“Then what?” asked Carter. “I mean, besides the watch, do you have a message or something you want me to give your brother?”

Giancarlo pondered the question for a time.

“Yes,” he said at last. “Tell him that he need not send the watch anymore.Tell him it’s broken, and it cannot be repaired.”

“That’s all?”

“I think that should cover it.”

Carter sat back, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to imagine how the future encounter would play out.

“Well,” he said after a moment’s reflection, “I suppose it’s going to be a very short visit.”

“That,” said his teacher, “will be up to you.”

With that Giancarlo clapped his hands together once and opened his palms wide, as if to signal there was nothing left to say. Carter took this gesture as his cue that the lesson had come to an end, and that it was finally time for him to leave. He slid the pocket watch back into its pouch and tucked it safely in his pocket.Then he collected his things and followed Giancarlo out to the front hall.

“So,” Giancarlo said as he opened the door, “I assume your passport and travel arrangements are all in order.”

“Oh yeah,” nodded Carter. “All systems are go.”

“Then that means there’s no turning back now,” said his teacher.

“I guess not,” chuckled Carter. “Any last-minute advice for me?”

Giancarlo shook his head and looked at him with a smile that struck Carter as almost fatherly.

“No,” he replied, “I think you have learned just about all that I can teach you. From now on, you are on your own.”

Carter took a deep breath and let it out.

“In that case, I guess it’s arriverderci, Professore,” he said.

Giancarlo nodded and gave him a sly look.

“Arriverderci, Signor Carter Quinn,” he said with a gleam in his eye. “And buon viaggio!”

Then he patted Carter on the shoulder and sent him on his way.

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 23

Carter stood in the center of his living room, scratching his head as he stared at the piles of clothes and shoes, travel books, toiletries, and a variety of other items spread about him on the floor. It was early in the afternoon a week later, the day he was to leave for Italy. His flight out of Boston was scheduled to depart that evening at six fifteen, but he was only just now beginning to pack his bag.Where, he wondered, had the week gone? He had planned to pack his bag well in advance, certainly no later than the night before, but there had always been something else to do. His mother had offered to come home and help him, but Carter insisted on doing it by himself. It was a decision he was beginning to regret.