Musei e Cornetti

A Bit More Dramatic

A/N:  I actually don't remember which room of the Palatine Gallery this painting is in, so I just stuck it in the first room to streamline things.  And John and Ringo are actually quite lucky, because there are a lot more galleries in the Pitti Palace; the place is just enormous!  Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers:  MaccaRockas, ThisBirdHasFlown, Macca40, Swimmer girl 17, sweetladyjane2012, MaccasWeirdFriend, and NJ2001  :0)

John and Ringo stared up at the imposing façade of the Palazzo Pitti. The enormous, tan palace regally dominated the sloped piazza in front of it. A few tourists and a couple of beleaguered university students scuttled across the sandy bricks of the square.

Ringo turned to look at John.

"It's awfully . . . big, isn't it?" inquired the drummer hesitantly.

John smirked and flipped an obscene gesture at the monolithic stone palace. Ringo groaned feebly as John promptly skipped across the echoing square to the enormous, arched doorway to the palace.

"I'm the King of Scandinavia," announced John, flashing his leather pocket notebook officially in front of the security guard's nose. John whipped the paper back down again before the guard even had a chance to go fully cross-eyed in an attempt to read it.

"And this is my valet," added John, gesturing dismissively to Ringo, who was miserably fumbling with a cigarette a couple of meters away.

John strode confidently into the palace. Ringo trotted after him, muttering a hasty apology to the bemused guard.

"You know, we could have just bought tickets like normal people," pointed out Ringo in a hushed voice as the two Beatles strode down the shady colonnade that bordered the immense interior courtyard.

"We're playing James Bond in Florence, and you want to behave like normal people?" inquired John incredulously.

The guitarist led the way, racing up the wide, smooth staircase two-at-a-time.

Ringo followed him, uncertainly calling out, "How d'you know this is the right way?"

"The sign back there said the Palatine Gallery's this way," replied John. "Paintings are in galleries, right?"

The two young men raced up several flights of the smooth, pale grey stairs before coming to the entrance to the gallery.

Feigning nonchalance, John strolled into the first room of the gallery, his hands in his pockets. Ringo trotted after him.

The Liverpudlians found themselves drowning in gold leaf, ornate plaster, and deep red wallpaper. Priceless paintings coated the walls from floor to ceiling, jammed in wherever possible. Their extremely ornate gold frames dwarfed the Renaissance and baroque masterpieces trapped within. A marble, neoclassical sculpture of a nude Venus stood on a plinth in the middle of the ornate room. A pair of tall, slender windows overlooked the vast, brick square in front of the palace. The only other person in the room was a man with black hair wearing a grey, bespoke suit; he examining one of the paintings in the far corner.

John smirked appreciatively at the sculpture of Venus.

"D'you think anybody would notice if I touched it?" he asked Ringo cheekily.

"We're on a mission, Lennon!" snapped Ringo. "I don't want to be stuck vacuuming ceilings!"

John crossed his arms and exaggerated a pouting frown.

"How are we supposed to pick out the right painting?" wondered Ringo aloud. "It's like finding a needle in a haystack!"

"D'you think it could be that one?" suggested John, pointing at the painting directly opposite them. A young woman had been painted in oil, shimmering a little against the shadowy black background. Her tantalizing smile glimmered from the candle she held. A pearl earring dangled down, brushing against her jaw.

Ringo smiled. "That looks like a girl with a candle to me!"

He bounded over to the painting. John followed, casting one last glance back at Venus.

Ringo started patting the gold frame, looking rather like a police officer frisking someone under arrest. The drummer's calloused fingers tumbled across the elaborate curls and whorls of gold-leaf-coated wood.

A thin envelope tumbled to the floor from behind the painting. John snatched it from the ground. The two Beatles leaned over the envelope as John pulled out a single, thin sheet of paper.

"You have completed the first task," said the typewritten letter. "For future stages, you will need to be able to decipher codes; for now, let us stick to riddles."

"Codes?" interjected Ringo incredulously.

John grinned. "Told you it was like James Bond!" he whispered.

They turned back to the letter.

"Your next destination is a little more . . . dramatic than this one," read John aloud.

"More dramatic?" wondered Ringo aloud. "This building is the size of a – a – a really huge building! How can it get more dramatic?"

"Shh!" hissed John. "Codes . . . riddles . . . next destination's more dramatic . . . Ah, here we are: 'It was once the stage of conquerors."

A pigeon cooed outside the window. The man in the bespoke suit adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses and turned a page in his guidebook.

"Is that it?" asked Ringo.

John nodded. "Let's go!" he grinned.

The guitarist strolled out of the room, patting Venus on the head on the way out.

"I hope this is the last clue," Ringo sighed, trudging out of the room after John.

The famous musicians' Beatle boots echoed against the smooth steps and the white walls of the airy stairwell. A cloud fluttered briefly across the yellow Italian sun. Laughter bubbled up from the piazza below and drifted through the rippled old glass to the man in the bespoke suit.

The man in the bespoke suit carefully bent down as though to tie his shoelace; instead, he subtly popped off the Oxford's heel and pulled out a small, black, electronic device. He pushed a button on its side, and murmured into it, "The candidates have succeeded their first task."

A/N:  Ooh, a mysterious cliffhanger!  Sorry guys, this one won't be resolved for a while yet ;0)