The Dante Conspiracy

CHAPTER 29



The three men, the two detectives and the director of the Palazzo Pitti, had been so engrossed in their examination of the ancient parchment and its ramifications that they hadn’t heard the stealthy approach of the new arrivals, three men all wearing dark suits, two of them carrying semi-automatic pistols fitted with suppressors. Both weapons were held in their out-stretched hands, and pointed straight at the small group standing beside the wooden chest. The other man was standing a little way behind them, with no weapon evident, though that didn’t mean he was unarmed. He was heavily built, with a mane of silver-grey hair, and exuded an air of authority and dominance.

Perini was the first to recover. He turned very slowly to face the men, his hands at his sides, being careful not to make a threatening move. He had never seen any of the men before, but he immediately guessed who two of them were.

‘We’re police officers,’ he said, ‘and I’d strongly advise you to lower your weapons right now. If you kill or wound one of us, the police will never stop looking for you. Whatever you’re being paid to do this, it isn’t worth it.’

‘You have no idea what I’m paying these men,’ the man standing behind the two with the pistols stated, ‘but I can assure you it’s enough. And I’m what you might call an equal-opportunity employer, so I don’t care who they kill. One bullet, one body, no problem. Policeman or professor, it makes no difference to me.’

‘But you didn’t even use a bullet on Bertorelli, did you?’ Perini asked. ‘Wasn’t he worth it?’

‘There was no need,’ Guido replied. ‘The garrotte was silent and quick, and he didn’t suffer. At least, he didn’t suffer as he died.’

‘And now this is the end-game,’ Marco said. ‘You aren’t the only people who can crack a simple code and, just like you, Stefan here worked out that the manuscript had to be in that chest.’

‘How did you even know the chest existed?’ Massimo asked, a distinct tremor in his voice.

‘That was the easy bit,’ Stefan said. ‘It was listed in the guide book for the Palazzo Pitti, together with a most helpful description. Once I’d worked out that the relic had to have been sent to Giovanni di Bicci de’ Medici, it was fairly obvious where it had to be. Then it was just a matter of working out which of the various objects he acquired early in the fourteenth century was most likely to contain it. That chest was really the only choice.’

Massimo glanced at his watch.

‘But the Palazzo is closed,’ he said. ‘How did you get in?’

The man they’d now identified as Stefan smiled without humour.

‘We walked in through the main door,’ he said, ‘once we were certain all the visitors had left, and then we closed and locked it behind us, because we didn’t want to be disturbed. Unfortunately, two members of your staff decided not to do what we told them, and so we made them take early – and permanent – retirement, but the others who saw sense are locked up in a small storeroom, without their mobile phones. So as I said, nobody will disturb us.’

Perini’s mind was racing as he tried to figure the angles, but at that moment he could see no way out. He and Lombardi already knew that the two men pointing pistols at them had tortured and killed Professor Bertorelli, and also, most probably, Paolo Bardolino, who had just been an innocent bystander. So two or three other deaths, even the deaths of two police officers, probably wouldn’t bother them at all.

‘And now,’ Stefan said, ‘I’d feel much more comfortable if the only people in this room carrying weapons were my associates, so you’ – he pointed at Perini – ‘open your jacket, take your pistol from its holster with your left hand, place it on the floor and then kick it away from you.’

Perini stared at him, but didn’t move.

Stefan sighed and shook his head.

‘I know how you’re trained, and how you’re told never, under any circumstances, to relinquish your personal weapon, so I can offer you a choice. Either you surrender your pistol right now, or you can keep it on your corpse, because I’ll ask Marco to shoot you. Up to you, but I’m not a patient man so make up your mind quickly.’

There was absolutely no choice. Alive but disarmed, Perini could possibly still do something about the situation. Dead, he would be right out of options.

‘OK, OK,’ he said, opened up his jacket, reached awkwardly for his police-issue Beretta with his left hand, keenly aware that the muzzle of the pistol held by the man right in front of him – presumably Marco – was aimed directly at his midriff, and lowered the weapon to the floor. Then he kicked it with his right foot, but across the width of the gallery rather than towards the three men. That way, it would be out of reach of everyone.

Stefan narrowed his eyes at that, but switched his attention to Lombardi.

‘Unless you want to be a hero, I suggest you do the same,’ he said.

‘Do it, Cesare,’ Perini said. ‘We might still be able to walk away from this.’

His face radiating the anger and frustration he was feeling, Lombardi replicated Perini’s action, including the direction he kicked his Beretta.

The moment he did so, there was an almost palpable easing of the tension in the gallery and, at a command from Stefan, his two men lowered their weapons to point at the floor.

‘Now what?’ Perini snapped.

‘Now,’ Stefan said, sounding almost surprised at the question, ‘you finish what you came here to do: find the manuscript of the Divina Commedia, and be quick about it. I haven’t got all night.’

Reluctantly, Perini and his companions turned their attention back to the chest. Massimo lifted the lid and they peered inside it, but without inspiration striking immediately.

‘Talk to me,’ Stefan said. ‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’

‘We found “Gaetani’s bane” in a hidden compartment in the lid of the chest,’ Perini explained, ‘and according to the text of the verses, that was apparently above the manuscript. So it makes sense to us that the relic might be hidden in the sides or the base of the chest, because that would be below the lid, the literal meaning. But we can’t see any sign of a second hidden space.’

‘Why don’t you rip off the lid and break up the rest?’ Stefan suggested. ‘That would do the trick.’

Massimo looked scandalized at the suggestion.

‘We can’t do that. This is a valuable antique.’

‘Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear,’ Stefan said, his voice cold and threatening. ‘All I’m interested in is that manuscript. I don’t care if you have to destroy every other exhibit in this place to find it. Now get a move on.’

Lombardi was crouched beside the chest, and looked up as Stefan finished speaking.

‘I think there’s a difference in height between the inside and the outside,’ he said, ‘and more than just the thickness of the wood.’

Lombardi ran his fingers around the outside of the base, trying to detect a button or catch that would release the cover, assuming his guess was right.

Massimo looked at his watch before stretching out his hand into the chest, the movement taking him closer to Perini. As he did so, he whispered something to the detective, just loud enough for him and Lombardi to hear.

‘What did you just say?’ Stefan demanded.

‘He said,’ Perini replied for him, ‘that he hopes you’ll let us go if we find this relic.’

Stefan smiled.

‘Hope is a wonderful thing,’ he said, ‘and I suppose I might let you go. Or I might not. I haven’t decided yet.’

There was a click from behind Perini, and he swung round to see Lombardi tugging on a panel of wood on one of the narrow sides of the chest. It was about five centimetres deep and ran across the whole width of the side.

‘It was held in by two catches,’ he explained, ‘one at either side. There’s basically a false bottom in the chest. Pass me those gloves,’ he said to Massimo, who immediately handed them to the detective.

It seemed as if everyone in the room held their breath as Lombardi slowly extracted a flat parcel wrapped in cracked leather from the inside of the compartment.

And then Massimo looked again at his watch and nodded to Perini.

‘Five seconds,’ he muttered.

In so much of life, timing is everything.

Seven seconds later, every light in the gallery went out.