Somehow, he had done it, gotten past the grief. He had not forgotten Simone—no way he ever would or could, nor did he want to—but he had moved forward.

He watched again as Simon lunged at the frog, missed again, tumbled and giggled, then another leap and grab, this time getting hold of the frog, which struggled in his hand. “Ooh!” Simon cried and looked back at Vincent, his arm outstretched to show off his prize. “Look!”

“Good catch,” Vincent said.

Simon cooed, the sun dappling his cheeks and bringing out the gold in his hair. Then, very consciously and deliberately, he opened his hand and watched the frog leap away.

“Go, frog,” he said. “Go!”

Vincent nodded and smiled. “Good boy,” he said, thinking how it was all in the game, in the chase and the capture. He thought of his time in prison, a memory starting to fade, as if it had happened to someone else. He thought of the promises he had made too, especially the one to Simone, that he would bring her the painting, a foolish promise that no longer mattered. What mattered was his last promise—to be happy—and he had kept it.

He pictured Simone pirouetting, her wide skirt lifting above her ankles, her luminous smile.

Simon took his time getting to his feet, somewhat unsteady, arms reaching up, and Vincent lifted him from the grass and held him, Simon gazing up at him with her face, Simone’s face. Then the boy threw his arms around Vincent’s neck. “Papa,” he said, and Vincent felt his heart opening so wide he thought it might burst. He hugged the boy, who nestled in the crook of his neck, looked past his golden curls to the stone house he had bought and refurbished, the bushes and shrubs he had planted, finally starting to bloom. He was no longer the immigrant, the drifter, the man without an identity. He was home now, a man with his son.

Author’s Note

What you have just read is based on a true story.

These are the facts:

Vincent Peruggia, a one-time Louvre employee, stole the Mona Lisa from the museum on August 21, 1911. The details of the theft have been reenacted in the opening scene—how Peruggia spent the night in a museum closet, removed the painting from the wall, and left the frame and box he himself had constructed in a hallway—all this based on reports of the crime.

The newspaper stories about the theft have been taken from actual articles.

It is also true that Peruggia hid the painting in a specially designed trunk in his apartment and that he attempted to ransom the painting to the Italian government at the Uffizi Museum, where he was arrested and sent to Murate Prison, in Florence, Italy.

After the theft, the Louvre Museum did close for a week and was searched by sixty policemen.

All the rewards mentioned in the novel are true: the Louvre posted a reward of 25,000 francs, as did the two newspapers, Le Matin, which offered 5,000 and L’Illustration, which offered 40,000.