Free The Keeper of Secrets by Julie Thomas Page A

before the war, and his papa was a banker. His family had a music room with lots of beautiful old instruments, and two of them were violins. But the Nazis took everything away, the house and the bank, and he got sent to a camp.”
    “That’s very sad. And one of these violins was a Guarneri?”
    Daniel laid his spoon down on the saucer.
    “Yep, a Guarneri del Gesú and an Amati. That’s what Poppa told me. He was very proud of them. He used to play the Guarneri when he was my age.”
    “Do you know what year your Guarneri was?”
    Daniel frowned; it was something he should remember. Whenever his poppa started to talk about it, his nana always found a reason to change the conversation.
    “Seventeen twenty-something; I forget the exact year.”
    In one fluid movement Rafael sprang to his feet. He held his hand out to Daniel, and his excitement was obvious. “Come with me. I have something to show you!”
    Daniel got up and hesitated, looking at Mags.
    “Come on, hurry,” Rafael ordered. They could hear the impatience in his voice. Mags gave a sigh.
    “Okay, okay, we’re coming. Better do as he says.” She flashed a smile at Daniel.
    Rafael walked them at a rapid pace to the lift and down to a dressing room. In one corner stood a large stereo system and a stack of CDs. He hunted through the pile, reading labels and tossing them aside.
    “Raffy?” Mags stood with Daniel, watching. “What on earth are you doing?”
    “Looking for . . . ” His voice trailed off, then he found it and held it out toward them. “This. You must listen to this.” He loaded the CD into the player and flicked through the tracks.
    “Come here, Daniel. This is a 1742 Guarneri. This is Maestro Yehudi Menuhin playing the Lord Wilton.”
    The allegro from Bach’s Concerto in E filled the room. Daniel felt the same sensation of wonder returning. It was a magical sound, urgent and sumptuous and yet wistful at the same time, and it completely engulfed him. Rafael instinctively began to conduct the orchestra, using smooth, broad movements to reflect the undulating music. Daniel was as fascinated by the man’s agile body, and his expressive hands responding to the melody, as he was by the sound. The allegro reached its conclusion and Rafael sank to the ground, obviously spent by the emotion. When he looked up at Daniel, he was grinning with delight.
    “That is your heritage, my boy. That is the sound you should be making, a genuine Guarneri. Then you would play and, oh my God, what a sound you would make! Everyone would stop to listen. You are a once-in-a-generation talent. Don’t you see? It is the gift from your poppa. We must find that violin and we will find your heritage, Dan. Then you’ll play for the whole world.”

Chapter 10
    Monte Carlo
    September 2008
    O n the last day of the symposium Rafael had chosen and announced which of the astonishingly talented musicians would perform at Sergei Valentino’s gala night, raising money for the Russian’s favorite charities. Sergei rotated the venue around his homes and this year it was the turn of his hilltop villa in Monte Carlo.
    Countess Ludevica de Savilla was a remarkably well-preserved eighty-year-old, with soft skin, delicious caramel-colored hair, and deep-set, cornflower-blue eyes. Not for the first time Rafael wondered if her carefully lacquered chignon would taste like the spun cotton candy he’d bought Cristina every year at the upstate county fair when she was a small girl. He pulled his mind back to what she was saying.
    “. . . so we thought this year we’d run a book on it. Would you care to have a guess, Maestro? Five hundred euros and you’re in.” Her voice was deep and throaty. He chuckled.
    “Me? Now, what makes you think that I am a gambling man, Countess?”
    “Oh, come now, dear boy. We’re only a mile from the most gorgeous casino on earth. How many years have you been coming to darling Sergei’s bashes, and you’ve never ventured inside the Monte