“Not unless he looked in the umbrella urn,” I said, glad now that I’d disposed of it before we were taken into the kitchen. “He told us he didn’t need it, that he knew how to open the vault.”
“But he couldn’t know,” said Dante. “That’s so typical of my brother. He was born with an overwhelming sense of superiority. He’s a very intelligent man, but his ego often gets in the way of his common sense. As I told you, he’s been desperate to get into the vault for years. I think his excitement clouded his judgment.”
“Lucky for us. That gives us time…” I trailed off as something crossed my mind. “Dante, do you know where the vault is?”
He jerked his head up to look at me. “No, but why?”
“I was thinking we should go there, with the diagram, to see if we can work out how to access the lock. Then, once we’re sure, you can tell Santini we’ve solved it. The more leverage we have, the better, don’t you think?”
Dante didn’t respond. He stood up, walked to the window and back again. So, he didn’t know where the vault was. That didn’t help. But still, we had the diagram, and Santini didn’t.
“Tell me about the code you mentioned,” Dante said. “What is it?”
Claire looked at me before answering. “Kate worked out that the first initial of the top twenty-two entries on the provenance list represent the cypher text,” she said. “Then she found the keyword.”
Dante turned to me. He didn’t go a very good job of hiding his surprise. “You did all that?”
I shrugged. “I had time on the train. And my brother helped me.”
This time his surprise was very evident. “Your brother?”
“Yes. He’s a mathematician, a professor at Oxford.”
Dante nodded. “So what does the code tell you?”
I realized that my body was all tensed up, squeezed tight as though I was wearing one size too small Spandex. I remembered how I’d felt in the warehouse, that sinking feeling of not being able to trust anyone. It was like being locked in a cold, dark room deprived of contact with the outside world.
“We didn’t finish it,” I said.
Claire’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.
“That’s too bad,” Dante said. “However, maybe it doesn’t matter. We have the diagram and that is crucial.”
“I’m confused,” Claire said. “As far as I can see there are no markings on it. Nothing that would show the location of the lock, for example.”
“Apparently, it’s more complicated than that,” Dante said.
Claire massaged her temples with her fingers. Dante looked up at her with an expression of concern. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Do you need to lie down for a while?”
“No, no. I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t fine. The aura was speeding up over her head. Just then, Patrizia came into the room with a tray. “The cook made pasta,” she said. “Shall I put it in the dining room?”
“We’ll eat here,” Dante said, pointing to a small but elegant card table with four chairs grouped around it. “We don’t have much time to waste.”
Patrizia nodded and set out bowls, glasses, forks and napkins on the inlaid tabletop. The aromas of tomato and basil suddenly filled the room.
“Please.” Dante waved us over to the table. As I passed Patrizia, I remembered my morning phone calls. “Did Detective Lake call back?” I asked. “I gave him the phone number here.”
“Yes, he did.” She smiled widely. “He said not to worry and that you should ring him when you’re ready to meet with him. He sounded quite charming.”
“Oh, well, thank you,” I said, thinking that she must have brought out a nice side of Lake that I hadn’t been privy to.
Dante must have overheard. “Did you get the new phones?” he asked Patrizia. “Let’s make sure those are working.”
“Yes. It just takes a while to get the accounts set up, as you know.”
“Thank you, Dante,” I said, taking a seat and shaking out a crisp white serviette. “It will be nice to feel connected again.”
Dante poured us each a small glass of wine. “It’s a Brunello di Montalcino,” he said, smiling at Claire. “One of your favorites.”
The pasta was delicious, and I concentrated on eating while Dante talked about the vault.
“I don’t know all of it, but I’ll share what I know,” he said. “This is information passed down through generations, so it’s incomplete, but it may help to answer your questions about why a code and a diagram are needed to open it.”
I pushed my empty plate away, wondering if it would be rude to ask for more.
“As you know, Buontalenti designed the vault,” Dante said. “Apparently, he was extremely ingenious. He had the vault excavated from solid rock on three sides, with one constructed wall at the front.” He pointed at the diagram. “The wall is built of roughly two hundred blocks of irregular sizes, about twenty of them across and sixteen up. There is an access door, but it is faced with the same stone materials as the rest of the wall. The door will swing open when the key is placed in the lock.”
“Okay,” Claire said slowly. “That seems clear enough.”
I leaned forward. “So this diagram represents that stone wall?”
“Yes, and if you look very closely, you’ll see a tiny mark in the center of some of the blocks. Just a minute.” He stood up and went to one of the glass display cases where he picked up a magnifying glass and gave it to me. The lens was mounted in a bronze frame, with a lion’s head engraved on the handle.
“This belonged to Galileo,” he said.
My hand trembled as I held the heavy glass; to think that Galileo’s fingers had touched it. When I looked where Dante pointed, I could see a perfectly formed black dot in the middle of the block. Moving the glass around, I saw another and then another. They seemed to be placed at random. I counted at least ten dots before my eyes blurred and I had to look up and refocus.
“Each mark is a possible location of the lock,” Dante said. “Apparently, the key will fit into any one of these holes.”
“So, Santini would have just tried every hole until he found the right one,” said Claire.
Dante shook his head. “Buontalenti thought of that too. The vault was designed with a booby trap. Unless the key goes in the correct place, the vault will fill with water from an underground spring. The contents would be destroyed.”
“That’s crazy,” I said.
“Apparently, the Custodians would rather lose their treasure than have it fall into the wrong hands.”
“Why?” Claire asked. “Surely it’s far better that the art survived, even if someone else took possession of it?”
“Not if the authorities found it. Then it would be evidence of generations of criminal dealings. Although they began with altruistic goals, it only took a few years for the Custodians to resort to illegitimate methods of acquiring artworks.” Dante shrugged. “I agree that it’s mad, but no one in history has ever dared to test the mechanism. It might not even work after all this time, and the spring may well have dried up, but Santini’s not going to take that risk.”
I gave the magnifying glass back to Dante. “Well, the map makes more sense now. I can see that Santini would need it,” I said. “So the sooner we talk to him, the better. When will we hear from him?”
“Soon, I hope,” Dante replied. “Don’t worry. He’s going to call. He needs us.”
He stood up. “Let’s go make ourselves comfortable.” He led us back to the sofas. Claire sat and pulled her knees up to her chin. Tears welled in her eyes. “What if it’s too late for Ethan?” she asked. “I know you’re doing everything you can, but it’s been hours now since Santini gave Aldo the order to kill us. What if he told one of his other men to get rid of Ethan at the same time?”
Her voice broke as she covered her face with her hands. Dante stroked her knee.
“Listen,” he said. “Don’t forget that Aldo wasn’t driving you somewhere to kill y
ou. He was bringing you back to Florence to meet with Santini again.”
“But Santini did that because he believes we can help him. Ethan doesn’t know anything. He can’t be useful to Santini any more.”
“It’s going to be all right, I promise.” Dante’s voice was gentle and soothing. “I know how my brother thinks. Remember that he planned to have his men dispose of you when he was more than two hundred kilometers away in Rome. When it comes to his own skin, he’s very careful. Once he realized he couldn’t open the vault, he’d have made the calls necessary to cancel his earlier orders. No one is going to be killed until he is far away in the company of a good alibi.”
He put his hand on her cheek. “I promise, cara, we will find Ethan.”
Claire wiped away her tears and managed a smile.
“I’d like to go home to collect some things,” she said. “Clean clothes. Could Rocco take us there while you’re waiting to hear from Santini?”
“Are you sure, Claire?” I asked. “Isn’t it better to stay here, to be ready the minute Santini contacts us? We don’t want to be on the other side of the city when that call comes in.”
Dante nodded. “I agree with Kate. He might phone at any time. But if you need clean clothes, I’m sure Patrizia could find some for you. She…”
Several bars of Puccini’s Madame Butterfly interrupted him. He took his phone from his pocket and answered. “Vanucci.”
Listening, he walked to the other end of the room, where he stood with his back to us, not uttering a word. There was something about his posture that made me think this call was about us, but it didn’t look like good news.
Dante finished listening and turned back towards us. “I need to go out, but I won’t be long.”
“Was that Santini?” Claire asked?
“No. But don’t worry. I have my mobile with me and I’ll get in touch with Rocco if I hear from my brother.”
When the door closed behind him, I moved to the window, curious to see if he was leaving the building. A steady rain soaked the streets below. The dome appeared as a blacker shape against the dark sky. I turned back to see Claire curled up in one corner of the sofa, chewing on a fingernail. In spite of Dante’s assurances, she had a hunted look about her.
“It’ll be all right, Claire,” I said. “We’ll find Ethan.”
She raised her eyes to meet mine. “Do your magic powers extend to prophecy as well?”
Stung, I leaned against the windowsill, keeping a distance between us.
“It’s weird, isn’t it,” I said after a while. “The relationship between the brothers?”
Claire looked up at me. “What?”
“Perhaps Santini bullied Dante when they were kids,” I said. “Although if I hated someone as much as Dante seems to hate his brother, I’d think I’d just keep my distance. They both seem a bit obsessed with each other.”
A clock on the mantelpiece chimed, a deep, mellifluous peal that reminded me of a church bell. It was only three in the afternoon. “I’m going to find Patrizia,” I said. “To see if she got our new phones.”
As if she’d been listening at the door, Patrizia entered at that moment, holding two white boxes with a familiar logo on them. “I have your smartphones,” she said. “I’m still waiting for them to be connected, but I thought you could at least get started on setting them up.” She handed us one each and I went back to the sofa to take mine out of its box. Claire put hers to one side. “You don’t want to open yours?” I asked.
“Not really. It won’t bring Ethan back any faster.”
“That’s true. But it’ll be wonderful to be in touch with the outside world again,” I said. “I want to call Leo to let him know I’m all right.”
“Lucky you, being able to call your brother,” Claire said.
I put the phone down. “Listen, Claire. I understand that you’re upset, and that you’re scared for Ethan. I am, too. But taking it out on me isn’t going to solve anything.”
After a long silence, Claire spoke. “How would you like it if I accused Josh of doing something bad?” Her face was white. “You have no right to criticize Dante. I think it might be time for you to go home. This is a family matter really, and Dante can provide far more help than you can.”
Leaning back against the cushions, I crossed my arms across my stomach, which was churning and making me feel nauseous. I could go. If I went straight to Florence airport, I could get on any flight that had a connection to London. Even though Josh wouldn’t be back from China yet, I’d be at home and safe in my own flat, sleeping in my comfortable bed. I’d be back at work in time for that meeting with the Randall Group. Alan would never even know I’d been missing for two days.
But Claire’s aura was spinning, taunting me. How could I leave, knowing that she was still in great danger? I couldn’t. Hunching down further into the sofa, I gripped my stomach more tightly.
“You still have an aura, Claire, which means the threat to you isn’t over yet. Dante doesn’t realize that you’re in danger as much as Ethan is. Perhaps we should tell him?”
“Tell him you can see moving air that predicts death? I don’t think so, Kate.”
I didn’t move or say anything, uncertain what had provoked her anger. My comments in the warehouse hadn’t been that harsh, surely? A couple of deep breaths did nothing to dispel the tight knot in my chest. She was right that she and Dante could manage things without me. Although, I thought, I’d done far more work on the cypher than she had, and I’d been the one to suggest visiting Gardi. Assessing my contribution didn’t make me feel any better, however, and I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. I’d make my peace with Claire and stick with her through to the end, whatever that would be. So, I summoned a smile, feeling my mouth twist unnaturally against the way I really felt.
“I’m sorry if I was rude to Dante,” I said. “I didn’t mean it to be personal. I don’t know anything about the workings of the art world, so I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I picked at the fringe of a cushion, running my fingers over the silky threads as we sat in silence. The phone rang. I looked at it for a few seconds, wondering if someone would pick it up, but no one did, and it continued to ring. I got to my feet and picked up the receiver, holding it away from my ear as though it might bite. “Hello?” I said.
“Kate? It’s Falcone. Someone left a message telling me to ring you on this number.”
I contemplated putting the phone down. I didn’t want to talk to him.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“I think you know where we are,” I said. “And if you don’t, it’s best we keep it that way.”
“Who took you away in the car? Do you know who abducted you?”
“Really? Are we going to pretend you don’t know exactly what happened? I don’t think so. And please tell Federico he’s got a bright future in the theater. His little act was quite convincing.”
The signal was bad and kept cutting out. “Kate, I have no idea what you’re talking about. We need to meet. I have more information.”
I hesitated. I wanted to know whatever Falcone knew, but I didn’t trust him. Claire came to stand next to me. “Put the phone down,” she said. “We have nothing to say to him.” She pressed the button on the phone cradle and disconnected the call.
“I never trusted him,” she said, going back to the sofa. “And you shouldn’t have either.”
We sat in silence until Dante came back in. When he saw Claire curled up in the corner of the sofa, he sat down next to her and put his arms around her. “What’s wrong, cara?”
Claire summoned a wan smile. “It’s hard to sit around here doing nothing while I’m so worried about Ethan. Did you find out where Santini is? Do you know where he’s holding Ethan?”
“That’s what I’ve been working on,” Dante said. “I heard from him. He is back at his villa outside Arezzo, undoubtedly weighing his options. I told him we have the diagram. So now we can make a move.”
I jump
ed to my feet. “Finally. What about Ethan? Do you think he’s at Santini’s place too? Why don’t we just call the police and have them raid the villa?”
“Let’s wait for an hour or two before calling the police,” Dante said. “If Ethan is there, Santini might kill him if the police turn up. If Ethan’s not there and the police arrest Santini, we may never find out where he’s holding him. This is what we’re going to do. I’ve let him know that you’re with me. I’ve also let him know that we have the diagram. So we are going to set a trap for him.”
“You mean we’re bait?” I asked, incredulous. This was crazy.
He stood up. “Yes, but I will ensure that you are not caught. It is we who will land our fish.”
More like a bloody great big shark, I thought.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I said. “With all due respect, Santini seems to have as much muscle working for him as you do. We don’t want to get caught in a firefight. And I don’t want to go back to that house.”
Dante smiled and shook his head. “We’re not going to Arezzo. We will move to a more secure location for the handover. There, we will trade. Ethan in return for the diagram.”
He held out a hand to help Claire to her feet. “This will all be over very soon,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I put my sleek new iPhone in my pocket. So far, there was no connection. In England, it might have been turned on almost immediately, but I knew it would take longer in Italy. Rocco accompanied us downstairs and once again into the Mercedes that purred at the curb outside the front door. The rain was torrential now, sending tourists in plastic ponchos to take shelter in doorways and under awnings that were distended with water. It was only late afternoon but the beams of the car’s headlights were swallowed up by the darkness.
Claire and I sat in the back, an empty expanse of leather seat between us. I reached my hand out to touch hers. “Can we be friends again?” I whispered. “I’m really sorry. And I’ll apologize to Dante later too, I promise. My friends often tell me I’m too opinionated.”
The Florentine Cypher: Kate Benedict Paranormal Mystery #3 (The Kate Benedict Series) Page 22