Angel's Mafia (gxg) ✓

XXIX | Mona Lisa

"THIS IS GORGEOUS," MARIA says. I ignore her, for the most part. It may not be her fault, but if I look at her face, I know I'll give her a right hook into outer space.

She's looking at the sculpture of David by Michaelangelo. It's a good choice, but I roll my eyes, just for the sake of it. The letter should be in the section with documents, around the 1800s period, and I tell Dominic so.

Once we find it, all four of us gather around as I read it.

My son, my dearest,

If you are seeing this now, I am dead. However, that is not what is important. You know that I love you, and you know that although we have struggled, I have always told you it will be worth it. That is because of this: if you look where no one has ever looked before, then you will be able to find what will give your family and your descendants wealth for generations. Please use this knowledge wisely. Please do not squander what I have given my life for.

You know that I love you.

Until we meet again,
Maurizio Colora

It's not as long a letter as I thought it would be, considering it was coming from a man who was ready to die. I'd have thought he'd have had more to say, but I finish anyways. Even though it's just a photographed version of the letter, I see the scrawl and loops of Maurizio's handwriting and fall into a somber mood. Did he realize how his life would end? Did he know the exact moment he decided to do it?

I shake away the clinging thoughts and think back. Look where no one has ever looked. That could be a million places, but it has to be somewhere Maurizio's son would know, would look. It can't be somewhere random, like Australia or Canada. It has to be somewhere it could be found, somewhere that his son would get the hint.

Where has no ever looked?

Once I've read the letter more than ten times, I set off down the halls of the museum, admiring art aimlessly and thinking about the clues.

And then it strikes.

Where no one has ever looked.

Maurizio stole from his friends those glittering Crown Jewels and he put them in a place he knew they wouldn't look. A place he knew they wouldn't find them.

Could it be . . . the very place he had stolen them from?

It made sense. If Yvette had been trailing him his whole life and had never found sight of the Jewels, then maybe Maurizio never had the Jewels on him. Maybe he smuggled the Jewels back into the tower they had stolen them from.

That day, no one could figure out how six people had stolen glittering, enormous Crown Jewels from the heart of the tower. How had they just walked right out? Well, maybe Maurizio had used that to his advantage. Maybe he had walked right back in.

Because who would ever look for the Jewels there?

Who would ever look for wealth where it had been stolen?

It was brilliant, it was insane, it was . . . it could very well be true.

Lit up with the glow of this realization, I bound through the museum. The beautiful paintings blur around me and I focus on looking for someone, anyone, whether it was Dominic or Maria or Angel.