The Raven(19)
“Of course.” Vitali smiled, motioning to Raven to come forward. “And you are . . . ?”
Raven paused, embarrassed. “Raven Wood, dottore.”
Dottor Vitali took in her appearance with a look of incredulity.
Raven fidgeted.
Vitali glanced at his guests, appearing to recover from his shock.
“Miss Wood.” He began speaking English. “Bring Mrs. Emerson to the conference room. Then return here. I’d like to speak to you.”
“Of course.” Raven forced a smile, for the director’s tone and posture were noticeably cold.
“Thank you.” Mrs. Emerson stood, holding the baby in one hand and attempting to lift a purse and a large Coach messenger bag with the other.
Raven gestured to the hallway. “This way, please.”
The professor lifted the purse and bag, placing them over his wife’s shoulder, before stroking the baby’s head and kissing her.
Raven looked away as he embraced his wife, before stepping aside to let her pass.
“Come back when you’re ready, darling.” The professor smiled.
Mrs. Emerson nodded before addressing Raven in English. “Thank you. I tried to give Clare her breakfast at the hotel but she wouldn’t eat. I’m afraid we’re all jet-lagged.”
“No problem. The conference room is private and it’s just down the hall.” Raven gestured to their right as they exited the office, responding in English.
Mrs. Emerson was dressed in a simple black shirtdress, with black espadrilles that tied in wide bands around her ankles and shapely lower legs. She had shoulder-length brown hair, highlighted with gold, and big brown eyes. She was petite and young looking, with a very gentle way about her.
Next to her, Raven felt enormous and dowdy, as she always felt when standing next to a thin and beautiful person. (She was forgetting that she’d recently undergone a tremendous physical transformation.)
“Can I carry your bags, Mrs. Emerson?”
She laughed. “Call me Julia. We have to be the same age.”
“I’m almost thirty,” Raven blurted out.
“I’ll be thirty in a couple of years. So please call me Julia. If you’d carry the diaper bag, I’d be grateful.”
She held Clare with one hand while Raven pulled the bag from her shoulder.
Raven was unprepared for the weight and nearly dropped it, but managed to keep it from hitting the floor at the last moment.
“I’m sorry. I should have warned you.” Julia made a move to help her, but Raven waved her off and lifted the item with both hands.
“Gabriel wants to be prepared for any emergency and so he stuffs things into it when I’m not looking. I need a stroller for Clare and a stroller for the diaper bag.” She laughed. “Actually, I need a stroller for myself. Traveling with a baby is more challenging than I thought.”
“Are you staying nearby?”
“Yes, at the Gallery Hotel Art.” Julia’s expression brightened. “We’re here for a week, then we’re going to Umbria. Clare’s godmother is with us.”
“That’s nice.” Raven didn’t really know what to say.
“But we’re really upset about the robbery,” Julia confided, holding Clare close to her body. “The illustrations are more than just artwork to us. They have sentimental value. When Dottor Vitali called to say they’d been stolen . . .”
Julia nuzzled her daughter, as if she were trying to hide her face.
“I’m so sorry,” Raven whispered.
“Gabriel is hoping they’ll be recovered, but I’m not sure how likely that is. I guess all we can do is pray.
“It’s possible the illustrations were stolen once before and that’s how they came to belong to the family who sold them to my husband.” Julia sighed. “I guess we’ll never know.”
Raven was curious about her remark, since it was a possibility that had not been disclosed in Dottor Vitali’s leaflet. She elected not to press the point.
“The police are doing all they can. I hope they find them.”
“I hope so, too. You sound American.” Julia looked at her with interest.
“I’m from New Hampshire. I lived in Florida so long I lost my accent.”
“I’m from Pennsylvania, but we live in Cambridge.” Julia grinned. “I don’t think I’ll ever sound as if I’m from Boston. What part of the gallery do you work in?”
“Restoration and conservation. I’m part of the team working on the Birth of Venus.”
Julia’s brown eyes lit up. “That’s one of my favorite paintings. I don’t suppose you let guests view the restoration? I promise not to get in the way.”