“And counting.”

Amy spread out the paper she’d taken from the auction house. She ran her fingers over the names. “A professor, a socialite, an art dealer, a guy with a private library. Just what you’d expect. And they all have money. So why would one of them steal it?”

“And why would it stay hidden?” Dan asked. “It’s been eighty years. Why hasn’t someone found it? Why hasn’t someone tried to sell it? It doesn’t make sense.”

Amy frowned. “Attleboro has probably researched these names already.” She reached for the computer. In a moment they saw Evan’s concerned face. Sinead was right at his shoulder.

“McIntyre told us that he brought you to a safe house,” Evan said. “I’m glad you got to crash. We have some background information. Are you ready?”

“Ready,” Amy said.

“Let’s see … Marcel Maubert and Reginald Tawnley both died during the war. But this is interesting – the German professor with all the dough? He became a big guy in the Nazi party. He killed himself – or maybe someone killed him – after the Allies took Berlin in 1945. And Jane Sperling – she was a socialite – her father was Max Sperling, who had a chain of department stores in the Midwest. She was also a medieval scholar – studied at the University of Chicago and then went to Germany. We’re betting that she knew Hummel, because she studied in Heidelberg at the university there.”

“Heidelberg,” Amy said. “Wasn’t that where the family who owned the de Virga was from?”

“That’s right. Interesting coincidence, isn’t it?”

“What happened to Jane Sperling?”

“She moved to London. During the war she worked for the War Department as a secretary. Later, after the war, she married a GI in Maine. Led a quiet life.”

“So there’s not much there,” Dan said.

“We’ll turn up something,” Sinead said. “We just have to keep digging.”

“Have we heard anything from Vesper One?” Dan asked.

“Nothing,” Evan said. “As far as we know everyone is still okay.”