The Girl With the Botticelli Eyes Read Online Free PDF Page B

an Old Testament prophet. One of the pale blue eyes was covered with a gray, milky cataract, like the blank, sightless orb of a dead fish.
    The clochard. held his hat up to Manship and smiled, flapping it at him, while at the same time revealing a mouthful of ruined teeth. Manship fumbled in his pockets and scooped up a few francs, which he dropped into the hat. When he stepped back out of the alley, the sun had once more flooded the Rue du Bac, and moving down the street, Manship could still hear the thin, reedy strains of the ocarina behind him.
    Back at his hotel, Manship. went directly to his room and placed a transatlantic call to Osgood.
    “Can you hear me, Bill?”
    “Just barely. It’s a lousy connection. Where are you?”
    “Still in Paris.”
    “The Pallavicini business?”
    “You heard?”
    “It’s bizarre,” Osgood said. “I don’t like the sound of it.”
    “The next move should be Scotland Yard and Interpol.”
    “Is it that serious?”
    “I can’t be sure,” said Manship. “But first Istanbul, then Rome. And just now something pretty strange here.” Manship proceeded to tell him about the DeMornay incident on the Boulevard Raspail. “With DeMornay, however, I take the story with a grain of salt. Probably nothing to it. At any rate, I hope to reach Berlin later today for one last crack at those three missing drawings.”
    “You think there’s a chance?”
    “Who knows? I’ve got one card left to play. It would be a shame not to at least try while I’m here.”
    “I don’t know, Mark. This thing in Rome and Istanbul … What do you make of it?”
    “I don’t know what to make of it,” Manship said, loosening his collar and kicking off his shoes. “You think they’re connected?”
    “We spoke to Lloyd’s today,” Osgood hurried on, “about increasing our coverage.”
    “Probably wise;” Manship reflected aloud. “While we’re on the subject of money, I’ll need some additional funds.”
    There was the sound of a throat being cleared, followed by a yawning silence from the other side of the Atlantic. Finally, Osgood spoke. “I was up to see Van Nuys Tuesday. I brought up the matter of more money. He practically laughed in my face. We’ve already exhausted most of the usual sources—the National Endowment, Pepsico, the Wallace Funds.”
    “Was it a complete negative?”
    “I wouldn’t say complete.”
    Manship took a deep breath. “How much?”
    There was another clearing of the throat. “A hundred and seventy-five. Maybe two hundred at the outside.”
    “I need more.” Manship felt a rush of heat beneath his collar. “I had to pay a hundred above what I’d planned to in London.”
    “A hundred?”
    “Some old samurai was bidding me up. And then DeMornay decided to roll me for ‘unspecified’ services …”
    Osgood made a clucking sound that might have been either disgust or despair. “What’s left in the kitty?”
    “About two hundred and fifty thousand.”
    “With the new funds, you should have between four hundred and four fifty.”
    “What happens if I get lucky and locate the three drawings?”
    “Try to arrange for a loan, with an option to buy somewhere down the line.”
    “If we do that, we’re going to lose them.”
    There was another pause; then Osgood spoke. “I’m afraid you’re just going to have to make do, Mark.” Osgood sounded rushed. “I’ve something to tell you. There’s been a development here.”
    “A development?” Manship’s antennae rose. He saw red flags waving. “Van Nuys called me in yesterday. Very excited. Apparently, they’ve located a woman in Florence. Supposed to be the great-great-great—I don’t know how many—granddaughter of the Simonetta …”
    “Oh Christ,” Manship groaned.
    “I know what you’re thinking. But the lady has documents, credentials, family heirlooms.”
    “So did a half dozen Anastasias.”
    “Granted. It sounds far-fetched, but this is different. This one’s the real