Page 379 - The Grotesque Children's Book

Chapter 69.

Santi’s Fate

It turns out that while Aurelio’s interpretation of the unfinished face of the figure sitting
on the fish was an understandable one, Santi del Meglio had, in fact, escaped, as you suspected
all along. Here’s the sequence of events the night that he ran off with the jewels.

His father had died, freeing him from the responsibility of being a willing but burdened
caretaker, and also removing the last objection to the thievery. Before he went to the tavern and
sobbed in Carola’s arms, Santi had shown up suddenly in Bianca’s private chambers, exactly as
Allesandro Allori had instructed, carrying some extra pigments and several cloths.

Allori looked startled and unprepared, as though somehow he was no longer expecting
Santi to show up (Prescient! thought Santi, but here I am now after all.) Just as Allori had
instructed, Santi said the words according to the script: “A thousand pardons, Master Allori,”
said Santi, “here are the additional pigments and cloths you requested.”

To which Allori replied, again as planned, “Thank you, apprentice. Put the pigments
over there,” (by the jewel box), “but let me see those cloths to make sure there are no holes in
them. Can’t have paint on Her Majesty’s floor, now, can we?”

Allori took the top cloth and floomphed it out in front of him, holding it high, giving
Santi the camouflage he needed to open one drawer of the box, scoop out an arbitrary handful of
jewels from within, and hide them in the folds of the other cloths he was carrying. Got them!

Allori then unfloomphed the cloth, saying, “This is satisfactory. I do not need the others.
Now get back to work on the ceilings, apprentice! We’ve fallen woefully behind.”

And Santi left the room. Just as planned.

The next part of the plan was for Santi to go back to Bay 37, and finish his portrait, so as
to announce to Aurelio that he had possession of the jewels and his little errand was
accomplished. However, as he was approaching Bay 37, Santi noticed one of those ubiquitous
shadowy figures, pretending to inspect something inside one of the newly-converted galleries. I
can’t climb up the scaffold, paint one little portion, then climb back down; that will look odd and
call attention not only to me but to the symbols in the ceiling, which is the last thing I want right
now. I’ll have to come back later.

But there never was a later. Santi went home, prepared his father’s body for the coroner
on the morrow, and packed some belongings to begin his journey north immediately upon his
father’s services, including sewing the jewels into the lining of a long green scarf, the symbolism
of which was not wasted on him. That evening, he went to the Wheat and Chaff where he
quietly ordered a tankard, and prepared to whisper his promised farewell to Carola.

Carola lit into him, angry. “Where have you been! I haven’t seen you for weeks. Not
since that night you lost your money stupidly betting on Tozzo when I told you to wait! You

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