Cécile’s flight of fancy in imagining Marzo’s life as a master of disguise was an amusing absurdity, but it did raise an interesting point. He might well have been selling his information to someone other than Darius. I told Colin as much that evening after dinner, when we’d retired to our room.
“I quite agree the theory has merit,” he said. “It was one of the first things Darius and I considered, which is why we have done everything possible to investigate it. Ultimately, we found no evidence whatsoever.”
“Is that so surprising?” I asked. “Surely he would have taken measures to ensure his duplicity wouldn’t be exposed.”
“And if he had done so successfully, he wouldn’t have been murdered.” Colin frowned. “I wish I could tell you more. I will share this much: we have determined that whoever killed him did so to stop him from giving the British sensitive information about Germany.”
“Do you know the nature of the information?”
“I do.”
“So what now?”
“It’s unlikely we will ever know the identity of the assassin,” he said. “At this point, however, it doesn’t matter. We know the Germans gave the order and we will adapt our own work accordingly.”
“Why the Germans? How did they come into this? And what about Lena?” I asked. “Are we to believe her death is unrelated?”
“Not at all.”
I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. “And the Russian connection?”
“There is no Russian connection. The Germans also killed Signore di Taro.”
“How can you be so sure about all this?”
“I cannot tell you that.”
“What about the coat of arms? Is it a coincidence that it appeared on the envelope Lena received the morning of her murder?”
“No. The Germans, knowing she and Marzo had been searching for the infamous treasure, exploited it to lure her to the Medici Chapel.”
“What evidence do we have that they were searching for the treasure?” I asked. He did not answer. “Why would the Germans kill Signore di Taro?”
“That had nothing to do with Lena or Marzo.”
“I can’t believe that. Was it because he was the one supplying Marzo’s information?” I asked, trying to swallow my frustration. “I understand that you can’t share details with me, but are you satisfied with the conclusions you’ve drawn?”
He sat down. “No, Emily, I’m not. The evidence gives us an ironclad explanation of everything that has happened. Too ironclad, if you ask me. I’ve never seen anything so perfectly tied up.”
“What about the fact that we now know Tessa was in love with Marzo? She has a powerful motive for murder. If she killed him and Lena, shouldn’t she be punished?”
“She didn’t kill either of them.”
“What does Darius think?”
“He agrees, but there’s nothing more to be done. The Crown is satisfied.”
“Does that happen often, them telling you to stop before you’re satisfied?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “Not even I, Emily, am fully informed about all aspects of every operation.”
“Could the Crown have wanted Marzo dead? Go back to our earlier meritorious theory, when we suspected him of double-dealing. Surely the Crown wouldn’t have tolerated that. Would they have ordered him killed to stop someone else from getting the information he was supplying?”
“It’s entirely possible.”
“And if they did?”
“They would only take that sort of action if it were absolutely necessary.”
“And might they then send in two of their best and most trusted agents to conduct the investigation? I would. Who would doubt the conclusions of two such agents, even if they were based on the evidence supplied by the Crown? The matter would be closed forever.”
“Yes.”
“Does that not outrage you?”
“No, Emily, it doesn’t. This is not something into which they would have entered lightly. I trust the judgment of the men for whom I work. If I didn’t, I could not do my job.”
“All men are fallible,” I said.
“Indeed, but in this case, I see no reason to doubt the decisions from above. I know that will not satisfy your own curiosity, but it is all I can offer.”
He might be able to rationalize unsatisfactory conclusions, but I could not, not when I wasn’t privy to any of the evidence. Still, it would not help to prod him further. Better to let him think I would let it all go. “I suppose I knew from the start I was unlikely to know how things were resolved, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“No, it doesn’t.” He touched my cheek. “Are you willing to step away?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You always have a choice.”
I did not want to lie to him, but in the circumstances, what better course of action was there for me? “I will step away, unless something comes to light that compels me to do otherwise.” Not a lie. Not precisely.
“What will you tell Cécile?”
“The truth. The matter is settled, even if in ways we can never know. She won’t like it any more than I, but what else can we do?”
“Thank you,” he said.
“Please don’t thank me.”
He studied my face and I could see in his eyes that he knew I had no intention of doing what I’d just promised. “Emily—”
“Don’t,” I said. “A lady can’t share all of her secrets, even with a beloved husband. Best that we find some way to distract ourselves. Isn’t that your general prescription in such circumstances?”
“I’m beginning to have a great appreciation for the restraint you show when I am obliged to keep information from you.”
I balked. “Restraint? Restraint? I’ve never been accused of such an abominable thing.”
“I was being facetious, my dear. About the restraint, not the admiration I have for how you contend with what I force you to tolerate.”
“I do appreciate that,” I said, “and hope you are capable of reacting with more grace and patience than I am wont to do.”
“It’s unlikely I can, so you ought to start with that distraction now.” He kissed my neck.
“You’re the one being distracting.”
He pulled away. “I’ll stop and leave it all to you.”
I came down to breakfast before Cécile and waited, rather impatiently, for her to emerge from her morning ablutions. When she did, I explained that Colin and Darius had finished their investigation and wanted us to do the same. She was no more inclined to abandon our work than I, and rejected outright the notion that the Germans had killed Marzo and Lena.
“Not to mention Signore di Taro,” she said. “I refuse to accept such absurd conclusions with no evidence.”
“I quite agree. But is it any more likely that the Crown ordered their deaths?”
“I shouldn’t think so.”
“Nor do I. The coat of arms is a clue we can’t ignore, and it’s one that points us back to the treasure. Someone connected to the murders is looking for it, of that I am convinced.” I pressed my lips together. “I have not been entirely honest about all of this with you, Cécile. I told Colin from the beginning that we were investigating. He supported that, but only so long as I kept him abreast of everything we discovered, which I’ve done. He didn’t want you to know and I agreed to his terms. I’m sorry I deceived you.”
She shrugged. “Kallista, I never for one moment doubted that you were telling him everything. He is far too handsome to resist.”
“Can you forgive me?”
“There is nothing to forgive. I have told you many times that we all have the need for secrets. I will never share all of mine and would expect nothing else from you. A little mystery is not a bad thing, but I do expect you to tell me whatever it is you managed to get out of him. I suspect he is little better at resisting your charms than you are at resisting his.”
There was sadly little to reveal, but I went through the case for her, detailing every discussion I’d had with Colin about it. Before we could decide how to proceed, the gentlemen entered the room, both in a jovial mood.
“Now that this sad business is behind us, it’s time we make the most of Florence,” Darius said. “Have you two been to the Accademia yet? We could go this afternoon. You can’t leave the city without seeing Michelangelo’s David.”
“Non, monsieur,” Cécile said. “I find myself unable to enjoy the delights of Florence when this sad business, as you call it, is resolved in a manner thoroughly unsatisfactory to me.”
“Cécile, I—”
She interrupted Colin. “I am not interested in any explanation that does not include the name of the vile murderer who has caused so much chaos and grief. As you cannot share that with us, I would prefer to spend the day here, reading. Monsieur Le Queux’s fictional spies are far more satisfying than the two of you real ones.”
“Cécile, we’re not spies,” Darius said.
“Style yourselves however you like,” she said. “I will eventually forgive you both your shortcomings, but not today. That’s how it is with us ladies. We may have to accept the limitations of what your work allows you to share with us, but that does not mean we can’t punish you, at least a little, for excluding us. Now, can you please find it in your hearts to leave us in peace? Go to the museum. Gaze upon David.” She looked at Colin, and I could see her resolve wavering. She wanted to compare him to the statue.
“Or don’t gaze upon David,” I said. “Why not travel farther afield? Take a drive in the countryside. Cécile may want to stay here and read, but I’d prefer a long walk through the city. A long walk during which I don’t have to worry that I’ll run into you.”
“We’re quite thoroughly in disgrace, Hargreaves,” Darius said. “It’s best we flee. I don’t fancy the countryside, however. Let’s climb to the top of Brunelleschi’s dome instead.”
“I’m game,” Colin said. He came around the table and gave me a quick kiss. “If you won’t let things lie, at least promise me you will be careful,” he whispered.
“You need not worry,” I murmured against his neck. “We’ve no plan to do anything today. I’m not even sure where we would start. Tomorrow, however…”
He kissed my cheek, reassured by my words, and looked up as Tessa entered, announcing that Signore Bastieri was at the door. I had not rejected my suspicions of her, regardless of what Colin had said about her not being guilty. She couldn’t have carried Marzo to the roof, and I doubted she had the skill with a knife to have killed Lena with a single blow, but she might very well have been working with someone else. Someone trained as an assassin, either by the Germans or the Crown. Someone who wanted the treasure, for I was still convinced there was a connection between the murders and whatever had been hidden in the house during the Renaissance.
I told the maid to let in Signore Bastieri, whom I introduced to the gentlemen. He looked a mess, his hair unkempt, his face drawn and pale. I doubted he’d eaten in days, so I encouraged him to fill his plate with food from the sideboard. He did so, but only half-heartedly, and explained why he’d come.
“I’ve found that coat of arms on six buildings,” he said.
“So many?” I asked. “Surely that’s unusual.”
“Not necessarily,” he said. “Wealthy families might own more than one house, or maybe their supporters displayed the arms to show their loyalty.”
“What arms are these?” Darius asked.
“The ones that were on the letter my daughter received the morning she was killed,” Signore Bastieri said. “I’m convinced they will lead us to her killer, and the treasure you seek, Lady Emily. With luck, we will have it in our hands today.”
I flashed a frantic look at my husband and nodded toward the door, hoping he would understand that I wanted him to leave rather than to choose this moment to give whatever pathetic explanation he and Darius had agreed to share with the grieving father.
“I’m so very sorry for your loss, signore,” Colin said. “When this sort of awful thing happens, we cannot help but yearn for an explanation that provides solace. Sometimes, though, there is none.”
“What are you saying?” Signore Bastieri said. “Do you know who killed Lena, or are you telling me that we will never catch the murderer?”
“We’re close to unmasking him, Signore Bastieri,” Darius said. “Very close. My colleague is only trying to save you from disappointment. I am familiar with the arms to which you refer, and was myself excited about the prospect of them leading us to the killer, but they are nothing more than a deliberate misdirection, leading away from the man responsible for your daughter’s death.”
“How can you know this?” Signore Bastieri asked.
“Because we followed the same trail,” Darius said. “It caused us to lose valuable time.”
“But you are close to catching him?”
“We are. In fact, it is likely we will have firm information for you later today,” he said. “If you’ll excuse us, the sooner we get to it, the sooner we’ll have answers for you.”
I hated the false hope we were giving the poor man.
“Thank you for your work, all of you,” Signore Bastieri said. “I know it will not bring her back, but if this man is brought to justice, it will give me a little peace.”
“We will do everything in our power to see that happens,” Colin said.
If only that were true.
When they were gone, I turned to our guest, who had hardly touched the food on his plate. “I believe it’s significant that you found the arms on so many buildings. It may not lead to the murderer, but I am certain it will provide a fuller explanation for what happened to Lena. To explain, I should share with you some Latin graffiti from the walls of this house.” I pulled out my notebook and went through it with him and then showed him the letter that Signore Tazzera had found with the coat of arms on it. This proved an adequate distraction. He finally started to eat. His eggs had long gone cold, so I rang for fresh ones and poured him another coffee.
“I will show you my map now,” he said, as he accepted the steaming cup. “I have marked the houses on which I found the arms.” He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and passed it to me. The pattern was identical to the locations of the graffiti I’d found in our palazzo. Two of the houses were on this side of the river, the rest across the Arno, mirroring the two graffiti on our first floor and four on the second.
“This is remarkable,” I said. “If we—”
A piercing scream interrupted me. We raced from the dining room and saw Tessa on the gallery landing below, just outside Cécile’s bedroom.
“Please come quickly,” she shouted. “We need a doctor.”
“Find Fredo and have him go after Mr. Hargreaves and Mr. Benton-Smith,” I called down to her. “They went to the cathedral, to climb up the dome.”
“I can’t do that, signora,” Tessa said, tears streaming down her face. “It’s Fredo who’s hurt.”
“I will find your husband and Signore Benton-Smith,” Signore Bastieri said. “They are no doubt still at the Duomo.” He ran out of the house while Cécile and I went to Tessa, who was shaking uncontrollably.
“You stay here with her,” I said to my friend. “I’ll see what we can do for Fredo.” The bedroom was dark, the shutters closed. I switched on the light and saw Fredo lying on the bed, his head at an impossible angle. Someone had snapped his neck. No doctor could help him. I closed his eyes and went back to Cécile and Tessa, who had been joined by Cook and Signora Orlandi.
I shook my head. “He’s dead,” I said. “I’m more sorry than I can say. This is a terrible loss. We need tea. Lots of it. I’ll go brew it and bring it to the Sala dei Pappagalli.”
Much as I wanted to give them space to grieve, I knew it was crucial to question them about everything that had happened that morning as soon as possible, before they could no longer recall the events with clarity. When I rejoined them, tea tray in hand, Cécile already had the situation under control. Tessa was no longer crying, Signora Orlandi looked furious, and the cook was finishing a detailed narrative of her day.
“And that is all I have to tell,” she said. “I saw nothing unusual, heard nothing unusual, until Tessa screamed. But I was in the kitchen from the moment I arrived at the house.”
“What time was that?” Cécile asked.
“Before five o’clock. The sun was not yet up.”
“And you, Signora Orlandi?” I asked, pouring the tea.
“I am always here by six. The front door was locked, as usual, and I let myself in with my key. I spoke to Fredo briefly—he was in one of the storage rooms on the ground floor—and then went straight to the kitchen, where Cook had a coffee ready for me. It was like any other morning. I drank the coffee and then began an inventory of the supplies in the pantry. When that was done, I checked on Tessa, who had already lit the fires and was cleaning the Sale Madornale on the first floor. The day was perfectly ordinary until Tessa screamed.”
“When did you arrive?” I asked Tessa.
“A little before Signora Orlandi,” she said. “As the others have already told you, everything was the same as usual until I came into Signora du Lac’s room to clean. That’s when I found Fredo.”
“Was the door to the house locked when you got here?” I asked.
“Sì, it always is. I came in, locked it behind me, and got straight to work.”
“I know it seems useless, but I need you to tell me every single thing you did,” I said. “You may have heard or seen something that didn’t seem significant at the time.”
She did as I asked, going into astonishing detail, but nothing stood out as pertinent.
“I can’t help but notice you are all skilled at recounting details,” I said. “That seems an unlikely characteristic of most household staffs.”
“The countess relied on us to do more than run her house and had us trained accordingly,” Signora Orlandi said. “I am not at liberty to discuss the minutiae of our duties. Suffice it to say we are all capable of keeping the palazzo secure.”
Not secure enough, given Fredo’s murder, but I was not about to draw attention to their shortcomings. When Signore Bastieri returned with Colin and Darius, I had him stay with Cécile and the servants while I took the gentlemen to Fredo.
“This is Kat’s room, when she’s here, isn’t it?” Darius asked. “She won’t be best pleased when she hears about this. Wicked stepmother allows murder to occur in her stepdaughter’s bed?”
“I hardly think it’s time to make light of the situation,” I said.
“Of course not. Forgive me,” he said. “It’s an occupational hazard, I’m afraid. I see so much violence I’d go mad if I couldn’t joke about it.”
“We may as well drop all pretense,” I said. “Given that people are still being murdered, it’s obvious your investigation was terminated prematurely. As it’s unlikely Fredo was engaged in some sort of international espionage, we need to consider the possibility that all of these deaths are connected to something going on in this house.”
“The treasure,” Darius said.
“What did Signore Bastieri discover about the coats of arms?” Colin asked.
“They are on buildings laid out in an identical pattern to the Lucretius graffiti I found.”
“Does that tell you where the treasure is?” Darius asked.
“I haven’t had time to consider the possibility,” I said.
“It very well might,” Colin said. “And if so, we need to find it before the murderer does.”
“We could use it to flush him out,” Darius said.
“Don’t think for one second that Cécile and I will tolerate being excluded any longer,” I said. “I’m quite fed up with the parameters of your work.”
“At this point, we’re not in a position to reject any help we can get,” Darius said. “Let’s send for Signore Tazzera. He knows the most about the history of the house, the treasure, and all those sorts of things. He and Cécile can focus on that. Emily, I want you to have Signore Bastieri take you to the buildings with the arms on them. You may notice something about them he didn’t. Colin and I will deal with Fredo’s body and then search his lodgings. He may have learned something about the treasure that drew the attention of the murderer.”
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Just like that, you both abandon your theories about sensitive information and the good of the empire and instead accept that all of these deaths stem from a treasure hunt?” I asked.
“If our theories had been correct, Fredo wouldn’t be dead,” Colin said. “The only thing that matters now is doing whatever is necessary to stop this man before he kills again.”