Page 109 of The Medici Return

He’d driven straight from Rome. He should be tired but he was far from it. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, clearing his thinking and readying him for action. He supposed it was the boldness of youth, but he told himself to stay vigilant. His phone had provided navigation to a high-end hotel and resort known as Castiglion del Bosco. He’d heard of the place and knew it existed, but had never before visited. Stamm had directed him to come to a building away from the main hotel labeled Villa Biondi.

Which he’d found.

Three men emerged from the villa’s front door. Stamm, Cardinal Richter, and the American, Malone. Seemed he’d stumbled his way to a party. They introduced themselves and shook hands.

“Stefano was one of my recruits,” Stamm said. “An excellent operative who now heads the Entity’s rapid response team. He is currently disobeying a direct order from his superior, Cardinal Ascolani. Come, let us sit on the terrace. The night is lovely. We need to talk. And we need to hear what Father Giumenta has to say.”

They all rounded to the one side of the villa and a covered terrace that accommodated more than enough comfortable chairs. Alit pool stretched out before them in a pale-green tint. Overhead stars shimmered like splintering candles, small brittle fires, fragile yet eternal.

“The man whose picture you sent is Thomas Dewberry,” Stamm said. “He is a contractor the Entity employs from time to time. Sadly, though, Ascolani has expanded Thomas’s use.”

Stefano said, “There’s a dead jockey in Siena. Thanks to him.”

“Add him to the list,” Malone said. “There’s a dead Swiss Guardsman in Cologne, along with a woman on a train. Then Dewberry tried to kill me and Cardinal Richter.”

“Dewberry was inside the Palazzo Tempi during the Palio, with a high-powered rifle. He shot that jockey,” Stefano said.

“While trying to kill me the first time,” Malone added.

“I suspect Thomas is not happy with all the risk taking,” Stamm said. “He is a careful one by nature.”

“I assume Dewberry is a ghost in any and all official records,” Malone said. “He exists nowhere.”

“He is quite adept at not being seen.” Stamm faced Stefano. “You are not the nuns ringing the bell, just as a test. This is real.”

He knew that.

And was glad to know Stamm thought the same.

“Ascolani has to be stopped,” Richter said. “He cannot be allowed to become pope.”

Stamm nodded. “I agree. But we also have an additional problem.”

He did not like the sound of that.

“As we all know, Eric Casaburi wants to apply pressure on the church through a sixteenth-centuryPignus Christi. To do that he has been compelled to take several steps. First, he violated the tomb of Anna Maria Luisa de’ Medici inside the Medici Chapel. Then he appeared at a church in Panzitta, where Pazzis are buried, and wanted to open the tomb of Raffaello de’ Pazzi. The local bishop passed that request on to Rome.”

“He says he is a Medici,” Richter said.

“He just might be,” Stamm said. “Casaburi had a recognizedDNA expert with him inside the Medici Chapel. He most likely wanted another sample from the Pazzi tomb. I suspect he is trying to establish not only a connection, but that he is alegitimateroyal Medici heir.”

“That would mean Anna Maria and that Pazzi were legally married,” Malone noted.

Stamm nodded. “Precisely. Which does strike at history. Medici and Pazzi were not families that mixed together. Far from it, in fact.”

“Does Casaburi have a copy of the pledge?” Richter asked. “The one we saw expressly said there was another that the Medici retained.”

Stamm pointed a finger. “That is what we have to find out. The copy Ascolani has is surely ashes by now. A shame we do not know its terms.”

Malone smiled. “We do.”

And they listened as Malone recited the pledge, word for word.

“So you really do have an eidetic memory?” Stamm asked. “Quite a gift.”

“It can be.”

“Casaburi, though, needs the actual document to make his case,” Richter said. “Which is good for us.”

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