Chapter 7: A Present from Azathoth
West 110th Street. Sunday morning.
The early morning air was unseasonably cold and damp. Dense fog had rolled in from the Hudson River. Neal thrust his hands deeper into his pockets.
"Do you know what Mozzie's found?" Peter asked, his breath condensing into a white mist.
"Not a clue. All he said was for us to meet him at the corner of Amsterdam Avenue and 110th Street." When Neal called Diana and Peter last night with the news that Mozzie had cracked Azathoth's riddle, they both insisted on being present. Mozzie better be right, or Diana would never let him live it down.
Ten minutes later a figure emerged out of the fog. He was clad in a houndstooth coat and deerstalker cap and carried a large magnifying glass in his hand. A little short to be Sherlock but otherwise he had the look nailed.
"Mozzie, get over here!" Diana yelled. "What are you doing in that ridiculous getup?"
He ignored her question. "Haven't you deduced it yet? You know my methods, and yet, you cannot see what is in front of your eyes?"
Puzzled, Neal looked around at the buildings. "Of course! I walk by here all the time and I didn't think of it."
"What?" Peter demanded, looking frustrated. "I have an excuse. I live in Brooklyn, remember."
Neal pointed to a building in the middle of the street. "That's called the Britannia."
"You are correct," Mozzie said. "I'd wager my Stradivarius that Azathoth is referring to the Britannia. Another name for it is the Gargoyle Building." The nine-story apartment building was only five blocks away from June's house. It had been built around the first decade of the twentieth century. Unlike the anonymous brick block apartment buildings typical for the area, the Britannia resembled an English country manor with flanking wings and a central court. The most distinctive feature, however, was the ornamentation. A row of whimsical gargoyles supported the second-floor balcony of each wing.
Mozzie placed his hands on his hips. "As you recall, the riddle says, Do you like treasure hunts? Find yourself in the sky over Britain."
Diana looked skeptical. "Why do you think he meant the Britannia?"
"Azathoth thrives on bravura displays. He wants us to discover the treasure. A building so close to where Neal lives is ideal. Haven't you found yourself yet?"
"There's something with Diana's name on it hidden on the roof?" Peter asked.
Mozzie shook his head. "Not likely. Use your eyes. A careful examination will reveal your answer."
Neal thought he knew, but he waited for the others to guess. Peter pointed to a gargoyle. "That fellow looks like he's writing a book. He's holding a quill, and that smirk looks like something Azathoth would relate to. You think Azathoth chose the gargoyle to represent Diana and there's something hidden in the crevice behind it?"
Mozzie nodded. "It was elementary, my dear suit. Azathoth was writing to an author. This is the logical solution. I've already spoken to the building superintendent. You'll note the ladder next to the side entrance. Who would like to have the honor?"
"The author, of course," Diana said, striding forward. She pulled a pair of gloves out of her bag and slipped them on.
Neal and Peter moved the ladder into position, while Mozzie with a sweeping gesture beckoned her forward.
Diana slung a camera around her neck and climbed the ladder. When she was at the height of the gargoyle, she peered around its head. "It looks like there may be something wedged behind it." She snapped several photos then reached into the space between the open book and the figure with her hand. The recess was dark. It was difficult to see how far back it extended. "I got something!" she called out triumphantly as she pulled out a small thin box. She scaled down the ladder while Peter and Neal slipped on their gloves. Mozzie continued to view the proceedings with a complacent smile.
Diana gave Peter the box to hold while she snapped additional photos. "What do you think of the gift wrap?"
"A token of appreciation for Arkham Files," Mozzie suggested, rubbing his hands in anticipation. The box was wrapped in pale green paper with a large origami starfish on top. "The starfish clearly refers to the soapstone artifact in our stories."
Diana narrowed her eyes at his use of the word our but let it pass.
Peter studied the box, raising it to check the bottom. "We probably should wait for the lab boys to examine it before we open it, but . . ."
"Tosh, suit," Mozzie said impatiently. "It's too small to contain a bomb. Don't leave us in suspense."
"Boss, you have to open it," Diana urged, for once in full agreement with him.
The lid was gift-wrapped separately. When Peter raised the lid, a black leather inner case was revealed. The others pressed close to view the contents.
Inside the case was a bejeweled gold lion. It was a pendant, meant to be suspended. A gold chain linked the collar on its neck to the base of its tail. A large baroque pearl was used to represent the body of the lion. The pendant clasp was made of gold, enamel, and precious stones. After taking a close look, Neal stepped back. The origami . . . A jeweled lion . . . The leash . . . The message came through loud and clear.
"Neal, are you familiar with it?"
Neal looked up to see Peter watching him. He shook himself mentally. "It appears authentic. Flemish workmanship. Seventeenth century most likely. The Flemish and Italians were fond of incorporating baroque pearls within jewelry pieces. I've seen pearls used as the body of a dragon or a centaur—even the body of a sea monster. Azathoth called this a treasure hunt. I'd say we found our treasure chest."
Diana studied the piece. "I wonder why he used a lion rather than a monster? That or a dragon would have been more appropriate."
Mozzie tapped Diana on her shoulder. "I understand you offered a free gourmet lunch as a reward for the person who solved the riddle. I'll prepare my list of suitable options immediately."
#
When Peter pulled Neal aside shortly after the discovery and said they needed to talk, Neal wasn't surprised. A secure location was required so they returned to his loft. Diana stayed at the site to supervise the lab techs who'd been called in to process the scene. Jones was also coming over. Undoubtedly Azathoth had hidden at least one camera somewhere to monitor the gargoyle. Surveillance equipment could be hidden in any number of apartments or adjacent buildings. The search would be a lengthy one.
Mozzie took off as soon as the FBI van rolled up, muttering to Neal he was returning to the bunker to work on the Longthorpe con. Neal had a pang of conscience at wishing just for a moment the warrant wouldn't go through so they could use Mozzie's scheme.
Peter didn't bring up the elephant tagging along behind them when they mounted the stairs to the loft. He even allowed Neal to make coffee. Peter the polar bear no doubt thought the weather outside was delightful, but the experience for Neal had been chilling on several levels. He took his time grinding the beans but knew he couldn't put it off much longer. It wasn't that he didn't want to discuss it with Peter, but saying it aloud made it true. He'd spent the walk attempting to assign a different meaning to the treasure, but his prediction that he wouldn't find one proved accurate.
"Sit down. Stop fiddling with the coffee and tell me what was so troubling about that lion."
Neal opened a cabinet and got out two mugs. He poured the coffee and took them over to the dining table where Peter was waiting for an explanation. They'd worked together so long, Peter knew how to make him talk. He just sat there, keeping Neal in his gaze, saying nothing. It was frustrating. If Peter would try to engage him in conversation, Neal could deflect much more easily. His eyes involuntarily moved to the French patio doors. He'd much rather hold the discussion outside. But then his coffee would grow cold.
He cleared his throat and took a sip. "It's probably nothing. The early hour. The fog. Mozzie dressed as Sherlock. You have to admit he looked like a ghost coming out of the mist like that."
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that? You think Azathoth is sending us a message with the lion, don't you?"
"Not just that. By itself, I'd be tempted to discard it as a coincidence, but in combination with the gargoyle . . . It's as if Azathoth wants to make sure we don't have any doubt."
"That this is connected to Klaus Mansfeld?"
"That's right." Neal looked into the coffee, rotating it gently to make waves. Could there be any other explanation? The waves revealed nothing else. "The origami is not a surprise. We already knew that Azathoth is aware of my interest in origami and we've grown accustomed to him toying with us. The gargoyle representing Diana is typical of his weird brand of humor. But gargoyles have a second significance. Klaus had a collection of miniature gargoyles. He even had me carve a couple. He had a gargoyle chess set in the New York townhouse that was a work of art."
"Which Klaus's tech experts, Jacek and Marta Kolar, also would have known about. We've suspected their involvement for a while. Klaus gave you the nickname of Lion Cub. Would they have known that?"
Neal considered for a few moments. Had Klaus said anything in the townhouse? They'd had several dinners together. It was hard to think back on every snippet of conversation. "That evening we went out to dinner and you recorded us? Klaus was ribbing me about what it had been like to mentor me. He might have said something. You still have the transcript. You could check."
"And this lion is on a leash. You could assign several meanings to that. Azathoth's yanking your chain. You're his to control. Here's another interpretation. Azathoth is reminding you that you're no longer the wild animal you were with Klaus. You told me how Klaus liked to think he was free to prowl the jungle, beholden to no rules or laws. He made up his own code of the jungle."
Neal nodded.
"You also told me that when you worked with him, you felt the same way. I remember when we stayed at the cabin last spring and Noelle was helping you recover your memory of the horrific incidents in your childhood, you mentioned she was taming the lion in you."
Neal grew uneasy at his line of questioning. "What's your point?"
Peter considered a moment before replying. "Do you sometimes think of yourself as being shackled? The rules and regulations of the Bureau can be a nightmare. Be honest. You don't have to answer if you don't want to. That's acceptable. Deflecting's not."
"No, I don't and that's the truth. Do I complain about all the red tape? Of course. But do I want to return to the jungle? No. It's lost its appeal. I've learned that Klaus's code of the jungle is about cruelty and brutality. But I can also see where someone like Jacek might think I must be chafing and is trying to goad me."
"Unless this is a coincidence, Azathoth proved that he knows about your past with Klaus," Peter said. "All the other attacks and symbols had nothing to do with Klaus. We've suspected revenge being a factor, but this confirms it. What we can't yet determine is if he's targeting you as a way to get to me. Does he think he can manipulate me by going after you? A type of blackmail?"
Neal shook his head. "That doesn't seem likely. If he wanted to blackmail you, he'd go after Elizabeth too. What I can't figure out is if this is revenge, why doesn't Azathoth go ahead and try to maim or kill me?" Neal stood up to pace. "Why is he giving us a gift? Is that his revenge? Drive me crazy trying to figure it out?" Peter would no doubt order him to sit down, but he couldn't help it. He felt like he was going to explode. He spun around to face Peter. "Is this another nod to Arkham Files? My character's trying to figure out the meaning of that soapstone starfish, and now I'm supposed to figure out what the lion means?"
Peter got up and stood next to him. "You need to take a lesson from your character. He didn't try to solve the mystery on his own, and you shouldn't either. And I'm not the only one fighting this with you. Tricia will need to be informed, but that shouldn't trouble you. You know I've been careful to keep the degree of your association with Mansfeld off the record, and she'll also be discreet. Jacek and Marta are the most likely suspects. As Klaus's protégés, they could be seeking revenge for his death. You said Klaus liked to portray himself as your big brother. Perhaps he did with them too. Does Mozzie still not know?"
"I never told him how Klaus died or my involvement," he admitted. Peter was the only one who understood how he felt. "It's a good thing I don't believe in ghosts, or I'd wonder if Klaus's ghost had risen from his grave to haunt us."
Peter gave a brief chuckle. "I think we can safely eliminate any ghosts from the list of possibilities. Azathoth is playing with us both like a cat with a mouse, but we can use that and make it work for us."
Neal appreciated Peter's confidence. The knowledge that Azathoth was so familiar with his former life was more unsettling than he would have thought. "I don't like being a mouse. Can I borrow Satchmo?"
"You have me. That's even better."
Peter's comment caught him off guard. Neal had experienced his share of lucky breaks but nothing to compare with somehow managing to win Peter's friendship.
"And not just me," Peter added. "Remember you've got the entire White Collar team on your side. That cat picked the wrong mouse to play with."
Neal slid back into a chair. "Did I ever tell you that during the Mansfeld job in the fall, when you visited me at Columbia, I thought of you as my St. Bernard rescuing me from the snowdrift I found myself in?"
Peter smiled. "Next time I'll bring along my barrel of brandy. In the meantime, let's make do with coffee and research the pendant."
Peter pulled out his laptop and placed it on the table. Neal joined him with his own. It didn't take long to find the lion on the FBI's National Stolen Art File, but the discovery only compounded the mystery. The pendant had been stolen two months ago from the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore. Was it merely a coincidence that Baltimore was the location for Win-Win? It used to be Henry's hometown and still was for Noelle and Joe. Another coincidence? Peter didn't believe in coincidences and neither did he.
A Castle in Hungary. Monday afternoon.
"She grows impatient." He switched his cell phone to speaker and strode over to the mullioned glass windows. Across the broad expanse of lawn, the rhododendrons were in full bloom. "She reminds me daily about how much we could have made by selling the lion."
"That bauble?" Scorn resonated clearly in his brother's voice over the phone. "Its monetary value was a pittance when compared with the riches we've provided her over the past year. As a psychological tool, the pendant succeeded brilliantly. When she reviews the footage of the lion cub's face when he saw it, she'll understand."
"You're satisfied with our progress?"
"We're further along than I'd initially estimated. The first phase is complete. The kidnapping, the flash drive, the card, the convention—they've all exceeded my expectations."
He strolled to the sideboard and poured himself a cognac. His brother's confidence calmed his initial doubts. "I assume you confirmed my hypothesis."
"Yes. The key is isolation." The faint honk of a car came through the speaker. "Bit by bit we sever the tethers holding him to New York. Burke, the FBI, his friendships, his loves. It will be like before. We'll be there to pick up the pieces when he disintegrates."
He perched on the edge of the couch and rotated the glass gently in his fingers. "The obstacle I foresee is patience. She presses me daily for an early resolution. I counter we're in no hurry. I say we wait till he's built up more connections. The more inroads he makes with Interpol, the more valuable he'll be."
"I agree. Use your charm on her. It's her one vulnerability. Exploit it."
"What about Burke? Any chance of turning him?"
His brother gave a slow exhale, taking a moment to respond. "It appears remote, but there's a chance. We should make the attempt."
"You're not letting those stories influence you?"
"Don't insult me. It's simply a matter of keeping our options open. At the moment his greatest value is for the leverage he gives us with the cub. He's far too valuable an asset to be squandered early."
"I wish I had something more concrete to present her. She's still furious over Hagen's capture. What did Kramer have to say to excuse his failure?"
"He claims White Collar slapped tighter controls on sensitive information. He didn't find out about the plans in time to act."
"And now we've lost St. George and the Dragon."
"True, but we sold enough forgeries to make up for its loss. We wouldn't have been able to continue that for much longer. It's time to move on."
"If Kramer fails us again, he should be replaced."
"Not till we have someone to step in his place. Thanks to him, we've already been able to plant the seeds of mistrust and suspicion around our cub. The first sprouts have already appeared."
"Were you able to resolve the Hagen problem?"
"Unfortunately not. He's in a maximum-security section, and our agent hasn't been able to gain access. In any case, Hagen's understanding of our operations is so minimal, his capture shouldn't pose a risk."
"When do you return to London?"
"Tomorrow. Have your travel plans stayed the same?"
"Yes. I leave for New York in two days."
"I visited the Met yesterday. It was tempting to leave a business card, but I'll leave that for you. I assume you still plan to visit the exhibition?"
"Of course." He smiled at the thought. "It's time to pay a return visit to Columbia."
White Collar. Monday morning.
Jacek Kolar is Azathoth.
As Neal arrived at work on Monday morning, he was still puzzling over the likelihood that the quiet Czech geek or his wife Marta was the cybercriminal mastermind they'd been pursuing for months. Jacek had the technical expertise to write the programs—Aidan had verified that through his contacts in Eastern Europe. Despite the efforts taken to keep details surrounding Klaus's death classified, Jacek could have discovered the truth and was seeking revenge. His wife Marta was a gaming programmer and graphics designer. She easily could have devised the house of horror where Neal and Peter were held.
But there was a streak of cruelty to Azathoth's actions that Neal found difficult to equate with the Jacek and Marta he knew from that week in Klaus's townhouse. Was Azathoth taking advantage of Klaus's death to obscure his true motive, or was Neal trying to avoid feeling guilty? Neal's thoughts continued to spin in a never-ending roulette wheel around Azathoth, Jacek, and Marta, but the ball never stopped on any of them.
Peter had called Tricia the previous day to update her on the lion pendant and their suspicions. She was scheduled to meet with him and Peter this morning. Neal was eager to hear what her take was.
#
"I know all signs point to Jacek or Marta, but I still have my doubts." Tricia stood at the whiteboard in the conference room and began writing. Neal and Peter were the only other ones attending the briefing.
"Let's outline what we know about Azathoth so far." She wrote "Lovecraft" at the top of the board. "Beyond his fascination for Lovecraft, what other traits does he possess? He's displayed interest in art, puzzles, and cryptography. The way he hid clues in the Galileo manuscript last October shows us that he's fluent in Latin and understands Renaissance astronomical devices."
"He's either an expert programmer or has attracted the best talent to work for him," Peter added.
"We know he's wealthy," Neal said. "He was able to stage the kidnapping. He also may be European. The earliest uses of the malware that we've detected were in European museums."
She nodded. "I also think it's likely he comes from an academic background."
"Several times Azathoth has demonstrated a knowledge of Neal and me," Peter said. "He could have stolen the Galileo manuscript because he was aware of my interest in astronomy. The origami that he added to the Christmas tree at the Museum of Natural History in December showed that he was aware not only of Neal's skill but also that Neal was helping out with the tree."
Neal turned to Peter. "And the card he slipped into your newspaper that had my doctored image? Azathoth didn't pick a random section. He knew you'd look at the hockey section."
"That card was nothing compared to the complexity of the hoax Azathoth pulled at the sci-fi convention this spring," Peter countered. "Hacking the email systems of Scima Workshop and Paramount Pictures to convince them to work on a film version of a Lovecraft short story? That was a more elaborate hoax than anything he'd attempted before."
"And he referenced Neal by choosing a short story which featured an artist living in a loft," Tricia noted. "You can't get much more personal than that. Now we can add another data point—a connection to Klaus Mansfeld."
"We've speculated for a while Azathoth is being driven by revenge," Peter said, "and Jacek and Marta Kolar are the only ones we know of that have a connection to Mansfeld. Why are you reluctant to believe one of them could be Azathoth?"
"The complexity of the strategy, the use of abstruse codes, his knowledge of Latin. The person who designed the riddle contained within the Galileo manuscript not only knew Latin but was familiar with how Renaissance armillary spheres worked." Tricia shook her head and chuckled. "I looked at those Apian wheel diagrams that were the key to solving the mystery. I like to think I'm of reasonable intelligence but I couldn't begin to figure out how the wheels were meant to be used. Jacek and Marta are roughly Neal's age." She looked pointedly at Neal. "Did you understand them?"
Neal snorted. "Without Mozzie and Peter, I would have been sunk."
"The main reason I'm discounting the Kolars, though, is that it's difficult for me to believe they would go to such extreme lengths for revenge. Neal didn't know them in Europe. The earliest Jacek and Marta could have begun working with Klaus was two years ago."
"Klaus told me they'd only been working with him for a year," Neal added. "He could have lied, of course, but it's hard to understand why he would have. I have the same doubts you have. I can easily picture them as Azathoth's tech experts but not as Azathoth."
"So who's left?" Peter asked. Neal could hear the frustration in his voice. "It's someone who knows of Neal's connections to Mansfeld and has deep enough ties to warrant this type of revenge. We've already researched Mansfeld's relatives. His father still runs the investment firm. Neither he nor his wife has a hint of anything suspicious in their backgrounds. Klaus had two brothers, Rolf and Egon. Neal, you said Klaus didn't get along with Egon."
"That's right. According to him, Egon had no appreciation of art or music and he was a stickler for following the rules."
"How about his older brother, Rolf?" Peter asked.
"Rolf was a different story. The brothers were close, although there was quite an age gap. About twelve years or so as I recall. About a year before I met Klaus, Rolf died in a car accident. Klaus was devastated. Chantal filled me in on what had happened. He kept his grief private, but I think the tragedy may have colored his personality. Klaus was always so intense and viewed himself above the law. Losing his brother may have had something to do with it."
"Rolf is an interesting case," Tricia added. "He had a doctorate in mathematics and taught at the University of Bremen. He was also on a research team involved with artificial intelligence." She turned to Neal. "Were you aware of that?"
Neal shook his head. "I knew he was brilliant, but Klaus rarely mentioned him to me. I assumed he found talking about his brother too painful."
"Your intelligence must have been part of the reason Klaus thought so highly of you," Peter commented.
Neal winced. "I don't know about that, but he lectured me often enough about going back to school and getting a degree. I agree Rolf's background is intriguing, but since he's dead, it's a moot point."
She left the whiteboard and took a seat next to them. "You're probably right. If he were alive I'd list him as my prime suspect. I'm beginning to feel like we've landed in an X-Files plot where our lead candidate is a dead man."
Neal appreciated her injection of a little humor into what was becoming an increasingly tense discussion. "I've heard of people faking their death."
"I wondered about that myself," Peter admitted. "I asked Interpol to review the case. Rolf had been identified by his parents and cremated afterward. So unless we want to consult a psychic, that door is shut. How about a woman? In crimes of revenge, a lover is often the culprit. Cherchez la femme."
"Très bien, Pierre," Neal replied, "but I hope you're not suggesting Chantal."
"No, I'm not. We've researched her and are confident she's not leading a clandestine life as a cybercriminal. But was Klaus faithful to her? Perhaps he had a mistress?"
"I can ask her about it. She divorced Klaus a month after I returned to New York, but I only found out about it last fall. The few times we've talked, she's never mentioned anyone, but she probably wouldn't unless I ask her directly."
Tricia nodded absently. She'd been taking notes, but placed her pen down, her eyes drifting over to the window. "We've been tying Azathoth to a personal vendetta against the two of you because of Klaus, but we could be going in the wrong direction. What if instead of revenge, the motif is recruitment?"
"Explain," Peter demanded.
She returned to the whiteboard and started a new column. "We've discussed Azathoth selling his malware to Ydrus. What if instead, he's either the head of the organization or a close associate? We don't know if Azathoth is a woman, but we believe the head of Ydrus to be one. So let's assume Azathoth is a she. Jacek and Marta work for her. Ydrus started out in arms smuggling. Over the past few years they've expanded their operations into art crimes, and Neal, you're known as one of the best players in the field. She could be utilizing psychological warfare on you, trying to increase your feelings of guilt over Mansfeld to persuade you to return to your old life."
"We've already had one instance where Yuri Bolotnov tried to kidnap Neal and take him to Russia," Peter added. "It's possible Ydrus has similar designs."
She turned to Peter. "And you may be targeted as a potential ally as well. We suspect Ydrus has an informant within the FBI. They may consider you another candidate."
Peter huffed and Neal agreed. "That's hard to believe. I don't know of anyone more ethical than Peter."
"I don't dispute what you say, but look at it from their perspective. Peter, your reputation is impeccable . . . up to a little over a year ago. Then you persuade the Bureau to bring in a con man, a suspected criminal. It may have impressed Ydrus at how successful you were in integrating Neal into the organization. Your closeness to Neal is no secret. Now, with your brother Joe having married Noelle, the sister of Neal's mother, you're Neal's uncle. That family connection muddies the waters. And not only that. Through Noelle's son Henry, you have close ties to Win-Win who has been known to play fast and loose with the law and government regulations. Neal's vulnerability is his record. Ydrus knows what an expert con artist and forger he is. They could easily feel that his past life is an addiction he can never free himself of, and they intend to use that as a weapon. Peter, your vulnerability in their eyes is Neal."
Neal had worried about that before, but to hear Tricia say it so bluntly was tough. He quickly composed his face into a mask to hide the hurt. Peter wasn't as successful in disguising his feelings and Neal appreciated the flash of dismay that crossed his face.
"That came out harsher than I meant," Tricia quickly added. "Neal, you also add to his strength."
"If that's what they're thinking, we can use it to trap them," Peter pointed out. "I'd say Neal is the best weapon we have. It may be time for us to con them into believing he's returned to your old ways. We can then use that to draw them out."
Peter talking about running a con? Neal smiled and tamped down his churning stomach.
"Tomorrow I'll speak with Hughes," Peter said. "This reinforces the need for us to work off-grid. Until the mole is exposed, we'll have to toss out the normal procedures for file processing on all matters concerning Azathoth, Ydrus, and Adler as well."
"I agree," Tricia said. "Both of you should be prepared that it may get very personal. On the plus side, if our theory is correct, you won't be subjected to physical threats. But mental? Emotional? I'd say the odds are even higher."
After she left, Peter had Neal stay. His words of reassurance that Neal wasn't a liability were welcome. Neal suspected that Peter was concerned he was considering running away. But that wasn't on the table. If he fled, Peter's reputation would be damaged even further. Their only option was to fight it together.
Now more than ever he'd have to safeguard Peter's reputation. If Ydrus were looking for an opportunity to attack him, Neal wasn't about to help them by supplying the ammunition. He'd been wavering in his decision to keep Peter in the dark about the Braque painting. But Tricia made it abundantly clear that for Peter's sake, he had to. Neal was Peter's Achilles heel. That was the reality and he'd have to live within its constraints.
Notes: We're used to Neal and Peter presenting a united front against their foes, but heroes aren't the only ones who form strong alliances. Villains can occur in pairs too. I wrote about the power of two for our blog this week. That's a concept with which I'm very familiar since I have the exceptional good fortune to have Penna as a writing partner.
The baroque lion is a real piece of jewelry. In the sixteenth century, baroque pearl pendants were all the rage. In addition to the lion, I pinned a sea monster and a dragon to the Raphael's Dragon Pinterest board. These extravagant masterpieces would set any jewel thief's heart on fire.
