Arianne had called Gio within minutes of Franz carrying the Lion out of the sitting room. She didn't explain everything over the phone. Her voice was calm and controlled, the way it always was when something was wrong, and Gio had learned long ago to recognize that particular tone. He arrived at the estate less than two hours later, a man in a dark jacket beside him.
The man carried a nondescript case and had the focused, unhurried demeanor of someone accustomed to working without commentary. The tech forensic expert. Independent. Reliable. Gio had found him through channels Arianne didn't ask about.
They set up at the garden table, far enough from the house that the twins wouldn't wander out and see what was happening. The afternoon light was soft and golden, the kind that made everything look untroubled. It was a strange contrast to the tension coiling in Franz's chest. He placed the Lion on the table.
