"Leave it to de Italian mob to know deir art," he grumbled and tapped the paper. "Dat's Our Lady of de Rose, a carved statue dat darkens every year due to de wood. Was a relic in... Eastern France, either stolen by de facists or taken to be hidden during de war."
He wiggled two fingers. "De rumor is either de Vatican or a influential neo-socialist Polish elite has it now. De reality, like usual, is even stranger."
He grinned and nodded. This was going to be a fun one, that was for sure.