Nina knew that their destination, the Palazza Nuovo Museum wasn't far, well within walking distance. They trudged through the streets, passing by shops, restaurants, and street vendors. She was enraptured by it all, like she always was every time she came to Rome, completely lost in her thoughts of times when Roman legionnaires marched through these same streets.
Rome had survived civil wars, foreign invaders, and fires that nearly destroyed the entire place. It was remarkable that so much of it was still left standing. Of course, most of the buildings in the city were built far later, but the spots that remained from the ancient days gave the whole city a unique feeling. Even some of the oldest cities in the United Kingdom and Eastern Europe didn't have remnants of things from thousands of years ago.
Nina led them to the Palazza Nuovo but when they arrived, they just found police cars parked haphazardly on the street outside of the museum's entrance. One had even mounted the curb, like the police had to get there in a hurry and didn't care about where they had to park their cars. Something was definitely going on at the Palazza Nuovo.
Nina exchanged disconcerted glances with her team members as they approached the building. A lone officer was standing by the police vehicle, waving people passing by away to carry on with their mornings. They didn't need civilians getting in the way of whatever work they were doing. He already looked agitated as Nina and the others approached. He tried to deter them away from the museum with some preemptive waves of his hand to keep them back.
Nina knew some Italian—hopefully enough to get them inside, but she doubted it.
A young woman stepped out of the museum doors and hurried over to the policeman, shooting quick glances toward Nina's direction. She spoke to the officer quietly and the officer looked Nina and the others over before stepping aside, allowing them to pass. Nina didn't know who the young woman was but she was grateful that she showed up. Otherwise, that policeman would have practically been a brick wall.
They walked past the police officer through the glass doors of the museum. Riley gave a sarcastic “graci” in a faux Italian accent as she passed by the cop. They followed the young woman who had come to their rescue into the museum.
“I'm Monica Moretti, the floor manager here at the Palazza Nuovo.”
As they moved through the lobby of the museum, past the check-in stations for visitors, they walked by some more police. They were inspecting a shattered display case, which was now nothing more than a messy pile of glass on the floor.
“Rough morning?” Nina asked.
“What gave that way?” Monica asked with a slight, tired smile. She looked utterly exhausted, and had probably already been up for hours, despite how early it was. Whatever was going on had probably made this a very early day for some of the employees at the museum. “We’ve had some problems with thievery of late...all of the museums and collectors in the area have. The museums of Rome are practically under siege from these burglars.”
“Are they all by the same burglars?” August asked.
“Yes,” Monica said. “They leave the same letter at every scene of the crime. And they seem to only be after antiquities of Roman origin.”
“That's why we're here too,” Riley said, but caught herself after she articulated it. “Not to steal them, obviously, but we're here to find something Roman.”
Security guards stood in a small cluster nearby and looked unsure of what to do with themselves. They were red-faced, looking noticeably ashamed. They were probably dreading what would happen because of this robbery. A fiasco like this might unfortunately cost them their paychecks.
“They came sometime last night. Got away with a few items but thankfully not too much.”
Nina was surprised that a group of thieves like that hadn't been caught yet. If they were really just going on a tour of all of the museums and stealing things from specific Roman exhibits, they should have been fairly simple enough to track down and stop.
She decided to voice her astonishment. “So this same group has been bouncing from museum to museum and no one has caught them yet?”
“That’s right,” Monica said, her eyes falling shamefully to the floor. “They went after the Castel Sant'Angelo a few nights back. Just like they did with them, they cut the cameras, sometimes, knock out all of the power and alarm systems. The guards who have seen them say that they all wear masks so it's very difficult to identify them. From what they say, it seems like there's always three of them. Which makes sense...”
“Why does that make sense?” Riley asked.
“Because of what they call themselves in those letters they leave. The Third Triumvirate.”
“Pretentious name,” Nina said, rolling her eyes.
Elijah rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. “I’d very much like to read one of those letters if possible.”
“I'll see what we can do,” Monica said.
The exhibits they walked by were some of the most interesting looking displays Nina had ever seen—and she had seen probably dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of museums during her life. She practically lived in them, but this one really stood out among the rest from just its impeccable appearance alone. The displays and plaques were highly detailed and presented in a very clear, concise manner that immediately drew a visitor's eye. That must have been thanks to Santino. He had a flair for showing the real drama of ancient history.
One of the rooms had a floor that showcased the topography of Ancient Rome. It made it so visitors were walking on top of an enormous map. Someone could literally cross the Rubicon like Caesar had, but do it in one single step. Another step, and they could end up in Gaul. It was an impressive image to show just how vast the Roman Empire really was.
Another room had walls that were lined with diagrams of Roman soldier formations, revealing the exact positions warriors would be in to fulfill specific strategies. The room itself was large but relatively empty, except for the legion of mannequins that stood in its center. There were dozens of them, all clad in legionnaire armor. Upon closer inspection, Nina noticed that the models were showing off the proper form of performing a testudo defensive formation, which consisted of soldiers in the front raising their shields while the soldiers behind placed their shields over their heads to protect from projectiles raining down from above. It created almost a box of shields that was difficult to penetrate, meant to evoke the image of a turtle being protected by its shell. Nina had read all about that formation and seen it in pictures and in films but to be standing right in front of it—to see how it would look if you were facing it—was truly special.
“This is ridiculous,” Elijah muttered beside her. He obviously wasn't impressed by the museum like she was. He was looking around at all of the exhibits and items on display with a great deal of pessimism. “This whole place. Of course someone was going to steal something, and of course they would be able to...these artifacts shouldn't be just sitting out here in the open for anyone to take.”
“Oh come on,” Nina said, rolling her eyes. “It's a museum, Elijah. The whole point is to have things out on display for people to see. These artifacts are meant to be visible, not buried in the deep vaults.”
“They would be better off there,” Elijah said. “Given that this place just got broken into and robbed. Kind of proves my point, don't you think? Maybe we should come up with a plan to steal from museums ourselves...make sure we actually lock these priceless items down.”
“That's your brilliant plan?” Nina couldn't help but laugh, pointing at the life-sized model legionnaires. “Kind of a tall order, don't you think? Are we going to take this army with us, too?”
Elijah wasn't amused. He was very serious about his distaste for museums and she was sure he was being mostly serious about wanting to just take all of the exhibit's items and lock them away, too. That was just the type of guy Elijah was. He was pragmatic, even in times when it was unrealistic to be that way.
But they weren't going to start stealing from museums. They weren't going to turn
into the group that was running around and robbing the museums in Rome.
“Dr. Gould!” A voice called from across the hall.
A tan man with well-groomed, curly black hair waved to them. He was dressed in an expensive beige suit that suited his figure well, almost too well, like he had put countless hours into making sure that he looked good. Nina wasn't surprised. Santino Rossi was exactly like she remembered.
“I’m so glad to see you made it!” Santino said, looking very pleased. He went from person to person, shaking their hands and making the introductions. “Your timing isn’t ideal, unfortunately...as I’m sure you could tell by your entrance. The police have been here for hours, asking questions, looking around, although I think they'll be wrapping up their search soon. I'm not sure what they expect to find...fingerprints perhaps...but I highly doubt these thieves are still lingering around the museum.” Santino glanced at the lifeless models dressed in their legionnaire armor and holding their weapons high. “Look at these men...there are so many of them and they're all armed, looking ready to fight...but they couldn't defend my museum.”
“They're mannequins...” Riley said, apparently not registering that Santino was joking.
Santino focused on Nina and flashed a broad smile. “It's been so long. I'm so happy to see you, despite these circumstances. I notice that David Purdue is not among you. He’s usually your companion on your expeditions, is he not?”
“Usually,” Nina said, feeling a sting of nostalgia prick her mind. “But we recently expanded our entire operation. This is my team for this, and I can promise you, they're all very good at what they do.”
“Fantastic,” Santino smiled. “This morning, as I was speaking with these policemen, I considered asking you to instead recover what was taken, but I realize how ridiculous of a request that is. I won't ask you to go chasing after criminals. No, I need your help in finding something lost, not something stolen.”
“The sword of Caesar,” Nina said with a nod. “So you have a clue that might point in the direction of the sword?”
“I do, yes,” Santino said. “Please follow me. Monica, could you find some beverages for our guests?”
Monica didn't look thrilled about being ordered around by Santino but she nodded. “I can, yes.”
“And while I am speaking with our guests, could you be a dear and answer any further questions the investigators have? I’ll be preoccupied with explaining the situation to Dr. Gould and her friends.”
Again, Monica seemed dismayed by having to listen to Santino, but he was her boss so she did as she was told. “It was nice meeting you all.”
She seemed like a nice lady, and despite Santino's materialistic nature, Nina knew that he was a nice enough man, too. It was a shame that they had to deal with people breaking into the museum that they very clearly put a lot of work into preserving.
They followed Santino down into the basement of the museum. It was where they stored any of the new shipments of items that they received. Some were found specifically for the museum by archaeologists they hired to find new attractions. Other things were donated to them by private owners who were kind enough to want to share the pieces of history they owned.
He brought them over to a display case on wheels that looked primed to be taken upstairs and joined all of the other attractions. Inside of the case, there was a brown scroll with old writing on it. A much cleaner white piece of paper was beside it, with a typed up translation of the contents of the scroll beside it.
“This arrived not long ago and the moment I looked it over, I knew that you would want to see it for yourself. Remember how we used to get into those hour long debates about Caesar?” Santino laughed.
“Yeah, I remember,” Nina said. Of course she did. It was all they ever really talked about back in the day. They’d never been close enough to discuss anything too personal. It was only ever about work, about history, and about their shared interest in Ancient Rome. “You acted like Caesar was the greatest man to ever walk the Earth. While I agree that he was incredibly influential...”
“You thought he got more credit than he really deserved,” Santino finished. “You said something like that. I couldn't believe that, but you're not from here, so he doesn't quite have that same national hero quality that he has for people like me. You see him as just another world leader, just another dictator. But Julius Caesar was no Mussolini, I can assure you that. They were two very different kinds of dictators. Mussolini was a tyrant, an imbecile. Caesar was a great man who changed the history of the world. Who knows how much more he could have done if those cowards hadn't stabbed him in the back?”
“Not just the back,” Riley cut in. “All over, from what I remember.”
“A figure of speech, Miss...Duda...was it?” Santino said with a chuckle. “But yes, those traitors' knives found many different parts of his body. Poor man never stood a chance without his weapon.”
There it was. Santino's showmanship that she remembered. He knew how to lead up to what he really wanted to discuss. That kind of talent in building suspense was usually best for novelists or filmmakers but it was what made Santino such a unique purveyor of antiquities. It was what made this museum such a success.
“His weapon, his sword has been lost since his death,” Santino said, mostly for the benefit of August, Riley, and Elijah since he knew that Nina already knew all of this. “There have been many legends about it but the actual weapon has never been discovered. All we have ever known about it was that Caesar supposedly wielded the same sword from when he was a soldier in the legions, through his civil war with Pompey, all the way up until his death. Caesar just never brought it with him to meetings, as was the custom. Unfortunately, those senators that conspired against him didn't care about following that rule. So Caesar was unarmed when he was butchered on the Ides of March.”
Santino looked at Nina and pointed at the display case with the scroll and the transcript inside.
“As I stated on the phone, this scroll came in after being discovered and the contents of it talk about the sword of Caesar. It’s merely one of the only specific references to the sword that has ever actually been found. Proof that it wasn't completely lost.” He waved them over toward the display case. “This letter was a message couriered between Egypt and Rome between Cleopatra and Mark Antony.”
“Really?” Nina was taken aback by those two names. The affair between them played a huge role in the aftermath of Caesar's death and the beginning of the Roman Empire. “From who to whom?”
“From Mark Antony to her. Apparently around the time Mark Antony had taken most of Caesar's belongings after his death. As Caesar's closest ally, and best friend, Mark Antony notoriously saw himself as Caesar's true successor. When Caesar's will named his nephew, Octavian, as his successor and left him a great inheritance...Mark Antony was...a little resistant to just handing a boy such a huge inheritance and responsibility. Really, if you ask me, Antony was just jealous. He didn't give Octavian the items that Caesar had left him for a long time...and even when he did...he evidently didn't give the young man everything. According to this message, he sent the sword far away to Egypt, in the care of Cleopatra.”
It was incredible to hear an actual definitive location. After years of thinking that the sword would be lost forever and it was nothing more than an old fable at this point, it was unbelievable that there was concrete proof of where the sword might have ended up. Nina took a step closer to the display case and read the translated inscription to herself. If it was an accurate translation, then this really could be a big enough clue to launch a proper search for the sword.
“And everything has been validated? Examined? Verified for authenticity?”
“Of course, as we always do. It is...what's that American expression...the real McCoy. The genuine article.”
Elijah joined Nina up by the display case, looking it over himself. He had the most experience of authenticating old relics, but she knew it would take more than a quick glanc
e for him to be sure. She trusted Santino, though. If he said his museum curators made sure it was legitimate, then it was legitimate. Elijah probably wouldn't agree though, considering how he felt about the museum.
“That’s truly remarkable,” Elijah said. “But is it safe?”
“Well of course,” Santino said. “As you can see for yourself.”
“Right, down here perhaps but what about when it's ready to grace the exhibit floors, hmm? Aren't you at all nervous that the people that broke in last night and who have been stealing things all over town might come to snatch something like this away? I saw the extent of your security upstairs and I've got to say...it wasn't very reassuring. Most museums lack an adequate security system, if I'm being honest.”
“That's enough, Elijah,” Nina said, shaking her head.
“It's quite alright, Dr. Gould,” Santino said, his lips twisting into an uneasy smile. “It's a fair enough question after what happened last night. The people who took from us are just a minor problem.”
“They’ve hit numerous museums and have yet to be caught,” Elijah said. “I’d consider that at least a moderate problem, wouldn't you?”
Nina wanted to slap Elijah. She knew he hated museums but he didn't need to be so directly confrontational with Santino. They had two different ways of maintaining historical artifacts. That didn't mean there needed to be a fight. Nina hated that about so many men. It was always a competition when it didn't need to be.
“You may have a point, yes,” Santino said, still trying to be a hospitable host despite the hostility being thrown in his direction. “Perhaps I’d deem this group of thieves to be a moderate problem, yes.”
Elijah looked pleased that he seemed to have won that verbal exchange. “Your floor manager mentioned that the thieves left behind a note. I’d very much like to read it.”
“I'm afraid that the police took it as evidence,” Santino said but Nina could sense that there was more to it than that. Santino's frown was too pronounced, too dramatic. It was part of a show, like so much of what Santino did. That frown twisted into a big grin. “So naturally I took a copy of the letter before they arrived. For my own records, of course.”
Operation Rubicon Page 4
