The Stolen Da Vinci Manuscripts: An Archaeological Mystery: An Arcadia Jones Mystery, #6

By Joshua Elliot James

Archaeology Professor Arcadia Jones returns in the latest action-packed mystery novella from Joshua Elliot James. 

You can hide Manuscripts for centuries but not forever. Someone got murdered and someone has stolen the newly discovered lost manuscripts from Leonardo da Vinci. Arcadia found them back, only to lose them again through betrayal of a man she once loved. Murder happens again before she recovers the books and takes the first flight out which is to Australia and then to Spain where she is chased first by killers and then by the police who is accusing her having shot a policeman. Will she be able to convince the police that she is innocent and that she has a very important mission to fulfill?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joshua Elliot James
• Release date: Aug 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516375424

Book preview

Introduction

This is an Arcadia Jones Archaeological Mystery Thriller. All Arcadia Jones books can be read alone. They are complete stories but if you would like to read them in order, the following would be recommended:

Arcadia And The Traitor’s Tomb, Book 1

The Ancient Gate Into Another World, Book 2

The Perfect Killing Machine, Book 3

The Mysterious Dragon God Of Yonaguni, Book 4

The Ruby Red Eyed Beast, Book 5

The Stolen Da Vinci Manuscripts, Book 6

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Episode 1

THE STOLEN DA VINCI MANUSCRIPTS & DEATH IN GENEVA

Chapter 1: The Mysterious Letter

The envelope contains a small corner of paper, apparently torn from a manuscript, and a note that reads ‘If you want more, come to 60-12 Piazza de Castagno 1, Rome, Italy, 81053.’ There is no mention of a date or time. I flip the envelope and scan for clues- it is addressed specifically to me, Ms. Arcadia Jones, Curator, Metropolitan Museum, New York, NY. 11201; there is nothing else but the postmark of Roma.

I’m optimistic because the sender expects me to date the sample and become excited enough to pursue the lead, so I head to schedule a test with my assistant Sebastian Sabourin.

Three days. He tells me.

Can you work it in earlier? I beg, I have a feeling it’s important.

He scans his work schedule. I guess I can bump ‘Harrison’ – he was called away for two weeks. Okay, I’ll have it tomorrow – say around noon.

I hand him the corner of paper and plant a kiss on his cheek. Sebastian, you’re wonderful!

The Accelerator Mass Spectrometer carbon dating device performs impeccably and tells us that the scrap of parchment is dated circa 1510 plus or minus.

Okay – let’s get to work.

I’ll base my search engine on Italy and include a span of five years either side: I’m offered several starting points – The Great Flood of Rome, the Great Fire at the Rialto of Venice, the Medici restored to power, Florence was captured by the Spanish, Agrippa returned to Northern Italy... none of these stimulate my interest. Anyway, they’re pretty well documented. No, there’s something missing...

Missing...

Now I get interested. What’s ‘missing’ from that period? Was that what somebody found? The search engine is not co-operative on finding ‘missing’ parameters, so I lean back in my chair, close my eyes and allow my imagination to run free. I’m in Italy, there’s the Tower of Pisa – doesn’t seem to be leaning to me at the moment... paintings I’ve only dreamed of seeing are there before my eyes, the canals of Venice – I’m in a gondola heading to the Sistine Chapel, I look up and see the yet unfinished work of da Vinci – I sit bolt upright, but don’t open my eyes. Wild tales told by my parents flit through my mind – da Vinci... something’s ringing a bell...

Back to the search engine; I type in da Vinci... blah, blah – all the stuff I remember from studies at Harvard but wait... what’s this? There’s a link to a different site. I open it and it leads me to the ‘ten top mysteries of all time’. There, staring me in the face at ‘number ten’ is a report of the disappearance of 85% of da Vinci’s books containing ideas for inventions, with sketches. On his death, these books were bequeathed to his friend and pupil, the painter Francesco Melzi, but they were stolen on his death in 1570 when his possessions were ransacked and many of them stolen. As a painter, Melzi worked so closely with and for Leonardo that some works which were originally attributed to Leonardo are today ascribed to Melzi

When things seem too good to believe, they usually are and there was one time when I thought the same of the ‘Rosetta Stone’ – but I digress. Back to the present; obviously I have to pursue this, so I’ll get Professor Hannibal to sub for me at Harvard and take a leave of absence from the museum for two weeks – that will give time to see my parents in London. If anybody can shed light on this, it will be them – after all they taught ‘Indiana Jones’ all he knows.

Chapter 2: Visit To London

I so miss the speed of the retired turbojet-powered supersonic passenger airliner Concorde, when traveling to London on one took no longer than a regular flight to Florida it seemed, but we eventually touch down at Heathrow and I whisk through ‘customs’ with all the special benefits of a ‘first class’ passenger.

A forty-minute cab ride and I’m hugging my parents in their luxury ‘flat’ - as they call an apartment in jolly old Britain, on the banks of the Thames. I can see HMS Belfast, now a permanently moored tourist attraction near the London Bridge, from their panoramic window.

So bring us up to date with this mystery letter. My father urges.

I show it to him and he produces an ever ready magnifying glass from his waistcoat pocket. After several minutes of study, he hands it to my mother without a word. She scrutinizes back and front but pays particular attention to the torn edge before returning it with a nod.

Vellum undoubtedly, probably from around 1500. He announces with authority.

Stored particularly well. My mother adds. If not, this sample would be brittle or mold stained; just the right amount of humidity.

Why not parchment? I ask.

My father hands the glass to me. See the faint hair mark? This is most likely the back of the sheet. Parchment had a different process which typically removed hairs – this is from calf skin – not lamb.

What about the envelope?

It’s just an envelope – nothing special, although the address is intriguing.

Why?

"Rome. Home of a subversive art movement founded by a former pupil of da Vinci – Bartolomeo Suardi if I recall correctly.

You guys are amazing. I compliment.

"Guys? What happened to your vocabulary, Arcadia? My mother complains.

America.

When are you leaving for Rome? Father asks.

Day after tomorrow.

Good – let’s invite Gavin Galbraith for dinner tomorrow then.

Gavin – he’s in town?

Yes, he called last night.

That would be nice.

Gavin was the hottest man I ever knew and our relationship was perfect until he spoiled it by asking me to marry him. He was the one responsible for sparking my passion for red high heel shoes - and the Argentine tango, the most sensuous dance in the world. The two fit together so perfectly.

The moment I see him, old emotions flood back. His gorgeous black hair is a little longer than before and I imagine how great it would look slicked-back under dance floor floodlights. His hazel eyes show obvious pleasure in seeing me and his strong arms engulf me greedily.

Arcadia, you look radiant! He compliments and takes a step back to admire me from head to foot. Ah - red shoes.

"I didn’t want