It should have been a drawing of Leonardo da Vincis, OToole replied.
What did you do with the photograph? Mr. Visconti asked.
I threw it away. I wont have any torsos to remind me
Ill have you pulled in again in the morning, OToole threatened, whatever bribes you pay. The Ambassador himself
Ten thousand dollars was the agreed price, but Ill accept payment in the local currency if its more convenient.
For a photograph of a lot of black women, OToole said.
If you really want the photograph I would throw it in with the other.
What other?
The princes picture.
Mr. Visconti turned the frame over and began to tear away the backing. My aunt said, Would anyone like some whisky?
Not after the champagne, dear.
Mr. Visconti removed a small drawing which had been hidden behind the photograph of Freetown. It could not have been more than eight inches by six. OToole looked at it with wonder. Mr. Visconti said, There you are. Is anything wrong?
I guess I thought it would be a Madonna.
Leonardo was not primarily interested in Madonnas. He was the chief engineer of the Popes army. Alexander VI[303]. You know about Alexander?
Im not a Roman Catholic, OToole said. He was the Borgia Pope.
A bad guy?
In some respects, Mr. Visconti said, he resembled my patron, the late Marshal Goering. Now this, as you can see, is an ingenious device for attacking the walls of a city. A sort of dredge, very much the same as they use on building sites today, though motivated by human power. It grabs out the foundations of a wall and throws the stones up to this catapult, which projects them into the city. In fact, you bombard the city with its own walls. Ingenious, isnt it?
Ten thousand dollars for this Would it work?
Im no engineer, Mr. Visconti said. I cannot judge it practically, but I challenge anyone today to make so beautiful a drawing of a dredge.
I guess youre right, OToole said and added with reverence, So this is the real McCoy[304]. Weve been looking for this and for you for nearly twenty years.
And where does it go now?
The prince died in prison, so I guess we hand it over to the Italian government. He gave a sigh. I dont know whether it was of disillusion or satisfaction.
You may keep the frame, Mr. Visconti said kindly.
I went with OToole down through the garden to the gate. There was no sign now of the old bodyguard. OToole said, It goes against the grain to see the U.S. government pay ten thousand dollars for a stolen picture.
It would be difficult to prove, I said. Perhaps it was a sort of present to Goering. I wonder why they shut the prince up.
We stood together by his car. He said, I got a letter today from Lucinda. The first in nine months. She writes about a boy-friend of hers. She says they are hitch-hiking to Goa because Vientiane wasnt right for him.
Hes a painter, I explained.
A painter? He put the Leonardo carefully on the back seat.
He paints pictures of Heinz soup tins.
You are joking.
Leonardo drew a dredge and you paid ten thousand dollars for it.
I guess Ill never understand art, OToole said. Wheres Goa?
On the coast of India.
That girls one hell of an anxiety, he said, but if she hadnt existed, I thought, hed have been anxious just the same. Anxieties, in his case, would always settle on him like flies on an open wound.
Thanks for getting me out of the jail, I said.
Any friend of Lucindas
Give my love to Tooley when you write.
Im putting your friend Wordsworth on the next boat. Why dont you go with him?
My family
Viscontis no relation of yours. Hes not your type, Henry.
My aunt
An aunts not all that close. An aunts not a mother. He couldnt get his starter to work. He said, Its time they gave me a newer car. Think about it, Henry.
I will.
I found Mr. Visconti laughing when I returned, my aunt watching him with disapproval.
Whats up?
I told him ten thousand dollars was too little for a Leonardo.
It didnt belong to him, I said. And hes got security as well. The files closed.
Mr. Visconti, my aunt said, has never cared about security.
The boat goes back the day after tomorrow. OToole is putting Wordsworth on board. He wants me to go with him.
She said I ought to have asked double, Mr. Visconti said, for a Leonardo.
So you should have.
But its not a Leonardo at all. Its only a copy, Mr. Visconti said. Thats why they shut the prince up. He was a little breathless with laughter. He said, It was nearly a perfect copy. The prince was afraid of thieves and he kept the original in a bank. Unfortunately the bank was obliterated by the American air force. No one knew, except the prince, that the Leonardo was obliterated too.
If it was so good a copy how could the Gestapo tell? I asked.
The prince was a very old man, Mr. Visconti said with all the pride of his mere eighty years. When I came to see him on behalf of the Marshal he pleaded for his picture. He told me it was only a copy and I wouldnt believe him. Then he showed me. If you look through a magnifying glass at the cog-wheel of the dredge you can see the forgers initials in looking-glass writing. I kept the drawing in memory of the prince, because I thought it might prove useful one day.