Page 13 of Chasing Caine
“Really? Only one? Were they split up for transport?” Or perhaps the theft was by more than one party? No, that would be too coincidental.
“Good question.” De Rosa made another note. “You’re familiar with how things move secretly around the country?”
What kind of question was that? Was this about my Uncle Giovanni or my cousin Cristian? “I’m familiar with mathematics. Three pots were stolen and one was recovered. That means there are still two left, so they were not togeth—”
He raised a hand to cut me off. “No offense intended. We need to cover all angles.”
“You think someone from the lab took the pots?” Mario asked.
“My first assumption was that someone simply misplaced them. Small items like that are easy to lose, even if there’s a good inventory system. It made more sense. But with the discovery in Rome—that changes things.” He gestured toward Mario and then me with his pen. “They were last accounted for on Thursday. Can you two give me a summary of your activities since that day?”
We reviewed for him, a boring list consisting primarily of work, food, and sleep. Visits to the Casa di Marte, time in the lab. Our chaotic visit to the club. Breakfast. He took notes as we spoke, interrupting only for clarification on minor points and contact information for the woman Mario had brought home—which Mario didn’t have.
“I interviewed everyone at the lab yesterday.” Skimming his pages, De Rosa nodded to himself. “That just leaves Océane Monet and Thomas Grange for me to speak with.”
“They may be out of town,” I said. “With the lens—the missing equipment—delayed, I told them to take a week to explore. They’re both from outside Italia, so I thought they might enjoy their extra time.”
The officer’s head cocked. “When did you tell them that?”
“Yesterday.”
De Rosa was slow to return to his notebook.
So slow I could almost hear the dominoes falling in his brain. If either Océane or Thomas were behind the theft of the pigment pots, they would have had ample time to get to Roma. “You said one of the pots was recovered. Was it just the pot? Or was there a courier or…”
“Another interesting question.” Now he made several notes while Mario and I glanced at each other.
Mario said, “Neither of them would—”
De Rosa held up a hand. “Grazie mille, gentlemen. I’ll be in touch if I have more questions.”
“And my missing lens? Are you going to pursue that?” This was supposed to be the benefit of the police investigating. It would hurry the shipping company in their search.
“Nothing I can do if it’s simply a delayed shipment.” De Rosa flipped open his notebook and clicked his pen. “Unless you think the delivery company may have stolen it? Or it was actually delivered to the Park but vanished before you could verify? Perhaps it’s more valuable than you were suggesting?”
No. I wanted to speed up its delivery so I could finish the project in Pompeii sooner and get back to Samantha. But she was in Naples now. And we’d postponed the project because the piece was missing.
A smile broke deep inside me, warming my chest. The missing lens was now a blessing. I had time to spend with Samantha before I started work.
Mario began, “It would be helpful if you could—”
I cut him off. “You’re right. I’ll call the delivery company again and apply pressure.”
De Rosa took a sip of his coffee and stood, nodding to us both. “If there’s anything else you think of, I work at the office attached to the Park. You can contact me there.”
We saw him to the door, shook hands, and he left.
I turned to Mario. “Why would Bianca tell him the lens was valuable and imply someone stole it?”
“You know her.” He took a sip of the coffee he’d brought with him, a faint scowl on his lips. “So dramatic all the time.”
“And other than the question about knowing how things were transported, not even an implication about my family.”
“That was surprising,” said Mario. “I expected that was why he was here.”
We walked from the front door to the base of the stairs. What a turn the day had taken.
“Part of me wants to call Cristian to find out if they’re involved. But—”