“She became with child by Raffaello de’ Pazzi,” his grandmother said. “A total surprise since her only other pregnancy miscarried. Having a child was not something she expected. She was in her fifties. To have a child at that age then, or now, was dangerous. Even worse, Raffaello de’ Pazzi died in a carriage accident before the child was born. Some said it was no accident, though. Anna Maria believed he was murdered.”
That information surprised him. “She wrote that down?”
She nodded. “All of her thoughts and fears.”
Anna Maria died in 1743. History made no mention of a child born to her in the years before her death. Just the opposite, in fact. Her last will and testament was remarkable. She’d inherited all that the Medici owned, including art, land, buildings, cash, contracts, jewelry, and other valuables. Priceless things. She cemented her place in history with thePatto di Famiglia, the Family Pact, which ensured that everything the Medici acquired over nearly three centuries of political ascendancy stayed in Tuscany, provided that nothing was ever removed from Florence. And nothing everwas. All the art, architecture, and grandeur that was modern Florence owed its existence to her.
“You took me to where Gregorio Cappello is buried,” he said. “You told me that he was a royal Medici. I am a royal Medici. It is not a story anymore. It is fact. But the father, Nonna. Raffaello de’ Pazzi. He is now the key. I need to be connected to him, and I need to know if he and Anna Maria legally married?”
“Of course they married. She would not have had it any other way.”
“She wrote that down too?”
His grandmother nodded.
“So why not leave her child, a legitimate Medici, everything? Why give it all to Florence? Why allow the royal line to become extinct?”
“She had her reasons. Good ones too.”
Another non-answer. But intriguing. For another discussion. Right now he wanted to know, “Where is the Pazzi buried?”
“I have no idea.”
Not good.
He should be able to find that out now that he had a name and time frame. But this woman was the only one who knew where to find the other piece of the puzzle.
“Where are Anna Maria’s writings?”
CHAPTER 41
STEFANO REMAINED PERPLEXED WITH BOTHCARDINALASCOLANI’Spresence here in Siena and his visit to the Palazzo Tempi. He’d gone back to La Soldano and spoken with Daniele, who informed him that an American and Cardinal Richter had spent most of the day with Camilla Baines at her horse farm.
“During the Palio we watch her day and night,” Daniele said. “She is the Golden Oakers’capitano. A slippery one, too. Always up to something. The Porcupines and the Golden Oaks do not care for each other. Even worse, Golden Oak has a bad horse who cannot win. So they were paying their jockey to stop us from winning. We made a side deal with that jockey and paid him more to leave us alone.”
“The way of the Palio, right?”
“All part of the spectacle. That American I mentioned rode one of their horses bareback earlier at her track. She would not have done that, without a reason.”
“Which is?”
“We think she may have found out what we’ve done and is preparing to make a change in jockey.”
“With the American on their horse?”
“We are not sure. But it is a possibility.”
“And what worries you is that he cannot be bought.”
“Exactly.”
He was still at the café when a text came from Ascolani ordering him to head back to the cathedral, which remained open late today because of all the festivities related to tomorrow’s race.
So he hustled that way.
He entered through a side door, paying the admission fee once again, and found Ascolani at the far end of the nave near the octagonal pulpit.
A thirteenth-century marvel.