Free The Keeper of Secrets by Julie Thomas

conspiratorially.
    Talking to the maestro didn’t feel like talking to an important adult; somehow it felt like he was just a friend who loved music, like he could say anything, Daniel thought. It was a satisfying thought.
    “Who’s the man you were talking to at the intermission?” Daniel asked suddenly. Rafael stopped eating.
    “And why do you want to know that?”
    “I saw him again, this morning. That’s what I wanted to tell you. He interrupted Miss Wong’s class.” The sandwich dropped to the plate, and Daniel knew he had the maestro’s complete attention.
    “Tell me what exactly happened, son. Everything you can remember.”
    “Well, Maria asked Tatiana to play and she did—Mozart—but it wasn’t the same violin. This one was ordinary.”
    “No, the Guarneri is back in the safe.”
    “He just came crashing in, with some woman telling him to leave. Tatiana had put her violin away but he told her to play, yelled at her. She looked really scared. Like she thought he was going to steal it. She ran out. But we told him that it wasn’t the same violin.”
    “What did he do then?”
    “Nothing, he just left. Who is he?”
    “His name is Roberto di Longi and he’s not a bad man, very intense, but not bad. He’s a restorer and a dealer and he lives in London. He is a true expert. You know, I think he knows more about violins than anyone else I’ve ever met. Like any expert, he will tell you he can recognize any violin, only by its sound and the wood grain. But with Roberto I am more inclined to believe him, what he says, because he really, truly knows his violins.”
    “So why is he mad at Tatiana?”
    “He’s not mad at her; he is mad about the violin. It is a Guarneri del Gesú. We all know that much for sure. Sergei assures us the label says 1729, but Roberto, he is convinced it is actually a 1742, and every time he hears it, he tells me once again how convinced he is.”
    Daniel was eating slowly and watching him. Mags was sipping her coffee, also watching her husband with renewed interest.
    “Do you think he could be right?” she asked.
    “Don’t know . . . maybe. If anyone can tell, he can.”
    “Does it matter?”
    “If he’s right, it matters very much. Seventeen forty-two is accepted as the best year; Guarneri del Gesú made his greatest ones ever then. He made only thirteen and they’re all accounted for, except for the famous missing one. Destroyed in the war, they think, but no one knows for sure. When 1742s change hands, they sell for millions of dollars. Dan, have you read about Il Cannone?”
    Daniel nodded, pleased he’d paid attention in the musical history classes.
    “Paganini played it.”
    “He did indeed; it’s a 1743, and the Lord Wilton, a 1742, and the sound, it is exquisite, sublime. You know, the Valentino family has owned this Guarneri for many years and Sergei assures me it is a 1729. A genuine Guarneri certainly, but one made in 1729. So one of them is wrong.”
    “How many Guarneri violins are there in the world, altogether?” Daniel asked.
    “About two hundred and fifty by Giuseppe. There were several others in the family and they all made violins. But he was the master.”
    “Do they know where all of Giuseppe’s violins are?”
    “Pretty much all, I think. I am not an expert in this,” Rafael admitted with a wry smile.
    “But I could probably find out if I wanted, couldn’t I? On the Internet.”
    “Sure, most of them. Some will be in private collections. Why this interest, Dan?”
    Daniel was licking the last of the ice cream off his spoon.
    “We had a Guarneri del Gesú once. But we lost it.”
    Rafael stirred his coffee slowly and didn’t look up. Daniel wondered if the maestro thought that he couldn’t see the interest the man was trying to hide. Adults could be very obvious when they were trying too hard to be subtle.
    “We?” Rafael asked. Something in his tone of voice made Mags look at him sharply.
    “My poppa. He grew up in Germany