"My best student! I'm so, so glad to see you! What are you doing these days?"
"Professore Bonomi! I'm glad to see you."
"Umberto, I didn't know you knew Sofia. Although I'm not surprised: She's one of the most outstanding specialists in art in Italy. It's a shame she didn't want to stay in academia. I offered to make her my assistant, but my pleas fell on deaf ears, I fear."
"Please, professore!"
"No, I tell you, I never had a student as intelligent and capable as you, Sofia."
"Yes," D'Alaqua interrupted, "I know that Dottoressa Galloni is quite competent."
"Competent, no-brilliant, Umberto, and with a wonderfully speculative mind. Forgive my indiscretion, but what are you doing here, Sofia?"
"I work for the Art Crimes Department," Sofia said uncomfortably, "and I'm just in Turin for a few days."
'Ah! The Art Crimes Department. I somehow hadn't seen you working as an investigator."
"My work is more scientific. I don't really do investigative work per se."
"Come, Sofia, I'll introduce you to some colleagues I'd like you to meet."
D'Alaqua took her arm and held her in place, preventing Professore Bonomi from taking her away.
"Wait, Guido. I was about to introduce the dottoressa to His Eminence."
"Oh, well, uh… Are you coming to the Pavarotti concert tomorrow night, Umberto? And the dinner I'm giving for Cardinal Visier?"
"Yes, of course."
"Why don't you bring Sofia? I'd love you to come, my dear, if you have no other plans."
"Well, I-"
"I'd be delighted to accompany Dottoressa Galloni if she has no other plans. Now, if you'll excuse us, the cardinal is waiting… We'll talk later, Guido."
D'Alaqua led Sofia back to the group standing with Cardinal Visier. The cardinal looked Sofia over with curiosity, as though evaluating her; he seemed amiable but as cold as ice. He did appear to have a close relationship with D'Alaqua; they treated each other familiarly, as though they were joined by some subtle thread.
For a while they talked about art, then politics, and then about the shroud.
It was a little past nine when the guests began to disperse. D'Alaqua was preparing to leave with Aubry and the two cardinals, plus Dr. Bolard and two other scientists, but first he sought out Sofia, who at the moment was with Marco and her former professor.
"Good night, dottoressa, Guido, Signor Valoni…"
"Where are you having dinner, Umberto?" asked Bonomi.
'At the residence of His Eminence the cardinal of Turin."
'Ah. Well, I hope to see you tomorrow night with Sofia."
Sofia could feel herself blushing.
"Yes, of course. I'll be in touch, Dottoressa Galloni. Good night."
Sofia and Marco said their good-byes to the cardinal and Padre Yves. The cardinal confirmed that they had set a meeting with Dr. Bolard and then suggested that Yves take Sofia and Marco to dinner. And despite the protestations of the two, they all left together for La Vecchia Lanterna, one of the best restaurants in the city.
It was after midnight when Padre Yves dropped Sofia and Marco at the door of their hotel. It had been a convivial evening. They had talked about all sorts of things and dined splendidly, as was only to be expected at a restaurant as celebrated as La Vecchia Lanterna.
"This social life is killing me!" Marco laughed as he and Sofia walked toward the hotel bar for a nightcap and a postmortem on the evening.
"But we had a good time."
"You're a princess, so you were in your element. I'm a cop, and I was working."
"Marco, you're a lot more than a cop. You've got a degree in history, and you've taught all of us more about art than we ever learned at the university."
"Oh, come on… Now-what can you tell me about D'Alaqua?"
"I don't know what to tell you. Padre Yves and he are a lot alike, I think: They're both intelligent, correct, 'nice,' good-looking, and totally inaccessible."
"It didn't look to me like D'Alaqua was so inaccessible to you; besides, he's not a priest."
"No, he's not, but there's something about him that makes him seem like he's… like he's not of this world, if you know what I mean, as though he were kind of floating above all of us mortals down here… I don't know, it's a strange feeling, I can't quite explain it."
"He seemed to hang on your every word."
"But no more than on anybody else's. I'd like to think he was interested in me, but he's not, Marco, and I'm not going to delude myself. I'm old enough to know when a man's interested in me."
"What did he say to you?"
"The short time we were alone, he asked me about the investigation. I avoided telling him what we were doing here, except that you wanted to meet the committee that deals with the shroud."
"What did you think about Bolard?"
"It's odd, but he's the same kind of man as D'Alaqua and Padre Yves. Now we know that they know one another-I guess that was predictable, huh?"
"You know what? I've thought the same thing- there's something really striking and unusual about them. I'm not sure exacdy what it is. It's got me a little spooked. I'm used to studying people-it's part of my nature-but there's something different going on here. These men are incredibly imposing, almost otherworldly, as you say. Maybe it's their physical presence, their elegance, their self-assurance. They're accustomed to giving orders. Our talkative Professore Bonomi told me that Bolard is entirely dedicated to science, which is why he's never married."
"Why do you think he's so devoted to the shroud, when carbon-fourteen dates it only from the Middle Ages?"
"I don't know. But when he talked about it tonight there was no doubt he considers it his life's work. We'll see how my meeting with him goes tomorrow. I want you to come. What's happening with dinner at Bonomi's?"
"He insisted that D'Alaqua take me to the opera and then to his house, to the dinner he's giving for Cardinal Visier. D'Alaqua had no choice but to agree. But I don't know whether I should go."
"Oh, you're definitely going. And you're going to keep your eyes and ears open. It's a mission, and you accept; all those respectable, powerful men have skeletons in their closets, and one of them may know something about our case."
"Marco, please! It's absurd to think that those men have anything in the world to do with any of this-"
"No, it's not absurd, dottoressa. Now it's the cop talking to you. I don't trust the high and mighty. To get where they've gotten they've had to wade through a lot of shit and step on a lot of toes. You'll recall, too, that every time we dismantle some team of art thieves we find the receiver of the artwork is some eccentric millionaire who just has to have objects that belong to all of humanity in his own private gallery.
"You're a princess, like I said, but they're sharks, and they consume everything that stands in their way. Don't forget that tomorrow night. All their perfect manners, their refined conversation, the luxury they live in-facade, pure facade. I trust them less than the thieves and pickpockets in Trastevere, believe me."