crypt.
Tony pointed his flashlight into the crypt and the first thing they saw was a round porcelain urn. It was turquoise in color with flowers etched all the way around it.
As Tony, started searching the crypt with the flashlight, everybody held their breath with anticipation. A moment later, the light from the flashlight shone on a long black case, the size of a violin case, with an envelope lying on top of it.
Father reached in, and took out the envelope. He opened it, pulled out a letter and began to read it aloud.
“August twenty eight, 1929. This letter shall serve as an official document, as to the ownership of this violin. I have given permission to Antonio Giovanni; age sixty five, of Philadelphia, to keep this violin hidden in his brother’s vault for safekeeping, until he or his heirs deem it safe to remove it.”
“This violin is a family heirloom in the Giovanni family and has been so, for several generations. This violin belongs to Antonio Giovanni and his heirs. I have given him my sacred word that the church shall lay no claim to this violin, nor charge him fees for storing it for him” The letter was signed “Father Christopher Allen, Senior Parish Priest.”
Father John reached into the crypt and carefully removed the violin case. He turned around and handed the case to Tony. “I believe this belongs to your family,” said Father John. “You should have the honor of opening it.”
The four of them then climbed up the stairs and went into Father John’s office, with Tony clutching the violin case to his chest.
Tony placed the case on the desk and carefully opened it up. Mere words could not describe the joy he felt when he laid eyes on the beautiful violin. He carefully removed the violin from the case and examined it.
Having been underground for seventy-five years had apparently done it no harm. It was very old, but it was in excellent condition for its age. He gently laid it back in the case and closed the lid.
Mara asked Father John if he could give them a ride home, as they did not want to take the violin on the city bus.
When Father John dropped them off at Tony’s house, they both thanked him again and said goodbye.
As Tony and Mara entered the house, they both called out to their parents, but there was no answer.
Tony saw a note that his mother had left for him. It said that she, his father, and Mara’s parents had all gone sightseeing and would be home by that afternoon.
Mara suggested that they examine the violin closely, for markings that might tell when it was made. Tony was hoping that it was a Stradivarius violin.
As Tony carefully turned the violin over, he looked for any mark that would identify the violin’s maker.
Mara noticed some lettering inscribed on the bottom of the violin. Some had faded and were not visible. Mara wrote down what letters and numbers that she could identify, “ndre, Ama, I, Cremona,and DLXIII.”
The violin was reddish brown and was made of some kind of hard wood.
Mara asked Tony if she could use his computer to help her make sense of the partial inscription. Tony showed her where the computer was and logged her into the internet.
While Mara was doing research on the computer, Tony began to tune the violin. After about twenty minutes, Mara found what she was looking for. She double-checked and triple checked the data, because it was just so incredible.
Just as she printed the info, Tony walked into the room. He asked Mara if she would like to hear him play the violin. Before he could play a note, Mara held up her hand to stop him. “Tony”, she said. I think that your grandfather should be here when you play it for the first time. After all, he has been waiting for almost eighty years.”
Tony agreed and he put the violin down.
Just then, they heard the front door open and they hurried into the front room to tell the news. “Mom, Dad” shouted Tony “We found the violin, or rather Mara did.”
They proceeded to tell their parents the entire story. Tony opened the case and showed them the violin.
“It’s beautiful,” said Mrs. Louis “How old is it?”
“Mara was doing some research on the internet,” said Tony. Now all eyes were on Mara.
“Well, the bad news is that it is not a Stradivarius.”
“What’s the good news?” asked Tony.
Mara could not hold the news in any longer. “This violin was made by the famous violin maker Andrea Amati, in Cremona, Italy in the year 1563, long before Stradivarius was born. This violin is over four hundred and forty years old.”
“Amati was one of the first one to start making the modern four string violin. One of his violins recently sold at auction for over two million dollars.”
For a moment, no one said anything. Tony was so excited that he gave Mara a big hug and kissed her smack on the lips. When he realized what he had just done, he quickly apologized to Mara.
Mara told him that it was okay. “It was actually quite nice,” she said with a dazed look on her face, which made Tony’s face turn beet red.
Tony suddenly remembered something. “Mara, how can I ever thank you for solving this seventy five year mystery?” he asked.
“Well”, said Mara, “How about inviting your grandfather over to hear you play his violin. Then, I will be able to hear you play it as well, before we have to go back to Baltimore. I have never heard anyone play the violin as beautifully as you do, Tony.”
Mara was looking at Tony like a star struck fan. It made Tony blush and their mothers smile.
That evening, when Antonio Giovanni arrived at the house, Mara told him that Tony had a surprise for him. Suddenly, music filled the air.
Tony entered the room, playing on the family heirloom violin. Fifteen minutes later, when Tony finished playing the piece, Mara was not the only one with tears in her eyes. Both moms and Tony’s grandfather were crying as well.
Tony handed the violin to his grandfather. “Here, Grandpa. It took over seventy-five years to find it, but it is all yours, now.
Antonio looked at the Amati violin, then at Tony, and then he shook his head. “No, Tony”, he said. “It’s not mine anymore. This violin now belongs to you.”
Tony tried to refuse it, but his grandfather insisted.
“Tony”, he said, “I can play the notes, But, I don’t have the gift of music as you do. You can make music come out of that violin that can only be matched by an angelic choir in Heaven.”
“This violin was made for you, and it has waited patiently for you. Mark my words, Tony. Someday, you will be one of the best violinists in the world.”
Then, Antonio motioned for Mara to sit with him on the couch. He gave her a big hug and thanked her. “You are a great detective, Mara, and a remarkable young woman. Because of you, I was able to hear my grandson play this violin, before I leave this world. Tony is lucky to have a friend as special as you are.
Mara and Tony explained how they found the violin, and what they had learned about the age and value of the violin.
The next morning, it was time for Mara and her parents to head back to Baltimore, but not before Mrs. Giovanni took photos of Mara, Tony and the Violin.
As Mara and Tony’s parents said goodbye to each other, Mara and Tony also said goodbye to each other.
Mara told Tony, that when he played at Carnegie Hall, in New York, she had better get a free ticket.
“If I ever make it to Carnegie Hall,” laughed Tony, you will have a front row seat.”
Mara got a serious look on her face, and she said, “I have no doubt that you will make it to Carnegie Hall and beyond. I have listened to a lot of classical music, and have never heard anything as beautiful in my life, as I did these past two days.”
The two of them hugged each other and then hugged each other’s parents. Mara thanked Tony’s parents for their hospitality and great food.
Just befo
re Mara got back into the car, she ran up to Tony, gave him a kiss, and then ran back to the car and got in.
On the drive back to Baltimore, Mara did not say much. She was so sad because she had to say goodbye to Tony. She had never felt that way about a boy before.
The next week, which was the beginning of the new school year, many students at Mara’s school, were congratulating her. Mara asked them what they were talking about.
One of her friends showed Mara a copy of that day’s newspaper. The headline read, “Twelve year old Baltimore girl solves seventy five year old mystery and finds 440 year old priceless violin.” There was a picture of her and Tony and Tony’s grandfather holding the priceless violin. It was the picture that Tony’s mom took just before Mara and her parents left Philadelphia. “Tony must have contacted the newspapers”, thought Mara.
As Mara read the article, an eighth grader came up to her and asked if she if she was the girl who solved mysteries.
“Yes, I am” replied Mara.
“I’m Scott Wilson. My family recently moved here from Los Angeles. My friend Betsy and I have a mystery on our hands that we could use help with if you are interested.”
As soon as Mara heard the word ‘mystery’, she went into autopilot; “Who? What? Where? When? Why? How?” That was all that she could say.
“Well”, said Scott, “my friend, Betsy, lives in the White House, and that’s where the mystery is.”
All of a sudden, Mara knew why Scott looked so familiar. “You’re the boy who saved the life of