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team you choose.”
    â€œI spoke with John yesterday. You haven’t started any tests yet.”
    â€œNo. This delay has cost us time, and you’ll be expected to begin immediately.”
    â€œThat’s why I’m here.”
    Elizabeth inclined her head. “What happened to your leg? You’re limping a bit.”
    â€œI was mugged, remember?”
    â€œYou said you’d been robbed, you didn’t say you’d been injured.”
    â€œYou didn’t ask.”
    Elizabeth let out what from anyone else Miranda would have considered a sigh. “You might have explained you’d been hurt during the incident.”
    â€œI might have. I didn’t. The priority was, after all, the loss of my documents and the delay that caused.” She inclined her head, in a mirror of Elizabeth’s gesture. “That much was made very clear.”
    â€œI assumed—” Elizabeth cut herself off, flung her hand in a gesture that might have been annoyance or defeat. “Why don’t you sit down while I give you some background?”
    So, the matter was to be tabled. Miranda had expected it. She sat, crossed her legs.
    â€œThe man who discovered the bronze—”
    â€œThe plumber.”
    â€œYes.” For the first time Elizabeth smiled, a quick curving of lips that was more an acknowledgment of the absurdity than genuine amusement. “Carlo Rinaldi. Apparently he’s an artist at heart, if not in deed. He’s never been able to make a living from his painting and his wife’s father owns a plumbing business, so . . .”
    Miranda’s quick eyebrow flick was a measure of mild surprise. “Does his background matter?”
    â€œOnly insofar as his connection to the piece. There appears to be none. He, from all accounts, literally stumbled over it. He claims to have found it hidden under a broken step in the cellar of the Villa della Donna Oscura. And that, as far as has been verified, seems to be the case.”
    â€œWas there some question of that? Is he suspected of fabricating the story—and the bronze?”
    â€œIf there was, the minister is satisfied with Rinaldi’s story now.”
    Elizabeth folded her perfectly manicured hands on the edge of the desk. Her New England spine was straight as a ruler. Unconsciously, Miranda shifted ever so slightly to level her own.
    â€œThe fact that he found it,” Elizabeth continued, “smuggled it out of the villa in his toolbox, then took his time reporting it through the proper channels caused some initial concern.”
    Troubled, Miranda folded her hands to keep her fingers from tapping on her knee. It didn’t occur to her that she now exactly mirrored her mother’s pose. “How long did he have it?”
    â€œFive days.”
    â€œThere was no damage? You’ve examined it?”
    â€œI have. I’d rather not make any comments until you’ve seen it yourself.”
    â€œWell then.” Miranda cocked her head. “Let’s have a look.”
    In answer, Elizabeth walked over to a cabinet, and opening the door, revealed a small steel safe.
    â€œYou’re keeping it in here?”
    â€œMy security is more than adequate. A number of people have access to the vaults in the labs, and I preferred to limit that access in this case. And I thought it would be less distracting for you to do an initial exam here.”
    With one coral-tipped finger, Elizabeth punched in a code, waited, then added another series of numbers. Opening the reinforced door, she took out a metal box. After setting it on her desk, she opened the lid and took out a bundle wrapped in faded velvet.
    â€œWe’ll date the cloth as well, and the wood from the step.”
    â€œNaturally.” Though her fingers itched, Miranda rose and stepped forward slowly when Elizabeth set the bundle on her spotless white blotter. “There are no documents, correct?”
    â€œNone,