The Roman (The Florentine 3)

It had been a long night.

“Language,” Julia chided him, frowning at him over the baby’s head.

He ignored her rebuke, scrolling through a few pages on his computer.

“What is it?” She walked toward him, but he closed the laptop with a snap.

“Don’t look.”

Her eyebrows crinkled. “Why not?”

Gabriel ran his fingers through his tousled hair. “Do you remember the carabinieri officer who was assigned to investigate the Uffizi robbery?”

“Yes, what about him?”

“He’s dead.”

“Dead?” Julia’s hand went to Clare’s head, as if by covering her she could protect her.

“Murdered.” Gabriel gestured to his laptop. “There are photographs of the body, all over the internet.”

“They shouldn’t post pictures like that. Have they no respect for his family?”

Gabriel cursed again, his hands in his hair.

“The poor man.” Julia snuggled Clare into her shoulder. “I wonder if he had children.”

“This is also bad for us.” Gabriel’s blue eyes blazed. “The inspector’s body was posed near the Uffizi. Someone is making a statement.”

“You mean the robbery is connected to the murder?”

“It’s possible. Actually, it’s more than possible. It’s likely. He was the lead investigator. Those illustrations are worth a lot of money. Perhaps he was close to finding them.”

“What about the strange man who came to see you in Umbria? Do you think he’s involved?” Julia held Clare even more tightly, bouncing her lightly as she whimpered.

Gabriel stood, pushing his chair aside. “I’m going to call Vitali. It’s morning there, and I’m sure he will have heard the news.”

“Gabriel…” Julia faltered, her gaze moving from her child to her husband. “That man threatened you. Are we in danger?”

“I’ll know more once I speak to Vitali, but it’s too much of a coincidence. I’m not taking any chances, not with you and Clare.”

“What are we going to do?”

“After I speak with Vitali, we’re going to pack our bags and head to Logan Airport. We’re going to be on the next flight out. Once we’re out of Boston, we can decide where to go next.”

He placed his arms around his family and kissed his wife’s temple. “We’ll be traveling west.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

THE GREAT COUNCIL CHAMBER was empty, save for the Prince and his head of security.

Gregor approached the throne and bowed, keeping his head lowered.

The Prince huffed impatiently. “Out with it.”

“I’m sorry, my Lord. News of the policeman’s death has been widely reported. Because the body was found as the sun was rising, witnesses were able to take photographs.”

“I am well aware of the security services’ failure. Have you anything new to report?”

“The human intelligence network was able to secure the body, but not before a preliminary autopsy was conducted.”

The Prince banged his fist against the armrest. “How could they be so careless?”

Gregor felt for his neck. “It’s a high profile case, my Lord. The autopsy was conducted immediately.”

“You are head of security. Have you made any progress in finding the killer?”

Gregor cleared his throat. “The security services have been speaking to the brethren. No one admits killing him, but the policeman was seen near Teatro before his death. A hooded figure was caught on videotape. He appears to have abducted the policeman.”

The Prince leaned forward on his throne. “You have a suspect. Good. Are you sure the figure is male?”

“Yes, my Lord. For various reasons, we used footage of Lady Aoibhe as a comparison. In size and in proportion, the figure was male. If I may be allowed to speculate, the figure put me in mind of Ibarra.”

“Have you spoken with Aoibhe?”

“No, my Lord. Many witnesses can attest to her presence at Teatro before and after the abduction. Since then, we have been unable to locate her.”

The Prince’s eyes alighted on the empty chair in which Aoibhe sat during Consilium meetings. “If Ibarra is still in the city, he must be found, and quickly.”

“Yes, my Lord. I have been hunting him personally, but he is elusive.” Gregor shuffled his feet.

The Prince’s eagle eyes noticed Gregor’s movement. “I take it you have more to report?”

“Yes, my Lord. La Nazione has published an article detailing the dead policeman’s investigation of the Uffizi robbery. The reporter claims to have access to the inspector’s private papers. He is demanding that the carabinieri and Interpol take up the investigation, and that they pursue the prime suspect.”

“And who is the prime suspect?”

“William York.”

The Prince pinned his assistant to the spot with his glare. “How was this allowed to happen?”

Gregor looked up at the ruler in acute distress. “Our intelligence network had no knowledge of a connection between the policeman and the reporter. It seems materials were transferred from one to the other with the instruction that they should be made public should something untimely occur.”

William’s hands curved into fists. “We are just learning of this now? After the entire world has read about it?”

Gregor winced. “Yes, my Lord. The article also reports that the files have been transferred to Interpol. Even if we were to deal with the reporter, the information will have been seen by numerous people.”

“Where do we stand?”

“Someone from the medical team leaked details of the autopsy to the press. It’s being reported that the human’s body was drained of blood prior to death and that there were bite marks on his neck.”

The Prince lifted a gold chalice from a nearby table and threw it across the council chamber. It struck the back wall, which was hewn from stone, and shattered on impact.

“Tell me the newspapers aren’t mentioning vampyres.”

Gregor swallowed noisily. “I cannot tell you that, my Lord. However, they are also mentioning Satanists.”

“If only the Satanists would claim responsibility,” the Prince muttered. “I expect the Curia is already on its way.”

“In this respect, I can offer good news, my Lord. Word from Rome is that the Curia are merely observing, too wary of the Roman to act against his ally.”

“That is something positive.” The Prince straightened. “Order the human intelligence network to manufacture evidence supporting an alternative scenario, one that would implicate someone other than a vampyre. Satan-worshippers are convenient enough.

“Deal with the reporter, and identify a new suspect related to the Uffizi robbery—someone from the security staff.”

“With what evidence, my Lord?”

“With whatever evidence can be created in a short period of time,” the Prince growled. “The human intelligence network is supposed to be intelligent. Tell them to use their heads.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

The Prince fixed his head of security with a severe look. “The security service needs to find Ibarra and bring him to me. I shall go in pursuit of Aoibhe.

“See that we have troops posted at our borders in case of an incursion, and contact our spies in Rome. I want to know if we can expect any reaction from the Curia.

“Send word to the Roman as a courtesy, thanking him for our alliance and reassuring him that I am in control of the principality and all security risks will be dealt with expeditiously.” He paused. “And Gregor, take care to improve your service.”

“Absolutely, my Lord.”

Gregor bowed and raced from the council chamber as if the hounds of hell were chasing him.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

RAVEN WAS IN THE HALLWAY looking for William when she heard voices from behind the closed doors of his library. Without bothering to knock, she entered the room.

Lucia and Ambrogio stood at the far end of the library, in front of William’s desk.

William beckoned to her as he concluded his instructions. “To Geneva. But only in dire circumstances.”

“Yes, my Lord.” The servants replied in unison.

“You are dismissed.”

The two humans bowed and left the library, nodding at Raven as they exited.

She leaned on her cane as she crossed to his desk. “What’s in Geneva?”

“The Trivium.”

“What’s that?”

“My bank.” William came out from behind his desk. He took her hands in his. “If you need to flee Florence, go to Via San Zanobi, number thirty-three. Ask for Sarah. She will provide you with safe passage out of the city.”

“You’ve told me this before.” She searched his eyes. “Has something changed?”

“A newspaper has printed the story of Batelli’s death. They mentioned my name and yours.”

Raven was horrified. “Why?”

“Batelli was investigating us in connection with the robbery of the Uffizi.”

“But that’s a lie! I was interviewed, but I was never an official suspect.”

“The newspaper is reporting what Batelli recorded in his personal papers.”