A Mystery in Florence
In Tuscany there is so much magic: hills decorated with olive trees, vineyards and cypresses, bell towers ringing everywhere, hidden gardens, and of course enchanted cities, full of history and beauty, where famous artists have created marvellous works of art.
In this tale we find ourselves in the city of Florence, where magic abounds and legends hide in every corner.
A river called the Arno runs through it; and amongst the many bridges there is one that quite rightly is a bit more famous than the others: the Ponte Vecchio. In those suspended houses no one lives anymore. Every day it is full of tourists who photograph it and come to visit from all over the world, but many, many years ago on this bridge there were butchers, fishmongers and tanners as if it were a market, a square suspended over the Arno and daily life was very different from today.
At the time of this story the shops were all jewellery stores owned by master goldsmiths, who lived there, worked and sold gold jewellery and precious items of the highest quality. It was one of the hearts of the city where the Florentines of the time would meet and stop to chat whilst they came and went from one side of the river to the other. Even the children spent their days having fun playing and running from one side to the other undisturbed.
At this point you must know that for some days small thefts had been occurring in the artisans' shops. Gold and precious items disappeared as if stolen by the wind, silently and by surprise, without leaving a trace. Who knows who knows? Who could be the culprit?
The goldsmiths gathered together, after closing their shops, right there on the bridge.
"But what on earth is happening?" said one.
"Well, if only we knew..." said another.
"And we can't go on like this, looking like fools!"
Bernardo, one of the goldsmiths, said: "Granted I'm a bit absent-minded, but I'm certainly not blind enough not to see if gold is missing from my shop."
And off they went asking questions and interrogating each other to try to find an explanation for these thefts, discover the thief and perhaps recover what was stolen.
In short, it had been weeks now that gold filings from the working of gold and various precious objects had been disappearing from the shops — and all this was happening under everyone's eyes but no one had seen anything.
Who to blame if not those mischievous rascals who enjoyed playing football on the bridge! Between little matches, laughter, running, various games and hide-and-seek, who knows if one of them hadn't started stealing here and there.
More days passed and more gold had vanished into thin air. The goldsmiths, tired of this business, came out onto the bridge and shouted loudly all together: "Now we've really had enough and it's time to put an end to it! Let's catch the thief!"
Even Giulio the baker came out to the doorway of his shop, on the left, at the end of the bridge, and although he hadn't understood precisely what was happening, he showed everyone his flour-covered hands shouting: "I've got nothing to do with it, I swear! My hands are covered in dough only because I'm always preparing focaccia to bake in the oven."
And saying this he joined the others shouting: "Let's catch the thief red-handed before that sack becomes one of flour!"
In that commotion, Lapo, a very clever and curious boy, son of the goldsmith Bernardo who was friends with everyone and played together with the other children on the bridge, after reflecting thought: "There's something that doesn't add up: we children don't steal, whose fault can it be?"
So Lapo decided to investigate on his own. Because as his grandfather always told him: "one thing done is worth more than a hundred to do" and then he would add that "if you do it yourself you do for three."
So, without much ado, the following evening he organised himself, getting hold of a magnifying glass, a notebook with pencil to take notes and a lantern that would accompany him in the dark. The latter he held tight with a slightly trembling hand, but there was no hesitation — the situation wouldn't resolve itself.
At dusk, he set off from the Ponte Vecchio, where he lived with his father above the shop, towards the column in Piazza Santa Trinità.
Up there was, and still is, the Statue of Justice that towered so high as to touch the sky. The journey wasn't long, but that evening it took him longer than usual, because he observed everything with attention and curiosity. He looked right, left, in the narrow streets, beyond the parapet of the Lungarno and if he saw a stone he moved that too: "you never know where you might find clues" he thought.
He had heard it said that the column and the statue of Justice were magical and full of secrets. But the most amazing thing was that from its summit, where indeed the statue stood, one could see what was happening at every point in the city — as we know justice sees and knows everything.
Having arrived in Piazza Santa Trinita, he gave a great sigh, took one last step and at the foot of the column — what a surprise... he met a snail.
"A snail?" you will say. "Eh, exactly a snail complete with house on its shoulders, with lights on at the windows and a fireplace lit" Really, I tell you... Believe it... In short it was there, moving, slowly yes, but determined. When it heard the light step of the unexpected visitor, it became suspicious and withdrawing its antennae as if they were brakes, it stopped dead and said:
"Halt! Who goes there? But who are you and where are you going? You're not looking for trouble, are you, wandering about all alone at this twilight hour?"
"No, what trouble... quite the opposite Mrs Snail" replied Lapo, "I should go to the top of the column to see what's happening on the Ponte Vecchio. There are things that don't quite add up and I'm investigating. As you can see I even have the magnifying glass and hat!" Said Lapo showing the objects to avoid misunderstandings. "Now, since you seem to be from around here, you wouldn't happen to know how I can get up there?"
The snail who lived at the foot of the column and was to all intents and purposes its guardian, huffed but then smiled and showed Lapo a small door at the foot of the column, hidden by ivy.
"Dearest Lapo," she said adjusting her spectacles "you seem like a brave boy, a true friend and also a good investigator, but only from the top of the column will you be able to know the truth."
Having said this, the snail rubbed her tentacles and they began to shine with a magical light that enveloped Lapo making him become the height of the door which opened with a great creak; so sharp as to make all the birds that were hanging about in the night fly away.
Lapo, now very small, thanked the snail and without fear entered inside the column. In the darkness, he was impressed by a narrow and high well that went up instead of down. On the gleaming walls there was a spiral of tiny steps that he began to climb with determination with the lit lantern held tight in his hand. He reached the top.
In the night the starry sky illuminated the Statue of Justice that towered over Florence. It had a scale with two balanced plates in one hand and a golden sword in the other.
As we said previously, by enchantment, from there one could see the whole city — one just had to look in the right direction and think of the part of Florence you wanted to see: an incredible magic for a breathtaking view.
Now was the moment to concentrate on the Ponte Vecchio and try to solve the mystery of the thefts, but whilst moving around the statue, to go to the side that looked towards the river, he made an incredible discovery. He couldn't believe his own eyes — so much so that he took out the magnifying glass to be sure. Both plates of the scale were full of gold filings and precious trinkets.
"Good heavens! And how did this stuff get up here?" Exclaimed Lapo with wide eyes. "This is undoubtedly the loot from the thefts at the jewellery shops!"
At first, confused and amazed he didn't know what to think, but then, observing the filings more carefully he realised they were all woven together with bracelets and necklaces: these were two nests and an idea immediately flashed into his mind.
"The thieving magpies!" Exclaimed Lapo. Those crafty birds love everything that glitters, it must certainly have been them who robbed the shops and brought the stolen goods up here.
And in the middle of this thought, suddenly they appeared in flight. They landed on the column agitated and furious "KRAA KRAA KRAA! Oh, little boy but what are you doing at our home? Don't you even dare touch these glittering marvels; they are our nest, we found them and they are ours."
Lapo didn't let himself be frightened and calmly replied: "But what are you saying? You like glittering things that shine and you take them, but that certainly doesn't mean they are yours."
The magpies were all chattering together they seemed to have gone mad and knew no reason. "But what is this one saying?" Said one. "Right, someone comes to our home and expects to give orders?" Added another. "Yes, nice joke. They're not ours? But are you a comedian? Change job, look, because you don't make us laugh." Said another.
And all of them laughing.
At which Lapo didn't let himself be intimidated. He rummaged in his pocket and found what he was looking for. He proposed an exchange. "What if we made a deal. To tell the truth I lose out quite a bit, but I like you so much that I would gladly give you these beautiful shiny marbles in exchange for the gold and trinkets."
Seeing those small brilliant and colourful treasures, which they had never seen before, the magpies calmed down. They looked at each other with a crafty look and without hesitation... "Deal!"
They took the marbles from his hand in a flash and flew away shouting: "Hooray, we're rich! From now on we'll collect these little balls."
Sighing with relief and satisfaction, Lapo recovered the stolen goods and rushed down from the column. The snail was waiting for him applauding. With another spell she made him come out of the little door and appear right on the Ponte Vecchio where several Florentines were taking the evening air and chatting — including the goldsmiths.
"Papa, papa I've discovered the mystery and found the culprit, it was the thieving magpies! My friends didn't do anything wrong." "Calm down son, I'm listening". Replied Bernardo.
Lapo with all the breath he had in his throat didn't waste a moment and told everything he had discovered and seen: the investigator's hat, the magnifying glass, the magical snail who knew the secrets of the column, the little door, the statue at the top, the view of Florence, the thieving magpies and the trick with the coloured marbles. Finally the mystery of the strange thefts was clarified, all the recovered stolen goods were returned to the goldsmiths of the Ponte Vecchio thanks to the enterprising and brave Lapo.
At that point everyone who was on the Ponte Vecchio applauded shouting: "hooray, hooray, hooray, for the little investigator."
Whilst the ancient bridge, perhaps enchanted, gleamed with golden lights.
Giulio the baker whilst putting focaccia in the oven, sang merrily and with a ringing voice announced: "today focaccia for everyone free of charge, we must celebrate!"
The thieving magpies returned to flying; they continued to find small objects and even pieces of glittering dreams; and chattering they said: "It may well be that we've lost a nest, but we've certainly found a story to tell."
And perhaps, who knows, there will be a new story!
— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli [Inspired by a Florentine legend]
