Secret Scouts and The Lost Leonardo

by Mr.

  Sophie gave Tom a slap on the shoulder. “You should go. Take Jack with you to the library and see if you can find out anything about how that thing works.”

  “Well, if even my sister says you should do it...” Lisa winked at Tom.

  He shrugged his shoulders. “We’ll see.”

  They heard the scooter again, the muffled sound of its engine slowly fading into the distance. “Lisa, we’ve got to go. The pizzas will be gone cold!”

  “Good luck in the library,” Lisa said, giving Tom an exaggerated slap on the shoulder. Tom walked towards the kitchen door and stood next to Jack.

  “Have fun in Paris,” they said in unison.

  When they walked into the kitchen their mother was slicing the pizza.

  Lisa took a deep sniff, taking in the smell of melted cheese and Italian herbs. She tossed her jacket over the back of a chair and grabbed a slice before she had even sat down. She held it above her face and took a bite. A long string of cheese stuck to her chin. Sophie looked at the string of soft cheese that grew longer and longer as gravity did its work, while her sister just carried on eating, oblivious to the mess. She felt a shiver go down her spine. Her sister’s eating habits always gave her the heebie-jeebies and she tried not to watch her. Instead she went to the hallway to hang up her coat.

  Her father had already devoured half his pizza in a few big bites. His initial hunger satisfied, he turned to the girls. “How did school go this week?

  “Wull, wu hadda...” Lisa replied, trying to talk with her mouth full.

  “Lisa! Stop, please!” said Sophie, demonstratively sticking her fingers in her ears. “Please finish eating before you start talking. And for God’s sake, take the cheese off your chin! Yuck, you’re like a big baby.”

  Lisa shot her sister an irritated look. She swallowed, wiped her chin with her sleeve, and began her story again.

  “We had a pretty good week. As good as good can get, in this boring town, I mean,” she said, grimacing.

  “Whatever,” her mother said, who was clearly in no mood for this well-worn topic of discussion. They all went quiet for a few seconds.

  “On Monday we spent the whole afternoon outside.”

  “At the sawmill, you mean?” Her father looked at her questioningly, at the same time shaking his head slightly in disapproval.

  Lisa pretended not to notice and continued. “If I remember correctly, Sophie and Jack went skateboarding.”

  “Yep,” said Sophie.

  “Yesterday we were late for school. Afterwards we swung by Mrs. Prattle’s. And today was boring.”

  “We were discussing Venice today at school!” Sophie said enthusiastically.

  Lisa let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

  “Oh Lisa, come on, it’ll be your turn next year. And by the way, the school will be celebrating its 100th anniversary next year, so they’ll probably organize a special school trip,” her mother said.

  “I want to go to the sun, to Ca-li-for-ni-yaaaah!”

  “Not a chance, you’re not going to California. If that’s the case, I’ll do the year over again,” joked Sophie.

  “Hey Lisa,” her father said, turning to look at her. “About yesterday. I still haven’t seen that sketch. Go get it, will you? I’d like to have a look.”

  “Yeah, cool Dad. I was just thinking... I think I recognize the style, of painting I mean. I think it’s a sketch by Leonardo da Vinci.”

  Sophie swallowed hard and began to cough. She looked for Lisa’s leg under the table and gave her a hard kick. But it was too late, her father had heard.

  “Leonardo da Vinci?” he asked Lisa. “That would be something else!” he laughed.

  “Yeah. Right after we got it I told Sophie that the sketch looked familiar. I saw something like it in one of your books before. Maybe you know which book?”

  “If you guys have a genuine da Vinci... Hah! If it’s the real thing, then, well... it would be worth millions. But what are the chances of that? As far as I know it’s been a long, long time since anyone discovered a Leonardo.”

  “Dad, if it really is by Leonardo da Vinci, shouldn’t we say something to Mrs. Prattle?”

  “Of course Lisa, in fact we’ll tell the whole world!” Then her father stood up and walked to the door, laughing quietly to himself.

  Sophie gave Lisa a worried look. What was her sister up to this time? She felt her cheeks go red and wanted nothing more than to shove Lisa under a cold shower and scream at her.

  “I’ll be in my study. Will you bring me the sketch later?” their father said.

  The nonchalant way in which he referred to the sketch indicated that he didn’t think it was worth anything. Their mother cleared the table and turned on the dishwasher.

  Lisa stood up feeling excited and seemingly unconcerned that any harm might have been done. “I’m going up to my room.”

  Sophie ran out of the kitchen and caught up with her sister.

  “Before you start,” Lisa said, as she walked into her sister’s bedroom, “there was no other solution.”

  “Why did you say that? Why even mention the name Leonardo da Vinci?” Sophie asked, still in shock and not in the least bit convinced.

  “I remembered at the dinner table that I’d already said it looked familiar. You were talking about Leonardo da Vinci this afternoon, about the book and all and... while we were eating it suddenly hit me. The sketch looks like one of the pages from that book. That’s why I said it.”

  “But... but...” Sophie said, stunned. “But still, why not discuss it with me first? Why mention the name to Dad?”

  “Hello! Dad’s an art historian! He advises companies and rich and powerful people about what art to buy. He knows everything about art! He has a library full of books. If it’s real, he’ll see it immediately. There’s no getting around that. That’s only if it is a real Leonardo, of course, and we don’t know that yet,” Lisa said. She widened her stance and put her hands on her hips, attempting to add some weight to her words.

  Sophie thought about it. Maybe Lisa was right. There was nothing they could do. If the Leonardo was genuine, their father would recognize it.

  “He’s been asking to see it since yesterday. I mean, there’s no harm telling half the truth, is there?”

  “You’re right,” Sophie said, “but next time discuss your plans with me first, then at least I’ll know what’s coming. I was so surprised I almost choked. The pizza nearly burned a hole in my throat.”

  “Don’t you think the timing’s pretty strange – us getting a sketch from Mrs. Prattle that just happens to look like the stuff in the book?” Sophie was hoping for a reaction from her sister, but all she did was shrug her shoulders.

  Lisa picked up the sketch from where it had been leaning against the bed. “The moment of truth.”

  “If it’s real, we’re going to have to give it back to Mrs. Prattle. You know that means we’ll lose all the money,” Sophie said quietly.

  “It won’t come to that. All Dad said was that we should tell her about it. He said nothing about returning it. And of course it’s only fair that Mrs. Prattle gets her share. The sketch belonged to her first. Anyway, what difference does it make? We have the book, and if it’s worth more than thirty million dollars, then that’s more money than we could ever earn in a lifetime. Even if we split it with Jack and Tom.”

  Sophie nodded. Thirty million! They’d all be mega rich. It was at the moments like these that she loved her sister the most. Lisa could drive everyone up the wall at times, but there was no one more honest than she was.

  “Dad, here it is.” Lisa walked into her father’s study holding the sketch out in front of her. Sophie came in behind her, unconsciously chewing on a thumbnail. She was almost exploding with curiosity.

  Their father stood up, took the sketch in both hands, and set it down carefully on his desk, next to a neatly stacked pile of books about Leonardo da Vinci.

  With his left hand he turned up the desk lamp so that it illumi
nated the sketch brightly. He sat down and tilted the sketch towards him.

  “Hmm, I don’t know this work. I just had a look through a few books. It’s certainly not a sketch I’m familiar with, but I wasn’t expecting it to be.” He looked up as he spoke.

  He bent his head forward again to inspect the drawing closely. It was so quiet in the room that Sophie and Lisa could hear their father breathing.

  “I have to admit, it does resemble Leonardo’s work. Well spotted, Lisa.”

  Lisa looked pleased.

  “The frame looks newer than the sketch. This side is a bit loose. Maybe because someone tried to remove the sketch from the frame.”

  “That’s our fault, Dad,” Lisa said honestly. Sophie and I were both holding it and when we pulled it that piece of the frame suddenly came loose.”

  Her father looked a bit annoyed. “Imagine if this thing is real...” he said, turning the frame over to see if it could be easily opened at the back. “Sorry girls, this is going to have to wait.”

  “Oh Dad!” Lisa moaned.

  “No Lisa, listen. If – and I emphasize the word IF – if this is a genuine Leonardo, then it’s very unique. However, I don’t think it is, regardless of how much it resembles his work. I’m more inclined to think it’s a very good copy. But if it is the real thing, then it’s extremely important that we handle it with care. To safely remove the drawing from the frame I’ll need my equipment. If it is real, then we must absolutely avoid damaging it or leaving any fingerprints. It could be phenomenally valuable, including from a historical perspective.”

  He looked at them and put the sketch down again. “By the way, before you start sharing this with all your friends online – remember, I know you, as the discoverers of the treasure...” their father laughed. Sophie and Lisa started to giggle as if he had somehow caught them red-handed. “I don’t want to disappoint you, but the chances that it is authentic... well, the odds are really, really small. I mean it. To be honest, it’s pretty inconceivable that a Leonardo has been hanging on Mrs. Prattle’s wall for years. And then all of a sudden she gives it to you. You realize that, right? So let’s just assume it’s a replica.”

  He took one of the books from the pile. “Look at this...” He flipped through the book until he found what he was looking for.

  “Lisa, you remembered it correctly. See? These are texts and drawings in Leonardo’s hand. As far as I can judge, given the glass and all, the materials and technique of the sketch look exactly like the images in this book. Even the handwritten scribbles resemble Leonardo’s.” Their father’s finger moved between the sketch and the images in the book.

  “As you can see, the texts are written in mirror-image, like they are here, which was typical of Leonardo’s work. But, like I said, the chances that this is authentic are extremely small.”

  Sophie and Lisa looked a little deflated. This wasn’t the answer they had been hoping for.

  Their father saw their disappointment and said, “When we’re back from Paris I’ll bring my tools home with me on Monday and we’ll have another look. That’s a promise!”

  Lisa wanted to take the sketch again, but her father stopped her.

  “It’s best to leave it here. Tonight I’ll see if I can find more information about Leonardo’s work. We need to handle this carefully.”

  “But you just said that...” Sophie looked at her father in dismay.

  “Girls, let’s leave it here. It’s sitting safely on my desk. I’ll have another look tonight and on Monday I’ll remove it carefully from the frame. Okay, off you go. Bedtime in half an hour.”

  Just then their mother entered the study. “Exactly. Chop-chop,” she said.

  Sophie and Lisa grumpily made their way up the stairs.

  Their mother looked at the ceiling, the girls’ footsteps resonating through the floorboards.

  “Well, is it anything special?” she asked her husband.

  “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t think so, I mean, it’s inconceivable, a Leonardo and Mrs. Prattle. How could something like that end up there?”

  “The girls think it’s real,” she said.

  “Of course they do. If I were their age I’d think the same. It’s very exciting. And yes, it could be authentic, but there are countless replicas floating around these days. In any event, I promised them I’d bring home the right tools on Monday and open up the frame. I’m not going to attempt that without the right equipment. If it turns out to be a real Leonardo da Vinci, I don’t want to end up being remembered as the art historian who destroyed a priceless old masterpiece.” He couldn’t help but laugh at his own words.

  Upstairs, the girls ran into Sophie’s room together. “He doesn’t think it’s real,” said Sophie first.

  “I don’t think Dad really knows. We’ll just have to wait until Monday,” replied Lisa. “Let’s scan a few pages now and send them to Jack.”

  “Sure, but what do you think? Is it just a coincidence that we discovered a Leonardo da Vinci book and a sketch by him on the same day?” Sophie raised an eyebrow for extra emphasis. “Or...” suddenly feeling inspired, “or... Mrs. Prattle’s sketch is the missing page from the book!”

  “Yeah, I thought of that, too, but there are several pages missing, not just one, and the sketch is also a lot bigger than one of those pages, so it’s still a bit weird. Either way, I just hope it turns out to be real. It looks like the real thing,” Lisa said.

  Sophie opened her desk drawer and pulled out the book. She turned to the page with the orrery.

  “Here! One... two... three... It looks like a new chapter starts three pages before the drawing of the orrery. I think that’s where the description of the device starts, the planetarium.”

  Lisa glanced at the book and nodded.

  “I’m going to send Jack the pages from that chapter.” Sophie grabbed her telephone and took pictures of all the pages.

  “Take a picture of the one on the right as well, it could be part of the same chapter.”

  Sophie studied the page carefully. The frayed edges were clearly visible between the right-hand page Lisa was pointing at and the left-hand page with the drawing of the orrery. Sophie flipped a few pages ahead to see if there was anything else.

  “You might be right about that page on the right. It’s probably the last page of the chapter. The next page seems to have a title on it, like it’s the beginning of a new chapter.”

  Pleased with their discovery, Sophie took another photo of the right-hand page and began opening up her apps one by one so that she could transform the pages into something they could actually read. When she was finished translating the last page, she grouped all the images together and sent them to Jack.

  Thursday, June 19th, morning

  Lisa was sitting in the back seat of the car. The early morning chill didn’t bother her. A pair of dark leggings with a striking flame print kept her legs nice and warm. She was listening to music and the motion of the car was making her feel a little bit drowsy. Her thoughts, however, were racing.

  Her feet dangled just above the floor in the back of the car and she tapped her heels against the seat to the rhythm of the music. The flame print on her leggings extended from her ankle boots all the way up to her long black shirt.

  What did people wear in the old days, she wondered. It was all nonsense, of course, that ridiculous thing in the secret room, but still. Imagine if it were true, that they could travel through time and end up in the Middle Ages next week. What kind of clothes should she wear? She couldn’t possibly show up at a castle in her present outfit. When they opened the port to let her in, they’d grab her and throw her in a dungeon, or burn her at the stake. She closed her eyes. What did a castle actually look like in the Middle Ages?

  Lisa missed her laptop. She missed having a mobile phone, too. She’d get one after the summer, one like Sophie’s. Until then she’d have to sit back and watch how easy it made her sister’s life.

  Robin Hood, Lord of the Rings �
�� scenes from famous films flashed through her head. There was a good chance the castle’s door would be made of solid wood. Dark brown, with big rusty nails and a peephole at eye level. When someone knocked they’d have to look through the slit first to see who was there.

  In her mind’s eye she sees herself standing there in the dark, in front of an enormous door. She knocks tentatively at first. No answer. Using her fists she then knocks much harder. The castle’s residents probably have to walk from the other side of the castle, which explains why it takes them so long to open up. Suddenly a slit opens in the door. An old man with long gray hair stares at her, perplexed. The studs on her boots sparkle in the moonlight. Lisa gives the man a friendly smile, but he slams the slit closed. She then hears him screaming behind the door.

  “Get the horses and the swords! A witch, as black as the night, with legs of fire!”

  No, Lisa thought, things wouldn’t end well if they approached it like this. If they did decide to travel through time, they’d first have to figure out where they were going and what they should wear. Lisa smiled. The drive to Paris had possibly saved her and her friends from being burned at the stake.

  She looked out from under her eyelashes. Her father was holding the steering wheel with his left hand while his other hand tapped out a rhythm. An art historian with a passion for electronic dance music. If she had read that somewhere, she wouldn’t have believed it.

  She felt comfortable. Traveling by car was relaxing, it brought clarity. Everyone in their own space, but all heading in the same direction. She closed her eyes again and lost herself in the music. She thought of all the places they would go if they could travel through time.

  Sophie stared at the trees racing by. She twitched her toe for every tree they passed, counting. When she reached one hundred, she started again. This gave her thoughts structure. She thought about the sketch, the room, the book, the planetarium, Mrs. Prattle, and the ermine. What was written on the pages she had sent Jack? She checked her phone. Nine-thirty. No email from Jack. He and Tom were at school, of course. Maybe they had seen the email last night? Maybe they already had more information, had figured something out?