The violin fell silent. At length, Anna said, “I never played theDevil’s Trillbetter than I did that night.”
“Why do you suppose that was?”
“Fear, I imagine. Or perhaps it had something to do with the fact that I was falling in love.” She played the sonata’s languid opening passage, then stopped abruptly. “Were you ever able to find him?”
“Who?”
“The Englishman, of course.”
Gabriel hesitated, then said, “No.”
Anna eyed him down the barrel of the violin’s neck. “Why are you lying to me?”
“Because if I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me.” He looked at the violin. “What happened? Did you get tired of the Stradivarius and the Guarneri?”
“This one isn’t mine. It’s an early-eighteenth-century Klotz on loan from the estate of its original owner.”
“Who was that?”
“Mozart.” She displayed the violin vertically. “He abandoned it in Salzburg when he came to Vienna. I’m going to use it to record his five violin concertos the minute it’s safe to go back into the studio. Unlike most older violins, it was never upgraded in the nineteenth century. Its sound is very smooth and veiled.” She offered it to Gabriel. “Would you like to hold it?”
He declined.
“What’s wrong? Are you afraid you’re going to drop it?”
“Yes.”
“But you touch priceless objects all the time.”
“A Titian, I can repair. But not that.”
She placed the violin beneath her chin and played an arresting, dissonant double-stop from Tartini’s sonata. “You’re dripping on my floor.”
“That’s because you intentionally made me stand in the rain.”
“You should have brought an umbrella.”
“I never carry umbrellas.”
“Yes,” she said distantly. “It’s one of the things I remember most about you, along with the fact that you always slept with a gun on the bedside table.” She placed the violin carefully in its case and folded her arms beneath her breasts. “What does one do in a situation like this? Shake hands or exchange a passionless kiss?”
“One uses the excuse of the pandemic to keep one’s distance.”
“What a shame. I was hoping for a passionless kiss.” She laid her hand atop the Bechstein Sterling grand piano. “I have been involved with many men in my life—”
“Many,” agreed Gabriel.
“But never has one vanished so thoroughly as you.”
“I was trained by the best.”
“Do you remember how long you stayed at my villa in Portugal?”
“Six months.”
“Six months and fourteen days, actually. And yet I’ve received not a single phone call or email in all these years.”
“I’m not a normal person, Anna.”
