Upon our return, Escott was scanning the capital of the column next to the vacant table. Holmes shutdown his computer as we approached; his self-satisfied demeanor and shining eyes told all.
“Tell me, Signora DiRiso,” he said, “were the people who refurbished the fireplace known to you?”
DiRiso’s jaw dropped. “How did…That wasn’t …?”
“It is elementary, Signora. The fireplace glistens from its cleaning; there is not so much a trace of dust evident to the eye. When one considers the unmarred sheen of the marble floor before it, denoting an unusual lack of traffic, the conclusion is obvious.”
The director swallowed. “The …company is our usual one. The workers were new to me.”
"Are there other cleanings scheduled by the same?"
"Items in the Hall of the Halberdiers are scheduled for cleaning next week."
A smile spread across Holmes’ face. “Signora DiRiso, might I trouble you for a ladder?’’
Two minutes later, a ladder was leaning against the column Holmes had been scanning. Escott easily scaled to its top, then, reaching through the column’s elaborate capital and into the abacus and arch, his hand disappeared, only to return clutching a two-foot-long swaddled bundle.
“Signora DiRiso,” Escott announced, “allow me to present the missing Amati.”
Amazement and joy swallowed any words Caprice DiRiso may have had.
"The problem was simplistic, though not without merit,” Holmes said, upon his return to the ground. “It was evident from their reports that the Polizia De Cremona had, understandably, assumed the Amati violin was no longer in the museum. I, however, chose to first test veracity of that premise. Using my thermal imager, I examined any place in which the missing instrument could be sequestered. My computer’s sophistication soon detected the holographic transducer disguising the hole in the column’s capital, this despite the false readings it transmits. I also determined that a foreign, violin-sized object lay within the architrave.
"It is an age-old ploy being adroitly reused: hide a coveted object in the very area meant to safe-guard it until both the furor dies and the authorities' attention is diverted. The article is then retrieved in relative safety. In this instance, the scheme has been successfully foiled. It remains but to catch the perpetrators.
"And that should not be difficult to do, though it will mean postponing the announcement of the violin’s recovery. As the cleaners are the likely culprits, the polizia need but wait for their return and their inevitable attempt to recover the Amati. It is a task for which police are imminently well-suited, though Watson and I can be on hand to superintend, should you desire.
"What remains, then, is the issue of how the villains were able to undermine your security system." Holmes' face hardened as he reached into his coat pocket. He withdrew a tiny opalescent disk which he offered to Caprice DiRiso. "Since your security system operates in the Lexitant Technology environment, I'd suggest having your network administrator apply this patch. You should not experience any more breaches. Contact me upon your next OS upgrade."
Though left unsaid, the hint of anger in Holmes' eyes told all: Sylvia Moriarty, CEO of Lexitant Technologies, had once again made use of the backdoor she had planted in her universally used operating system.
"Staordinario," DiRiso breathed as she accepted the disk, still cradling the violin. "I cannot think of words sufficient to thank you, Signore. How can I ever repay you?"
A twinkle entered Holmes' eye; a smile touched his lips. "Being a violinist myself, I would find it extremely gratifying to try my skill on such an exquisite instrument."
DiRiso did not hesitate; she instantly strode to an antique secretary. A touch of a button revealed a selection of bows, pads, and rosin.
"Enjoy," she said, extending the violin towards him. And, for a full half-hour, Escott Sherlock Holmes played as I have never heard him play, his face serene as the music of Bach ... or was it Kreisler?... echoed through the marbled corridors of the museum.
[end]
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