from which hung an emerald surrounded by small diamonds. She touched it somewhat self-consciously. It had been placed on her dressing table along with a note from Jonas.

The men ceased their chattering as Ellie proceeded toward them. At that moment Jonas appeared and went to her side. “Gentlemen, may I present Miss Eleanor Shepard.” The huge man loomed over her, then, with unusual grace, took her hand and kissed it.

Giorgio placed himself in front of Ellie and bowed correctly. “Signorina Shepard, it is my great honor.” He gazed at her like a doting father. “You are most beautiful.”

Ellie extended her hand. “I've looked forward to meeting you. Mr. Kalem has told me about you.” She turned. “You must be Curtis Stiehl.”

“Until now you have been the mystery woman in Florence who finds old paper and ink.” He accepted her outstretched hand.

“Do I look mysterious?” Ellie smiled.

For that moment Stiehl wanted only to continue holding her hand and not worry about finding the right words for a reply. “Not mysterious,” he answered, then added quietly, “but very pretty.”

“Thank you,” Ellie said. “That was kind of you.”

Their eyes stayed on each other's until Tony stepped forward and took Ellie's arm.

“Good evening, Miss Shepard,” he said with deference. “The emerald catches the beauty of your eyes.”

Ellie accepted the compliment and could think only to comment on Tony's hours in the sun. “You look well with your new tan. I'm afraid I would be burned scarlet.” She was polite but her smile had disappeared.

The minutes that followed went quickly for Stiehl, who stepped to the side and observed Giorgio's outspoken, frequently outrageous humor and the effortless way Jonas orchestrated the evening's events. But he could not avoid focusing on Eleanor.

At nine dinner was announced and Jonas tucked Ellie's arm under his and led the group into the dining room. He had chosen a menu highlighting foods and wines of the region. A hot antipasto followed by a pasta in a creamy sauce. Then fish: filets of lake fish—
lavarello
and
salmonrino,
both native to Lake Como. Giorgio seized the commentary from his host rapturing over the
salmonrino.
“There is no delicacy to compare with its flavor, the heartiness of salmon blended with the sweetness of trout.” He turned to Ellie. “It is ambrosia, an aphrodisiac should you be unwary.”

“That's not fair. I'm outnumbered four to one.”

“I shall protect you, Eleanor. But you should know that I am one of the most successful
salmonrino
fishermen on the lake,” he proclaimed.

“A commendable accomplishment,” Jonas said.

“They are very scarce and difficult to trap,” Giorgio continued. “I have developed my own special techniques.”

“Will you teach me your secrets?” Tony asked.

“They have required many years to learn and I would be unwise to give them away.”

“Your secrets would be safe,” Tony replied.

“A secret shared is no longer a secret.”

Stiehl was amused by Tony's interest in lake fishing and also took note that Giorgio was not easily bullied.

After the last dish was served, Jonas rose to his feet.

“We have made greater progress than I thought possible and each of you has made immensely important contributions.” He lifted his glass and turned to Ellie. “To Eleanor. You have brought the paper and the inks, yes, the chalk and dyes, too. A toast to your hard work and diligence.” Glasses were lifted all around.

“And to Giorgio,” Jonas went on. “We are indebted to your mastery of Leonardo's life and his works. Your scholarship is the backbone of our collective effort.”

“There is no strongest or weakest link in our chain, but if the skilled
hand of Curtis Stiehl were not present, there would be no opportunity to succeed.” Again the glasses were raised.

“Now, finally, I salute Tony, who is my ‘adhering agent.' He adds sharp eyes and a strong body to deal with the endless details which are part of this complex enterprise.”

It was Giorgio's turn. “To Jonas. A man who has created a new
Il Diodario
. Because of you, these old gray stones are alive once more.”

Stiehl had rarely taken his eyes off Eleanor, and as Jonas toasted each of his guests, he wondered how completely she understood all the ramifications of the “complex enterprise” in which she had become such an important yet innocent participant.

F
rom his studio Stiehl could look south to the city of Como, across to Cernobbio, and north beyond the Villa Carlotta to the pre-Alps. Immediately below his windows was the wide stone dock. Not content with the light that flooded through the high windows, Jonas had added panels of lights in the ceiling. Other lamps hung from stanchions spotted strategically around the work area. Bookshelves lined a long wall, and tucked into one were the components of a sound system. Concealed among all the lights and electronic paraphernalia were microphones and a miniature television camera. Buried amid Jonas's opulence was the means to satisfy his unquenchable curiosity and monitor the loyalty of the artist on whom so much depended.

Earlier, Stiehl had joined Eleanor at breakfast. They shared their memories of the previous evening, laughing at Giorgio's flamboyant storytelling. When he said good-bye, he added that he hoped she would return soon. He remembered how she smiled.

He looked below to the water and the sleek, white speedboat. Tony was fine-tuning and adjusting, coaxing every bit of speed the powerful engine could generate. Eleanor appeared carrying a small suitcase. Tony would drop her at the Villa d'Este and return with Giorgio as his passenger. Stiehl returned his attention to his drawings and found that Jonas stood inside the doorway.

“Am I interrupting?”

“I'm still adjusting to this studio, and the sights out those windows.”

“Better too many amenities than not enough.” Jonas lowered himself into a chair beside the giant drawing board. “Eleanor is confident she's hit on the right formula for the red chalk and the ink, but she needs more samples with both ink and chalk worked into the paper.”

“We had a chance to talk about that last night. I told her I would work up a half-dozen short pages.”

“What else did you talk about?” Jonas asked with a touch of anxiety.

“Old paper and ink made with iron and gallstones are not my idea of hot topics for such a pretty head.”

“Perhaps a hot topic would have been better. I was afraid that if she stayed in Florence without meeting you and Giorgio, she might begin asking questions.”

“She asked a few, but harmless, I thought.”

“What kind of questions?”

“How did I meet you, for example.”

“And how did we meet?”

“I answered an ad for a layout artist.”

Jonas smiled. “What else has aroused her curiosity?”

“Giorgio. She wonders why he's so important to what we're doing. I told her he was one of your old friends and besides, he's your neighbor across the lake.”

Jonas asked if Eleanor was curious about the Windsor Library assignment.

“Not about the project. She seemed a little homesick and wondered where I lived. That sort of thing.”

“Eleanor believes that we have an assignment from the Royal Library. And she knows I have been in pursuit of the missing Leonardos for many years. That's all she needs to know and all she must ever know. She will come back to
Il Diodario
one more time, then return to her friends in Washington. This studio is off limits to her. But of course you know all this, we discussed it in my office many months ago.”

Stiehl remembered that first visit when Eleanor Shepard was only a name. Now he could put a face to the name and wasn't sure he wanted her back in Washington.

“I'll be happy to begin work with Giorgio.”

Jonas glanced at his watch. “He'll be here in less than an hour. And with his original drawings,” he added with emphasis.

“All of them? All forty of them?”

Jonas was suddenly on his feet. “You said forty sheets? But there are fifty-six.”

“I only have forty.” Stiehl pointed to the forty Xerox copies neatly stacked on the board.

Jonas leafed through the pages. “Forty? Tony was given fifty-six.”

“That's what he gave me,” Stiehl said flatly.

Jonas picked up the phone and jabbed at the buttons. “
Pronto! Pronto!
Signore Waters, tell him to come to the studio immediately.”

“He's about ready to take Ellie across the lake,” Stiehl said.

Jonas went to the window. “He'll get the word. Are you sure there are only forty?”

“Of course. I logged and cataloged each one.”

The cheeks on the big man were scarlet. “Does he think this is some silly game we're playing?”

The low roar from the engine had stopped. Jonas turned and stared at the door, his hands clamped tightly behind his back, his feet set wide apart. He stood motionless until the door opened and Tony strode confidently into the room.

“I've been informed by Curtis that he has forty sheets, yet you received fifty-six. Perhaps you can account for the missing sixteen?”

“No problem. I have them.”

“Why do you have them?”

“For safekeeping. That was my judgment.”

“Stupid thinking. Did you think the man was going to sell Xerox copies in Times Square?”

The rebuke was unexpected and Tony showed anger at being dressed down in front of Stiehl.

“Bring them to me immediately,” Jonas commanded.

“It was a reasonable precaution,” Tony protested. “He can't work on all the bloody sheets at the same time.”

Jonas pointed a shaking finger toward the door, his voice low and threatening. “I don't give a damn for your twisted judgments. I make judgments, you follow orders. The other sheets. I want them now.”

Tony backed away, glowering. He raised his chin and his lips moved but he said nothing. He turned and walked from the room.

“Forget this incident, Curtis. Tony overreacts at times, and if I treat his mistakes gently, he'll repeat them.” He returned to the chair. “How long in hours or days—will it take to complete the first drawings?”

Stiehl shrugged. It wasn't an easily answered question. “I've been concentrating on technique for over six months and I'm confident I can duplicate with a pen—my pen—nearly anything Leonardo ever drew. I'll never master his brush technique or the subtlety of his chiaroscuro, and no one will match his ability to choose and blend pigments. He spent years on a painting, but only minutes on a drawing. To duplicate the fluid line I must draw as fast.” Stiehl pushed a small drawing of the infant Christ in front of Jonas.

“If I can't draw that face in minutes, then I won't be able to duplicate the smooth lines he put on paper. To be successful, my drawings have to look like Leonardo drew them. It isn't copying, it's a different technique.”

Stiehl stepped back from the table. “When I feel I'm ready to put a drawing on paper, I'll be able to complete it in two or three hours. The trick will be in feeling ready.”

“Do you feel you are?”

“Giorgio will help me make that decision.”

“It will be favorable, I know.”

Tony returned. He handed Jonas a package and was gone as quickly as he had arrived.

Jonas gave the package to Stiehl. “He'll be angrier than hell until he's out on the water.” Jonas patted Stiehl's shoulder and walked from the studio.

Stiehl filled his pen and began to draw. His hand moved confidently, the last traces of hesitation gone. At his side were easels holding enlarged reproductions of Leonardo's
Lady with an Ermine,
the
Mona Lisa,
and numerous studies of young women. He had drawn all or parts of them, it seemed, a thousand times. He was familiar with every feature and nuance—with the angle of a head turned and tilted, with the ways Leonardo had broken from tradition, expressing his philosophy of light and shadow. To Stiehl's immense capacity to mimic others he added his understanding of how Leonardo used ink and chalks. From the beginning of his association with Jonas he had sought this inner understanding so that whatever his mind told his hand to draw, the result would automatically appear in the precise style of the Master.

Writing in reverse continued to present a larger problem. He pushed aside the drawings and began again the laborious task of disciplining his hand to move quickly while setting down the unfamiliar words. It required intense concentration to memorize Leonardo's spelling of two or three words, practice writing them with a ballpoint pen on ruled paper, then plain paper, then with pen and ink, and finally write the few words on what would become the finished manuscript with one of the crude pens he had made.