The Roman (The Florentine 3)
“I want to continue volunteering at the orphanage. I’m grateful I was able to go back this week.
“I enjoy my work at the Uffizi. We will be starting work on one of Artemesia Gentileschi’s paintings in September. I’d like to continue being part of that team.”
“I shall do everything in my power to ensure you are safe enough to do that.”
Raven smiled, for the thought made her happy. “I’d like to continue working on your collection as well, especially the Michelangelo.”
“Everything I own is at your disposal.” He kissed her fingertips, one by one. “Peace will come to my city, and I shall be able to take you abroad.”
“You would take me to see my sister?”
“I was in America over a century ago. I should probably pay another visit.”
“Thank you.” She drew him down to sit next to her and leaned her head against his shoulder. “What are your dreams?”
He placed his arm around her.
“To spend as much time inside you as possible.” He gave her a meaningful look before taking her mouth.
Chapter Thirty-Four
ISPETTOR BATELLI SMOKED a lonely cigarette around the corner from the underground club. He’d spent the last few days working on the new case he’d been assigned, while continuing his surveillance of the club after hours.
He was tired, he was frustrated, but he was determined.
Tonight was the night. He was going to find a way inside the building.
He’d already noticed the comings and goings of men and women of various ages. He’d marked the bouncer who stood in the alley outside the only visible entrance to the entire building.
He had to admit, the bouncers were exceptional. They were large, they were intimidating, and they never, ever took a break. Batelli wondered about the size of their bladders.
He extinguished his cigarette and moved into position, standing across the street. From this shadowed vantage point, he could see the bouncer and the door, but hopefully, the bouncer couldn’t see him.
Batelli had only been in his new position ten minutes when the door to the club swung outward.
“Never return,” an ominous voice warned.
A man of medium height held two larger men by the scruff of their necks. With a strength that belied his slim stature, the man threw them past the bouncer and toward the opposite wall.
They crashed into the wall and fell to the ground, motionless.
“Banned for life,” the man ordered, speaking to the bouncer. “They insulted Lady Aoibhe.”
Batelli’s ears pricked up at the unfamiliar name.
With a nod, the man retreated into the club, closing the door behind him.
The bouncer walked over to the two men, who appeared conscious but dazed.
He lifted them, one on each side of his large body, and dragged them out of the alley and down the street.
Batelli wasted no time in sprinting toward the club’s door. He tried prying it open, but to no avail.
He looked around for a security panel or keypad, but could find nothing.
He glanced over his shoulder. The alley was still empty.
But time was short.
He curled his fingers around the edge of the door, groping for some kind of latch.
“What do we have here?”
Batelli jerked away from the door.
A hooded figure stood at the closed end of the alley, having materialized out of the darkness.
Batelli took a step back. He’d checked the alley only a moment before. It had been empty.
The figure cocked its head to one side. “And you are?”
“Lorenzo,” Batelli lied. “I’m just meeting a friend.”
“I knew someone named Lorenzo. He didn’t have any friends.” The figure paused. “And neither do you.”
Without warning, the figure flew toward Batelli and grabbed him, before scaling the side of Teatro and climbing to the roof.
Chapter Thirty-Five
JUST BEFORE SUNRISE, Patrick Wong and Gina Molinari wandered into the Piazza Signoria, near the Loggia dei Lanzi.
It had been one of those restless, hot summer nights. They’d had a late dinner and gone to a bar with friends. One drink turned into several, and they’d moved to a dance club. Then they’d proceeded to another bar.
They hadn’t stayed out this late in a very long time. Even though they were exhausted and intoxicated, they decided to take a detour to the piazza and walk around a little.
The piazza was empty—a rare occurrence—as if the beautiful space had been reserved simply for the pair of lovers.
They wandered over to the Loggia and began to kiss, their bodies backing against one of the stone pillars. A carved lion stared down at them.
Patrick smiled at his beloved, his fingers playing with her hair.
She hugged him, and he reciprocated, his eyes closing.
When they opened, he found himself gazing up at the statue of Menelaus and Patroclus, which stood at the center of the Loggia. It was not a particularly romantic scene.
Patrick stared drunkenly at Menelaus’ helmet. Then he lifted his eyes to look above it.
Suspended from the ceiling was a long, iron chain. At the end of the chain was a hook, which had been embedded in the abdomen of a naked body.
Patrick pulled away from Gina and stumbled up the stairs. He rubbed his eyes, fearing he was hallucinating.
But no, at the end of the iron chain that hung from the top of the Loggia was suspended a dead man—limbs outstretched, head back. He was naked and covered in blood.
Gina screamed.
Patrick stumbled to her side. He leaned against a pillar and retched, the contents of his stomach splashing on the ground.
He retched again.
Gina supported him at the waist, murmuring worriedly in his ear.
When he’d finished, he wiped his mouth with his shirtsleeve and stared out at the piazza.
It was empty.
He took Gina’s hand and led her away from the Loggia, to the center of the piazza.. He retrieved his cell phone and shakily dialed the police.
“I found a body,” he stammered, staring up at the corpse that hung from the Loggia.
Chapter Thirty-Six
A KNOCKING SOUND woke Raven from a very sound sleep. William, who lay naked beside her, rose from the bed and wrapped himself in an antiquated dressing gown.
She rolled to her side, unwilling to open her eyes.
She heard the door open.
“What is it?” William?
??s tone was curt.
“Forgive the interruption, my Lord.” Ambrogio was almost stuttering. “There’s been an incident.”
“What kind of incident?”
Raven opened her eyes to see William move into the hallway, closing the door on his conversation.
She heard murmurs from the hall but couldn’t make out the words, until William swore, loudly.
He re-entered the bedroom and strode to one of the closets, removing a set of clothes.
Raven sat up. “What is it?”
“Ispettor Batelli’s body is hanging from a meat hook in the Loggia dei Lanzi.” William tossed his dressing gown to the floor and began to pull on his trousers.
“What?”
“Photographs of the scene have been made public. The Curia will have learned of it by now.”
“Are you in danger?”
William turned his head.
His expression softened. “No, my lark. But I must act immediately.”
He continued dressing as she blinked away sleep. “Why would someone kill Batelli?”
William buttoned his shirt. “It’s the posing of the body that is more telling. He was positioned in a public place, just as the sun was rising. Whoever did it knew our attempts at covering up the kill would be hampered by the sun.”
“You don’t think the Curia did this?”
“It’s possible. But it’s more likely this was a vampyre, looking to attack me personally.”
“How?”
“By exposing my connection to the illustrations and those cursed Emersons. By exposing my connection to you.” He moved to her side and kissed her deeply. “Be careful. Be alert. I’d prefer you didn’t leave the villa today, but if you do, please have Ambrogio inform me. Be sure to take the security guards with you.”
He disappeared through the door.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Gabriel Emerson clasped his head with both hands as he stared in shock at the image on his laptop.
He was seated at the kitchen table in his house in Harvard Square, keeping Julia company. Clare had an ear infection and had spent most of the evening crying. Julia held the child in her arms, pacing the kitchen floor in an attempt to soothe her.