Read Online Midnight Angels by Lorenzo Carcaterra - Free Book Online Page B

the only master working within the Medici inner circle. Raphael was part of that universe, as was Leonardo and a handful of others. Why Michelangelo? Why not one of the others?”
    “His relationship with Lorenzo de’ Medici for one,” Kate said. “There was a bond that existed between them and carried through to the other members of the family for decades. Think about it, Marco. Through all the feuds they had with him, even the times they had him jailed or sought him out for condemnation, they always returned to Michelangelo and his work. Because they knew, they believed what the world back then believed—that it was work that would last and only grow in value. Work that would be worth hiding, regardless of the price or the risk.”
    “And what makes you so convinced that work is in here?” he asked.
    “If you stop and just think about it for a minute or two, it does start to make some sense.”
    “Florence is a city of secrets, Kate. And there are many places to keep those secrets.”
    Kate and Marco, along with the elderly guard, approached one of the corridor exits, a short distance from Buontalenti’s Grotto. “Let’s go out this way,” Marco said, nodding his thanks to the guard.
    “Why here?”
    “Because Buontalenti is one of my heroes,” Marco said. “He is to me what the great Michelangelo is to you.”
    “I didn’t know you admired the grotto so much,” Kate said.
    “I don’t,” he said. “I mean, it’s an amazing piece of work, but it doesn’t even venture close to what was his greatest contribution. He left us all a gift that no one can ever forget. One that even a conspiracy devotee like yourself can enjoy.”
    “What?” she asked, stepping out of the corridor and into the sharp Florentine light.
    “Buontalenti invented gelato,” Marco said, with a schoolboy grin spread across his face. “Now you tell me, what greater gift is there?”

CHAPTER
9
    E DWARDS SAT IN A SOFT LEATHER CHAIR, HIS FINGERS WRAPPED around a cup of coffee, flames from the crackling fire to his right offering the only light and warmth to the sparsely furnished room. He gazed up at the well-dressed man standing with his back to the fire, hands thrust inside the pockets of what looked to be a hand-tailored suit.
    “I wouldn’t be too concerned,” he told the man. “She just needs some time. If we allow her that, then we won’t need to fear any disappointments.”
    The man—tall, wiry, thick strands of white hair resting against the tip of a starched white collar, cobalt blue eyes shielded by the smoke—turned his head slightly and gazed at Edwards. He was in his midsixties but looked at least a decade younger, an athletic body beneath an academic’s face.
    “They will know where she is,” he said, his voice crisp, “if they don’t already. And they’ll know what she has gone there to find, before she even figures it out.”
    “That’s always been the danger,” Edwards said, resting the coffee mug on a three-legged wooden side table. “That’s always been the fear.”
    “I still think it would have been the wiser course to tell her all she needed to know prior to her trip,” the man said. “I said so at the time.”
    “That’s because you don’t know her as I do,” Edwards said. “She’s prepared for whatever dangers come her way. And let’s not forget, we didn’t put her out there alone. We have eyes on her, as many as she’ll need.”
    “I’ve never doubted her abilities,” the man said. “But I know those ofher enemies as well. I don’t need to give you any lessons as to the lengths the Immortals will go.”
    “I’m aware of the risks,” Edwards said. “As will she be when the time is right. But for now, all our worries might be for naught. She may not find anything and may simply spend her time in Florence furthering her studies.”
    “Do you really believe that will be the case?” the man asked.
    “No,” Edwards said after a slight hesitation. “Her mother and