“Can you ask Trista? No, maybe that’s a bad idea.”
“I don’t think she would be helpful. But wait, maybe I know someone who might be.” She reached for her phone and found the Signal app. She dashed off a quick note to Luciano.
A few moments later, her phone buzzed with a call. Her heart skipped a beat when his face appeared on her screen. “Ciao,Aida! Comestai?”
Felix gave her a sly grin. Aida hadn’t told him about Luciano, but she knew Felix would get the story out of her as soon as she ended the call.
She explained their findings to Luciano. “I don’t know if this is just some anomaly. But so many locations I’ve cataloged have disappeared... or been destroyed like thechiesain Val d’Orcia. Has that happened to any of the places you’ve researched?”
His jaw dropped, and he gazed off toward a spot near his feet, lost in thought. “Yes, yes...” he muttered, then turned his attention back to the screen. “France has its own share of earthquakes. I’m sure you’ve heard about the one that destroyed half of Carcassonne three months ago. Then, of course, there was the fire in Notre-Dame this spring. And the Luxor Obelisk at Place de la Concorde. I researched it before it was toppled and destroyed during the first days of the Liberté Révolte protests. But smaller locations... I’m not sure.”
“Think back to your first assignment when you became a Collector,” she said. “What was it?”
His brow knotted. “I, uh...” There was an uncomfortable pause as he stared back at the ground, trying to recall.
Aida let out the breath she had been holding. “You don’t remember, do you?”
“I don’t. This doesn’t make sense. I have an excellent memory.” He gritted his teeth.
“When we met, you told me about a few places you had visited. Aix-les-Bains, vineyards in Château Margaux, and the Sacré-Coeur carousel,” Aida pointed out.
Luciano nodded. “Sì,sì, I did. But I researched those locations in just the last few months, so the memory is quite new. But if I try to remember where I went when I first began working for MODA, that’s harder.Merda!This is very disturbing, Aida. I can’t recall much of what I did in the early part of the job. How can that be? And how haven’t I noticed it before?”
“Maybe this is why MODA doesn’t want you to keep any records?” Felix mused.
“Who is that?” Luciano asked, his eyes widening with concern.
Aida shot Felix a look. She didn’t know if Luciano would be fine with the idea that she had broken the MODA vow of silence about their work. Reluctantly, she turned the phone toward Felix, who waved. “I’m Felix!”
Aida turned the phone back toward her. “He’s an old friend who does guided tours in Rome. He got me the job at MODA. And no, before you ask, he’s not supposed to know any of this. But I trust him. He’s the one that helped me realize some of the places I’ve researched have disappeared.”
“We should be careful,” Luciano said. His voice held a note of warning. “I think MODA might be capable of dangerous things.”
Aida thought about Johannes and his sudden death. “I know. I think that too.”
They chatted for a few more minutes before saying goodbye. “Aida,staiattenta.”Be careful.The video winked out.
That evening Aida went back through her notebook, digging deep into the shorthand about places she’d researched, including the Casa di Goethe. She read about her exchange with Mo, which she didn’t remember at all. How could she not recall when she met him? He was truly unforgettable in every way. Reading the passage was like reading a novel that someone else had written, not words she herself had recorded.
Her heart skipped a beat when she read her notes about the conversation she had with Ilario and Pippa about the Goethe museum closing. She couldn’t recall anything about that, but she did have a perfect memory of the details about Johannes suddenly dying, as well as what Pippa had said before Aida had retired for the night—Always thought there’ssummatdodgygoin’ on, like there’ssomethin’ rotten in the state of Denmark.Only the details about the museum itself were hazy.
Aida didn’t know what was rotten, but she was fairly sure she had stumbled upon the stench left behind.
14
December 2019
“Um, this is unexpected,” Yumi said, her eyes growing round with surprise as they crossed the threshold. The apartment she’d be calling home for the next three weeks was an arresting visual symphony of minimalism and color.
Aida took in the sight: the stark white space cut through by the clean lines of modern furniture, accented with audacious splashes of color—a desk highlighted by blue plexiglass, a rebellious panel of red glass fragmenting the transition to the kitchen, and a solitary yellow triangle setting off the wall around the flat-screen TV. It was an avant-garde heart beating within the chest of a sixteenth-century palazzo, just a stone’s throw from Piazza Navona.
“My friend is an architect,” Felix explained. He handed Yumi the keys. “The Italians... well, their style is rarely understated.” He chuckled.
“I’m just a ten-minute walk from this place,” Aida mentioned while they navigated through the hallway with Yumi’s luggage. “The layout can be a bit of a maze at first, but you’ll map it out in no time.”
Yumi brandished her phone like a talisman against getting lost. “I have GPS for backup.”
Aida exchanged a knowing glance with Felix, and their shared mirth bubbled into laughter.
