Leonardo and the Death Machine

Home > Mystery > Leonardo and the Death Machine > Page 11
Leonardo and the Death Machine Page 11

by Robert J. Harris

“I didn’t make a mistake,” Leonardo insisted testily. “It’s all up here, exactly as I saw it.” He tapped himself on the head.

  “In that case I give up,” Sandro declared, throwing his hands in the air. “There’s no way to make sense of this.”

  “You can give up if you like,” said Leonardo, “but I will not.”

  Above their heads the vast dome of the cathedral dominated the city’s skyline. It was regarded by all Florentines as one of the wonders of the world.

  Leonardo pointed up at the dome. “Maestro Andrea told me that when the engineer Filippo Brunelleschi first proposed building this dome, the members of the Signoria said it was impossible, that anything so large would collapse under its own weight.”

  “It’s not the same thing,” said Sandro.

  “Yes, it is,” said Leonardo. “Filippo said that any man who could balance an egg on its end could build the dome.”

  “I know the story,” said Sandro. “When the councillors said it was impossible to make an egg stand on its end, Filippo took an egg and cracked it on the bottom to make it stay upright.”

  “Exactly. Sometimes, all that we need to achieve the impossible is one simple idea.”

  As they rounded the corner into the cathedral square, a parade of men appeared, marching under an array of banners, most of which were decorated with the picture of a leopard.

  “What’s this?” asked Leonardo. “A religious procession?”

  Sandro grabbed him and pulled him into the shadow of an overhanging balcony. “It’s only religious if you share Luca Pitti’s high opinion of himself,” he said. “That leopard is his family crest.”

  He pointed to a white-haired figure on a splendid horse who was riding in the centre of the marching column. He was dressed in robes of silk and gold and he waved airily to the crowd as he passed. Here and there some sporadic cheers broke out and cries of, “The Hill! The Hill! Hail to Luca Pitti!”

  The horseman looked as if he were bored by all the attention, but was forcing himself to acknowledge the applause out of the sheer generosity of his heart.

  Leonardo stared at the pompous figure. “That’s Luca Pitti?”

  “Yes,” said Sandro. “The Saviour of Florence, he would have us believe.”

  “What is he saving us from?”

  Sandro shrugged. “You tell me. I’ll wager that half the people cheering him are doing so because they’ve been paid in advance to put on a show.”

  “He doesn’t look very dangerous,” Leonardo observed.

  “He isn’t, but Neroni is – and he may not be far behind,” said Sandro. “Pull your hat down lower. Someone might see your face.”

  “I’m not as famous as you seem to think,” said Leonardo. “I’ve only been in Florence a few months and hardly anybody knows me.”

  “We only have to run into one of them for us to end up in jail,” said Sandro.

  As soon as the parade had passed, Leonardo noticed a young man climbing up the steps of the Duomo. He tugged on his friend’s sleeve and pointed. “Look, it’s Lorenzo de’ Medici.”

  Sandro stared as the figure disappeared behind the heavy brass doors of the cathedral. “Are you sure?”

  “Even from this distance it’s hard to mistake him,” said Leonardo. “I need to go and talk to him.”

  “Are you insane? What makes you think he won’t turn you over to the Constable?”

  “For one thing, he’s never seen me before,” said Leonardo, “so he won’t recognise me. For another, the Medici may be the only allies I have against Neroni.”

  Sandro rubbed his brow in agitation. “All right. I suppose I’d better come with you.”

  “No. If he does realise who I am, then you’d be incriminated too. You go home and take care of Fresina.”

  “Take care of her?” Sandro shuddered. “You know, I’m not so sure she hasn’t killed anybody.”

  “It’s the entire Botticelli family against one girl,” said Leonardo. “I think you’ll manage.”

  He hurried across the square, trying not to draw attention to himself. He slipped through the doorway, leaving the noise and heat of the square for the vast, cool interior of the Duomo. Leonardo removed his hat as a sign of respect and tucked it under his arm.

  A heavy tang of incense hung in the air. A long floor of polished marble stretched down to the altar where a priest was intoning the Latin words of the mass over a crowd of worshippers. Here and there people stood before the statues of saints, murmuring their private prayers.

  Leonardo looked around and quickly spotted the bulbous nose and jutting jaw of Lorenzo de’ Medici looming out of the shadow of a pillar, like the leering face of a gargoyle. Lorenzo was peering about as if he was expecting to see someone. Leonardo stepped closer and coughed to draw attention to himself.

  “Signor Lorenzo?”

  An old woman running prayer beads through her fingers stopped and glared at the noise. Leonardo immediately lowered his head and his voice.

  Lorenzo turned and took him in at a glance. “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you,” said Leonardo, “but I have some important information you should know.”

  “I’m not buying information today,” said Lorenzo, waving him away.

  “But it is most urgent,” Leonardo insisted.

  In the background he heard the priest utter the final blessing to dismiss the worshippers. People rose from their seats and began filing towards the door.

  “Many things are urgent,” said Lorenzo off-handedly. “I’m afraid they will have to form an orderly line and wait their turn.”

  He was scanning the faces of the congregation as they passed.

  Leonardo held his ground. “Do you know the artist Silvestro?”

  Lorenzo glanced round and quirked a curious eyebrow. “He used to do some work for my family. I remember when I was a boy he designed a mechanical dragon for the annual procession on the feast day of John the Baptist. When it opened its jaws smoke and fire belched out of its mouth. It was the talk of Florence for months.”

  “Well, he’s been working on something else,” said Leonardo, “made from bronze, I suspect. This is a copy I made of the plans I saw in his workshop.” He took out the drawing and began to unfold it.

  “What has this to do with me?” Lorenzo inquired.

  Leonardo was irked at not being taken seriously. “It was your enemy Neroni who commissioned this device,” he said sharply.

  Lorenzo immediately stiffened. “Neroni? Do you know this for sure?”

  “I saw his henchman, Rodrigo, at Silvestro’s workshop. He was impatient for the work to be finished. Can’t you see the danger you’re in?”

  “Why should I be in any danger because of a work of art?” Lorenzo asked.

  “Because of your family,” said Leonardo. “Because your father is the ruler of Florence.”

  “My father is a simple businessman,” Lorenzo asserted flatly.

  “That may be, but Neroni and Pitti are plotting to do away with both of you,” said Leonardo, “and this is part of it.” He shook the drawing under Lorenzo’s nose.

  “Very well then,” Lorenzo said. “Tell me what it is.”

  Leonardo bit his lip and silently cursed his ignorance. “I don’t know yet.”

  Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed sceptically. “You’re not making much of a case.”

  Suddenly, his manner changed and Leonardo saw Lucrezia approaching from the direction of the altar. He realised that this was who Lorenzo had come to meet.

  The girl’s face was aglow like sunlight. “Lorenzo, I was afraid you hadn’t come,” she chided playfully. Then she saw Leonardo and her almond eyes flared in shock. “Leonardo da Vinci!”

  “Da Vinci?” Lorenzo exclaimed. “Is this the boy who is wanted for murder?”

  Lucrezia nodded mutely.

  Leonardo started to back away, but Lorenzo seized him by the front of his smock. His grip was surprisingly strong. “Did you follow me here just to run away?” he deman
ded. There was a steely challenge in his voice.

  “I came to give you a warning.”

  “Yes, and a pretty lot of nonsense it was too. What is this game you’re playing?”

  Leonardo was tongue-tied, too confused to answer Lorenzo’s suspicions. Meeting the young Medici face to face was a very different thing to observing him from hiding. There was an energy about him that was both commanding and intimidating.

  “Where is Fresina?” Lucrezia asked with genuine concern.

  “She is safe,” said Leonardo. “I swear to you, she’s no killer and neither am I.”

  “Oh no?” said Lorenzo. “There is a man dead.”

  “It was Neroni’s henchman, the Spaniard, who did that. And Neroni was there too.”

  Lorenzo’s jaw hardened. “Be careful of your words, Leonardo da Vinci. Do you know what will happen if you repeat that charge openly?”

  They suddenly noticed that one of the priests had stopped in his tracks to stare at them. Lorenzo released Leonardo and waved to the priest, his face lighting up in an easy smile.

  “If you try to escape,” he murmured aside to Leonardo, “I’ll alert the entire cathedral to who you are. Now follow me.”

  He took Lucrezia gently by the elbow and guided her into a nearby alcove that was lit by a row of white candles. Leonardo followed.

  “Lorenzo, it is too fantastic,” said Lucrezia. “Why would anyone want to kill Tomasso?”

  “He was spying for Neroni,” Leonardo explained, “keeping a watch on the two of you and reporting your movements.”

  “How do you know all this?” Lorenzo asked curtly.

  “Fresina heard most of it,” Leonardo replied. “That’s why they tried to kill her too. We harmed no one. We only ran away to save our own lives.”

  “That is for the Constable to decide,” said Lorenzo. “I hope you have a better story for him than the one you’ve told me.”

  “If I’m locked up,” Leonardo protested, “there will be no one to find out the truth about this.” He shook the paper at Lorenzo.

  “What is that?” Lucrezia asked.

  “Some drawing,” Lorenzo replied dismissively. “It would be a comic tale if the matter were not so serious.”

  “I need to go to Silvestro’s workshop,” said Leonardo. “The device may still be there. Or would you rather see Luca Pitti become ruler of Florence?”

  Lucrezia pressed close to Lorenzo as if they were suddenly in the presence of a great unseen danger. “I cannot believe Luca Pitti is involved in this. He is a friend of my father.”

  Lorenzo frowned darkly at Leonardo. “I cannot be party to this insanity. My father has enough troubles already without my adding to them. I will escort you to the Constable and hand you over to him. After that, the court will decide your fate.”

  “You’ve already said no one will believe me,” said Leonardo. “Aren’t you just sentencing me to death?”

  “And what would you have me do? Take your word and try to have Neroni arrested? Or should I set you free and make a criminal of myself?”

  The force of Lorenzo’s challenge left Leonardo floundering for an answer. He returned the drawing to its place under his tunic, still smarting at how easily Lorenzo had dismissed it.

  “A cathedral is an unsuitable place to discuss such things,” said Lorenzo. “Come and we will set the matter before the Constable.”

  He took Lucrezia’s arm and started for the door. Leonardo realised how hard it was to refuse the young Medici once his mind was made up and he followed them dejectedly. He put his hat back on as he emerged into the sunlight, then pulled up sharply to avoid bumping into Lorenzo and Lucrezia who had come to an abrupt halt.

  There, at the bottom of the cathedral steps, was Neroni, waiting for them like a cat in front of a mousehole.

  18 BENEATH THE DOME

  Leonardo hurriedly ducked his head, hiding his features beneath the wide brim of his hat. Neroni rested one hand on the hilt of his sword and waved the other in a flowery salute to Lorenzo.

  Lorenzo remained calm and even smiled pleasantly. “Signor Neroni, I am afraid you are too late for mass.”

  “That is not why I’m here,” said Neroni. “I bring a message for the lovely Lucrezia Donati.”

  With a flourish of his hand, he bowed low in Lucrezia’s direction. Lucrezia tilted her head in acknowledgement, but turned her face away.

  Lorenzo’s wiry shoulders stiffened as at the prick of a dagger. “You’re putting yourself to some trouble to deliver it. Couldn’t it have been left at the Torre Donati?”

  “Ah, but that is the point of the message,” said Neroni. “After the distressing incident at her home the other day and with so much unrest in the city, it seems advisable that the lady should be taken to a place of safety.” His voice was oily with concern. “Therefore, our most prominent citizen, the noble Luca Pitti, has opened his home to her and insists that she accept his protection until her father returns from Siena.”

  He beckoned to a coach that was standing close by with its door open. It was painted with the same leopard symbol Leonardo had seen in Luca Pitti’s procession. Two attendants waited there to help Lucrezia aboard.

  Leonardo glanced over at Lucrezia and saw her flash a brilliant smile. “Luca Pitti is generous, as always,” she said, “but I really am in no danger.” Her voice was light and carefree, as if they were chatting pleasantly at a dinner party.

  “Luca Pitti was most insistent,” said Neroni.

  He snapped his fingers. Four men who had been loitering in the background promptly formed a semi-circle behind him, sweeping back their cloaks to reveal the swords at their sides. Leonardo was painfully aware that he and Lorenzo had no weapons of their own.

  Seemingly undaunted, Lorenzo took a firm pace forward, placing himself between Lucrezia and Neroni. “The lady is under my protection,” he stated forcefully.

  “I’m afraid that gives me little confidence,” said Neroni, advancing up the steps. “Especially in view of the company you keep.”

  Darting past Lorenzo, he whipped the straw hat from Leonardo’s head. “This boy is a wanted murderer,” he said, tossing the hat away.

  The four armed men closed in and Lorenzo eyed them warily.

  “Do not resist, Lorenzo,” said Neroni with a smirk. “You are unarmed after all.”

  “You will not find me so again,” said Lorenzo. “I promise you that.”

  Lucrezia took a deep breath. “There is no need for trouble here, Signor Neroni,” she said. “I am happy to accept the hospitality of the noble Luca Pitti, since his heart is set on doing me this service.”

  Leonardo heard the faintest tremor in her voice, and knew that it was Lorenzo she feared for, not herself. As she started towards the carriage, Lorenzo tried to follow, but Lucrezia turned and placed a hand on his breast to stop him.

  “No, Lorenzo, let’s not risk any trouble here. Luca Pitti will not allow me to come to harm.”

  “The lady is correct,” Neroni agreed. “Surely you do not doubt the integrity of our leading citizen.”

  “It is not his integrity I doubt,” Lorenzo answered in a strained voice. His eyes smouldered helplessly as he watched Lucrezia get into the carriage. As she was driven off, she looked back and touched a finger to her lips.

  Neroni shook his head disapprovingly and gestured towards Leonardo. “This casts you in a very bad light, Lorenzo, consorting with wanted criminals.”

  “That has yet to be proved,” said Lorenzo.

  “There is proof enough,” Neroni snapped, waving his men forward. “I will take this boy to a place where he will pay for his crimes.”

  Leonardo swallowed. “If I go with them, I won’t live to stand trial,” he told Lorenzo.

  Lorenzo fixed Leonardo with a probing stare, like a man trying to read the faded ink of an old manuscript. Abruptly, he turned back to Neroni. “You can leave him in my custody,” he said. “I will vouch for his good behaviour.”

  Neroni raised a hand t
o halt his men. He leaned close to Lorenzo and addressed him in a hushed tone. “I advise you strongly to co-operate with me. Your father is a sick man. If his health should give out or some other misfortune befall him, your position would be very perilous indeed.”

  “I never indulge in speculation,” Lorenzo retorted.

  “This is more than idle speculation,” Neroni continued. “You know that some would press you to step into Piero’s shoes, to guide the business of Florence as he has done. Such a course might put you and those you care about in considerable danger. Would it not be better if you took your inheritance and slipped away into voluntary exile in some quiet seaside town? Who knows? After a while, the lovely Lucrezia could join you there, once all this trouble is past.”

  Leonardo saw the muscles in Lorenzo’s jaw twitch as he assessed his position. Finally, the young Medici fixed Neroni with an iron stare. “You have misjudged me if you think you can turn me into another of your puppets,” he said.

  Neroni sneered and fingered the hilt of his sword. “Think again, if not for your own sake, for that of your sweetheart.”

  “I have thought long enough,” said Lorenzo.

  Without warning he shoved Neroni with both hands and sent him toppling backwards down the steps. His men tumbled over themselves trying to break his fall and the five of them ended up in a tangle of limbs and cloaks at the foot of the steps.

  “Inside!” Lorenzo snapped, darting back into the cathedral.

  Leonardo shot after him. “So you believe me?” he asked.

  “If you’re lying, you’re doing a better job of it than Neroni is,” Lorenzo replied.

  He cast a swift look around. Their sudden entrance had drawn startled looks from the few people inside the Duomo, but no one made a move to stop them.

  Leonardo glanced back through the open door. Neroni and his men had clambered to their feet and were starting up the steps. “Neroni’s coming after us!” he exclaimed.

  “I have nothing left to say to that gentleman,” said Lorenzo.

  Together, they dashed down the centre of the cathedral. A troop of black-clad nuns jumped aside to avoid them as they raced towards the altar.

  “I suppose you have a plan?” Leonardo gasped.

 

‹ Prev