by Eric Flint
Lewis bristled. "If he knew that it blackened paper, and still did not list it in his chapter on inks, then surely that means that no one in his day used it for that purpose. It was merely a curiosity."
"But what was a mere curiosity in his day might have been a standard ink of the Etruscans." Curzio paused. "Please assume, for the sake of argument, that this was the case. Would you then have any reason to doubt the authenticity of the chrysali?" Curzio beamed triumphantly at his buddies in the courtroom. For someone who professed to have no interest in law, he certainly seemed to enjoy playing lawyer.
Lewis gave Curzio a long stare. "Yes, I would." He turned to face the grand duke. "I have been asked to assume that the ink used by the Etruscans was the gall-green vitriol ink with which we are all familiar. It is only in this way that the Inghiramis can explain the chemical behavior of the supposedly Etruscan ink.
"But let us now consider the physical characteristics of the two types of inks. If it is a carbon-based ink, then the black matter of the ancient ink remains on the surface, where it can readily be scraped off. Indeed, that is why you can use ancient manuscripts as palimpsests.
"On the other hand, if it is a gall-based ink, then that is not so easy. The acid from the galls bites into the paper, carrying the black matter with it. Hence, after sufficient passage of time, the writing cannot be readily removed. That is why this ink is preferred for official documents.
"So, let us make trial of the ink on the first message exhibited by Curzio, as it is known to been on the cloth for several months." Lewis took out a knife, and scraped at the linen.
"Aha! It does not come out easily. But let me do the same to the samples I prepared before. Examine the scraped areas with the magnifying glass, and it is manifestly evident. Curzio's ink penetrated deeply, like a modern galled ink, and unlike an ancient ink formed from soot.
"But, wait! I was instructed to assume arguendo that the Etruscans had a ink made from green vitriol and galls. That assumption leads us down a path which Curzio would have been wiser to leave unthought of.
"One unfortunate problem with these galled inks is that, because of their acidic nature, they corrode away the writing surface. I have ascertained experimentally that linen fabric is just as vulnerable to acid damage as is rag paper. The curator of the collection here has shown me rag-paper manuscripts which were a mere four hundred years old, and in which the ink had chewed its way entirely through the leaf, leaving a hole. Only inked portions of the paper were so affected.
"I was also shown a map, perhaps two centuries old, which was folded so that the heavily inked compass rose was brought into contact with an area which originally was blank. The vitriol from the rose left a scorch mark on the latter.
"But the young gentleman would have us believe that a linen could be written upon with a galled ink sixteen hundred years ago, yet show not a iota of damage. This is beyond belief."
Curzio was not ready to concede that the ink could not be Etruscan. "The papers were not exposed to the elements, but rather were sealed within a protective bubble of tar. Perhaps that curbed the acid."
Lewis had anticipated this argument. Indeed, he suspected that Curzio, when "designing" the chrysalis, had used the tar specifically in order to provide a ready excuse for the survival and fine state of preservation of the "Etruscan" writings.
"The tar would have protected the cloth from the air, and thus from normal aging. But the acid was already on the cloth, brought in by the ink, and it did not require air to function. Indeed, alchemists will acidify materials inside a hermetically-sealed retort. I have placed flax fibers inside a stoppered test tube and demonstrated that they are attacked by acid."
Murmur, murmur. Curzio turned to speak quietly with one of the scholars hired by his family. Finally, he came out of this huddle and said, "we believe you mentioned that the soot-based ink was the principal one used in ancient times. However, that implies that there were other inks. My venerable colleague here informs me that one such ink was that of the cuttlefish, in Latin, sepia. Have you tested that ink?"
"No, but if I am provided with the cuttlefish, and shown how to remove the ink sac and extract the ink, then I will test that sepia ink in the same way that I did the carbon ink." Obviously, Lewis didn't trust Curzio not to tamper with the sample.
Curzio coughed. "Is it not possible that the Etruscan scribe wrote with an iron stylus, rather than a quill or reed? If so, could there not have been an alchemical contagion of the ink with the qualities of the stylus? Could your reagents, then, have been quivering in sympathy with that accidental iron, rather than with green vitriol in the ink proper?"
Lewis bit his lip. "An iron stylus is hard; very few atoms of iron would be released into the ink and fabric. The color change I observed was too pronounced to be the result of that trivial sort of contamination."
"But since you did not carry out your test with an iron stylus, you don't know that."
"I can modify the test and find out."
"But are there not other problems? We know from Pliny's Historia Naturalis that some ink was made from charring bones which once lay in the earth. Who knows what metals could have been absorbed before these bones were converted into ash? Or whether the presence of those metals could have affected the alchemical properties of an ink made from that ash?" Curzio spread his hands, as if to emphasize the vast number of possibilities still untested by Lewis.
"Proving a negative is very difficult," said Lewis drily. "But it is your burden to prove to us that these artifacts are authentic, and I don't think you have succeeded.
"Indeed, let us look us look closely at this Etruscan of yours. He is a high-ranking priest, living at a time when the Etruscans were Roman subjects, yet he speaks Latin like a schoolboy. He also has trouble remembering his history lessons.
"He demonstrates his individuality by writing Etruscan from left to right, as if he were Roman, or Tuscan, rather than in the traditional Etruscan direction.
"According to my chemical tests, his ink is of the modern kind, which contains iron and acid, yet the linen is undamaged by the vitriol. To explain this, Curzio first suggests that the Etruscans had in fact used galls and green vitriol to make ink. When I showed that a modern ink, over the course of nineteen hundred years, would eat great holes in the linen, Curzio changed his tune.
"The ink was of an ancient kind, after all, but the iron was imparted by the Etruscan's iron-tipped pen or by some iron implement lying in the earth.
"So have these mysterious Etruscan iron-tipped pens been referred to by the Roman and Greek authors? Have any been found by other excavators? And how could iron in the soil have affected chrysali which weren't actually buried?"
Lewis turned to face Curzio directly. "So, Signore Inghirami. In view of the evidence presented, are you willing to concede the possibility that you have been deceived by some forger, and withdraw your request for a decree of authenticity?"
Curzio conferred with his family. "The evidence you have presented is inconclusive. It is insufficient basis for overturning the finding of the Provedditore of Volterra, Tommasso de Medici." Bit of name-dropping there, thought Lewis.
Lewis approached Fredinand. "As your consulting detective, I would like to discuss with you privately as to how best to proceed from here." Ferdinand nodded.
"It is already late in the day," declared the grand duke. "We will recess until tomorrow." The crowd filed out of the courtroom.
* * *
Lewis was closeted with Ferdinand. "Do you presently think these artifacts are authentic?"
"I am not sure what to think. You have built a strong case against them," Ferdinand admitted. "And if they are false, then Curzio would be the most likely culprit. It could not be one of the tenant farmers; they wouldn't know how to write Latin and they wouldn't know about the Etruscans' linen books. It couldn't have been a stranger; his presence would have been noted, sooner or later. And it could not have been buried many years ago by one of Curzio's ancestors, as t
hey would not have known of the Ring of Fire.
"Still, it is difficult for me to believe that Curzio Inghirami, a young gentleman of a distinguished family, would stoop to forging an antiquity."
"Perhaps it was a beffa, a practical joke, which got out of hand," Lewis suggested.
Ferdinand winced. "I have only ruled Tuscany for five years. Inghiramo and Giulio are Knights of the Order of Saint Stephen, and Giulio is one of the more influential nobles in my realm. They cannot, without losing honor, admit that a member of their family, whose cause they have strongly espoused, is a forger. And thus far they are unwilling to even concede that Curzio has been deceived. What would your Sherlock Holmes do?"
Lewis mulled over the many Holmes stories he had read over the years. There was A Scandal in Bohemia. And The Norwood Builder. Both times, Holmes used a false threat to panic a criminal into doing something unwise.
Could Lewis bluff the Inghiramis into accepting the lesser offense of having been deceived by person or persons unknown? Curzio didn't know what up-time forensic science could do, or which of its tools Lewis could duplicate here and now. Or did he? Since coming to Volterra, Lewis had heard rumors that Curzio had visited Grantville.
Of course, it was not enough just to claim, say, that up-timers could date the linen. Mere words would not be enough. There had to be a dramatic demonstration of some kind, so the Ighiramis could visualize how the courtroom scene would play out in the end.
When Lewis explained what he had in mind, Ferdinand was delighted. Lewis went off to collect the necessary materials, and then sat down with Ferdinand to prepare the first part of the "demonstration."
* * *
The next morning, Lewis told the court about a new way to test the authenticity of the Inghirami artifacts. "In 1686, 'old time line,' your fellow Italian, Marcello Malpighi, reported that on our fingers, we have minute ridges and valleys which form distinct patterns. He recognized three basic configurations which we now call ridges, spirals and loops." Lewis paused for a moment, wondering whether Malpighi had been born before the Ring of Fire had changed the flow of time and, if so, what he would do with his talents in the new world which it had created.
"Hundreds of years later, it was recognized that, if these patterns are examined closely enough, they are distinctive to a particular individual. Even identical twins have different patterns.
"Now, it turns out that when we touch something with our fingers, our sweat leaves an impression of those ridges. The resulting fingerprint may be obvious, as when a dying man, his hand covered in blood, touches a wall, or it may be cryptic. Up-time police forces have found that with certain powders or vapors, they can render a latent fingerprint visible. I am prepared to offer proof of this, should this court desire it.
"Fingerprint evidence was routinely accepted in up-time courts, throughout the world, as proof of identity. Or lack of identity."
Curzio rose to his feet. "Setting aside the alleged practices of the future, this evidence has never been accepted as proof by the most Holy Church, or by any prince of this world. Is that not true?"
"Actually, I would direct the learned nobleman to the Second Epistle to the Thessalonians, which says, 'The salutation of Paul with mine own hand, which is the token in every epistle: so I write.' That is a clear reference to the use of an entire hand print for identification. There are patterns on the palm, not just the fingers. The Book of Job says, 'He sealeth up the hand of every man; that all men may know his work.' That means that men can know each other just by properly examining their hands.
"I have also read, admittedly in up-time books, that the Chinese emperors have used fingerprints for identification purposes for a thousand years."
"Very well, but I don't see the relevance of fingerprints to this proceeding."
"It is implicit in this proceeding that there is a possibility that the artifacts, rather than being Etruscan, are a fabrication. If they are a fabrication, they must have been created by a person, or group of persons, who can write Latin, has seen some Etruscan inscriptions, and has access to sites where the artifacts were found. Moreover, the fourth artifact must have been created after the Ring of Fire, in 1631.
"Conceivably, that person is a stranger. But in our quest to determine the truth, we must entertain the possibility that he or she is a member of the Inghirami household, or of one of their tenant families. Consequently, I intend to take the fingerprints of every one of these individuals and compare them to the fingerprints on the Etruscan writings."
"But of course we have fingerprints on the cloths!" Curzio exploded. "I broke open the chrysali; I held the ancient writings in my hands. I gave them to my father, and Father Valdorini, and my friend Raffaelo, to hold and study. Many others, even perhaps the grand duke himself, have done the same."
"That is true for most of the chrysali. But there were several which you were kind enough to offer to the grand duke so that he could open himself. The contents of those chrysali will bear the fingerprints only of your Etruscan. Or, if they are false, the hoaxer.
"His Grace magnanimously offered to set an example by letting me take his prints. So, too, did Niccolo and Lorenzo Cavriani."
Ferdinand recognized his cue. "All three were different in some way. Even though the Cavrianis are father and son."
"I will then take the prints of every individual known to us who could possibly have participated in the hoax. From the Inghiramis down to the meanest laborer." What Lewis didn't tell them was that the art of classifying fingerprints required great skill and experience, in order to find all the distinguishing minutiae. Skill and experience which Lewis didn't have.
"Once this information has been collected, and I have classified the prints according to their patterns, I propose to have His Grace slice open those virgin chrysali. He and I will, together, examine with a magnifying glass the fingerprints found on the sticky inner surface of the tarry container, as well as those on the linen itself. It is finely woven, so that it can be written on, which means that it is more likely than a coarse fabric to bear a clean impression."
This was the most delicate point, Lewis knew. It was in fact extremely difficult to detect a latent impression on fabric. Prior to the hearing, Lewis had experimented with various powders, unsuccessfully. He could sometimes develop a latent print on linen by placing it in a container with iodine crystals, laboriously extracted from seaweed. The crystals sublimated, and the vapor then marked the print. But it was very hit-and-miss.
"We will then compare them to the fingerprint file. If there is a matching set of prints, then we will know definitively, who the hoaxer is. And if the prints on the artifacts do not match the prints taken, then we know that those people were not hoaxers."
"And if there are no prints to be found on the artifacts? Or they are too indistinct to be useful?"
"Then we have lost nothing but time."
Ferdinand rose. Everyone in the hearing room did the same. "I think this is too great a matter to be resolved in the little time remaining to us today. We will recess until tomorrow morning." Lewis, Niccolo and Lorenzo left the hearing room.
* * *
"Uncle, we need to talk privately." Giulio Inghirami raised his eyebrows, but agreed. Once they had found a suitable place, and barred the door behind them, he motioned to Curzio to continue.
"Do you remember that boating accident I had, about five years ago?"
"Vaguely. What of it?"
"My thumb was cut badly. I still bear the scar."
"And so?"
"I fear that the scar would be visible in my thumb print. It would be quite distinctive, would it not?"
"All the better for proving that you did not forge the Etruscan documents." Uncle Giulio frowned. "Unless, of course, the thumb print of the Etruscan has the same scar."
Curzio said nothing.
"Curzio, you idiot, what have you done to us!"
Curzio slumped. "I meant well, uncle. I thought that since the cause of the Church was just, that i
t would not be sinful to create a false Etruscan artifact which would serve the greater cause of supporting it in its struggle with the Protestants.
"Also, I found descriptions of truly great Etruscan remains in the books in Grantville."
"You should have studied less history and more natural philosophy, it seems."
Curzio shrugged off this dig. "Those remains, unfortunately, were not on our land. The only way I could hope to get access to them was to first be accepted as the authority on all matters Etruscan. And for that to happen, I had to make a dramatic find. I was on the horns of a dilemma."
"How noble of you to tell a little lie for the greater good of the Church and your ruler. Rather than, say, to show up the professori who had a low opinion of your academic abilities." Guilio sighed. "It is going to be very difficult to extricate ourselves from this imbroglio with our honor intact. And that is going to depend very much on what Lewis Bartolli will agree to."