The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels

by Travis Luedke

  The man dropped the dagger to the floor. He looked through Cesare when Dracula jumped down. Blood spilled from his lower lip and down onto his chin. It leaked through fingers that clutched at his throat. He slumped forward and whacked his forehead against the table before his body hit the floor. The tavern fell deathly silent. Every pair of eyes looked over to Borgia’s table.

  The owner walked up to it, a group of dangerous-looking men accompanying him. “I do not allow things of this sort in here.”

  Dracula gave him an icy stare, ready to kill them all if the need arose. Cesare grinned at him, and threw a pouch of gold coins onto the table. “For your trouble,” he said.

  The owner picked it up and tested its weight. “Take the body out of here.”

  Cesare nodded. His other men dragged their dead friend outside and left his body in the gutter.

  Dracula glared at him. “Need I kill every one of your men to prove my worth?”

  “No,” he said. “I have seen enough.”

  Dracula sat down opposite him again.

  “That was an incredible display of speed and agility.”

  “I told you there were none better than I.”

  “I believe it.”

  “Who is the target?”

  Cesare fell silent when his guest came to the point, and looked him straight in the eye. Dracula knew whom Cesare had in mind, but he needed him to say it. Cesare looked around and over his shoulder to make sure no one could hear. When his men returned inside, he dismissed them for a moment. “Giovanni Borgia.”

  “The second most important man in Rome.”

  “The second?”

  “Yes, after his father, the pope.”

  “Oh,” Cesare said, not too impressed that the stranger considered him less important than his brother.

  “Is he not?”

  Cesare shrugged. “I believe so. So, can you do it?”

  “I can do it. Can you afford it?”

  “I told you I was wealthy.”

  “That is not what I asked you.”

  “How much should it take?”

  “One hundred thousand ducats.”

  Dracula expected a reaction. Cesare gave him none. “That is your price?”

  “Yes, that is my price.”

  Cesare thought about it.

  “It should open every door for you. With your brother gone, your father shall turn to you as the object of his affection. It would be the making of you, though you know this. You shall recover the sum in a matter of months.”

  “I accept the price,” he said.

  “When do you want the deed done?”

  “I shall send word.”

  Dracula got up to leave. “Where might I find you?”

  “If you are as good as you say, then you shall find me.”

  They had last seen each other three days previously. Cesare set the date for tonight. In the time since their first meeting, Dracula had befriended Giovanni. He knew him to be fond of a girl in the Jewish Quarter. That was the bait he would use to lure him away.

  * * *

  “YOU are very quiet, Cesare,” his mother commented.

  He looked up at her. “Forgive me, Mama, I am tired. Too much wine, perhaps.”

  His sister, Lucrezia, grinned at him from across the table. “Perhaps Cesare is ready for his bed. But if I know my brother, there is likely someone waiting there for him, keeping the bed warm.”

  “Stop that talk at my table,” her mother admonished.

  “Oh, Mama,” Giovanni said, laughing. “It is most likely the truth.”

  Cesare did not share in the joke. “It is late, Mama. Perhaps I should be on my way back to the city.”

  “I do not want you to go without your brother. Wait till he is ready to join you.”

  “Are you ready, Brother?” he asked. “We have a long journey ahead.”

  Giovanni wiped his mouth with a napkin. “You are right, Brother. We should take our leave.”

  Vannozza rose to see them off. She wrapped her arms around her eldest and kissed him. “Good night, dear Giovanni. Have a safe trip to Napoli.”

  Even the way she looked at his brother made Cesare jealous. Soon, Brother, he thought. I shall see you are but a distant memory.

  “Good night, my son,” Vannozza said, when she hugged Cesare.

  The brothers left with their attendants. Giovanni’s masked companion awaited them outside on his horse. The great white stallion snorted and jostled about. Dracula pulled hard on the reins, drawing the halter tight around the beast’s face.

  “Are you having trouble controlling your horse, my friend?” Giovanni commented in jest.

  Cesare’s heart pounded when he saw Dracula there. The moment was close that Giovanni would be a thorn in his side no longer.

  They rode into the heart of the city to the Ponte Quarter. Giovanni pulled up close to Ascanio Sforza’s palace.

  “Why have you stopped?” Cesare asked him.

  “I am not ready to go to the Vatican yet. You go on ahead with the servants.”

  “As you wish,” his brother said. “To where is it you are headed?”

  Giovanni grinned. “To the Jewish Quarter.”

  “Pray tell me what draws you there?”

  The grin grew broader across his face. “Let us say, Brother, I am going there to amuse myself.”

  “You have found a nice Jewish girl? I am sure our father would approve.”

  Giovanni did not rise to the bait. “I want everyone to return with my brother to the Vatican. Antonio, you remain with me. So long, Brother.”

  He whipped his horse and rode off. Antonio and Dracula flanked him on either side. They rode at pace until out of sight of the others, and then slowed to a canter.

  “How did you arrange this?” he asked his masked friend.

  “It was not difficult. She is willing.”

  “But her like rarely consort with mine.”

  “I have no doubt that would be due to the bias of your like. Then, who can govern affairs of the heart?”

  Giovanni smiled at the remark. “Did any coin change hands?”

  “I assured her you would take care of her, should it last.”

  “Friends such as you are hard to find. It is a great service you have provided me.”

  They rode quietly into the Jewish Quarter. Although a man of great importance, Giovanni knew the people here would not appreciate his presence.

  Ilona waited with the girl. In another part of the house, her parents lay dead. The vampires fed on them after tying the girl to her bed. Varkal lurked somewhere on the roof.

  He waited there, watching and listening. Birds that roosted on the nearby rooftops, took to the skies. The three riders came into view. He watched as they rode slowly along the street below. Dracula’s companions did not hear him swoop down. In a flash, Antonio was gone.

  Giovanni did not notice. He dismounted and followed Dracula into the house. Excitement filled him inside. The girl he was meeting was a sight to behold. He cared nothing that a romance with her would anger his father.

  Varkal flew high above the ground. He held his victim so tight that he could not breathe. When Antonio regained his senses, he tried to cry out. Varkal did not allow him to. He bit into the soldier’s neck and began to drink.

  He did not have much time. His father wanted him to join with them inside. He drank for a few moments and dumped Antonio in the Piazza della Giudecca.

  Giovanni stepped inside, where he found the house dark and quiet. In the other room, the girl fought against her bonds. They held firm. The gag in her mouth was sufficient to prevent her raising the alarm.

  “Where is she?” he asked, feeling a little uneasy.

  “In the other room. You do not want to wake her parents, so remain quiet.”

  “I should have met with her away from here.”

  “No, this is her wish. For your first liaison, she wanted it to be in a safe place. I shall take you to her, and then leave you both alone.”
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  He walked into the room where they had the girl tied. Giovanni followed him in. The room was darker than the one he had just walked through and he strained his eyes to see. From nearby, the girl tried to cry out beneath her gag.

  He looked down and saw her. “What is this?”

  Ilona stepped up behind him. He heard her in the last moment, but could not react in time as she ran a blade across his throat. Dracula threw a heavy sack over his head before he could bleed all over the floor.

  The young cardinal fell down. He kicked for only a moment, in a reflex action. Ilona had sliced clean through his windpipe.

  Dracula carried him outside and laid him across the crupper of his horse. Ilona killed the girl with equal precision, giving her a quick death. She joined her husband outside just as Varkal returned.

  “Come,” he said. “Let us finish this.”

  He rode slowly through the streets. Ilona and Varkal supported the dead body on either side. He stopped when he arrived near the Hospital of San Girolamo. The vampires waited there until they received a signal from Cesare’s men.

  The signal came. He rode out to the riverbank between the Bridge of Sant’ Angelo and the Church of Santa Maria Nuova.

  The men dragged the body down off the back of the white stallion. They removed the sack to check the identity of the body. “It is Cardinal Borgia.”

  One of the others turned to Dracula. “I shall take you to where your payment awaits you.”

  Two of the men threw the body into the Tiber.

  “Is it sinking?” one of them asked.

  They noticed a black object floating on the water a fair distance out.

  “I do not know,” another answered. “But I see something afloat.”

  They hurled stones at the object for a few minutes. Finally, it disappeared below the surface. The men dispersed quickly. It was not long until dawn, and they did not want anyone to see them there.

  The vampires could feel the dawn approaching also. They followed Cesare’s man to the basement of an old run-down house. There, they saw several chests full of gold.

  Cesare stepped out onto a balcony at the Appartamento di Borgia. He closed his eyes and sucked in the fresh morning air. Opening them again, he whispered to the gentle breeze, “So long, Brother.”

  Chapter 22

  ROME PROVINCE. THE APARTMENT OF GIOVANNI BORGIA. THE APPARTAMENTO DI BORGIA IN THE VATICAN ENCLAVE IN ROME.

  JUNE 15, 1497.

  Giovanni’s servants left it until late morning to wake him. His secretary entered his rooms when he did not respond. He found the bed of his master untouched.

  “The cardinal is not here?” he asked a servant.

  “I do not know, Monsignor. I have not seen him.”

  The monsignor made further enquiries. No one else in his employ had seen Giovanni that morning either. The young cardinal was due to leave for Naples with Cesare in the afternoon. Worried, the monsignor decided to go straight to the pope.

  He bowed and kissed the pope’s ring when he entered his private quarters. Cesare was also there. “Thank you for receiving me, Holy Father.”

  “You look worried, Monsignor. What ails you?”

  “It is the cardinal, your son.”

  “Is there something the matter with him?”

  Cesare pricked his ears for the news he longed to hear.

  “He is not here, Holy Father. He did not sleep in his bed this night past. I fear something is wrong.”

  The pope stifled a laugh. Cesare had already told him of Giovanni’s leave of absence during the night. “I imagine he has found a young lady.”

  “But he is due to leave for Napoli in the coming hours.”

  “I am sure he shall be along when he is good and ready. If you can excuse us, Monsignor, we have matters to discuss.”

  He bowed and left. The explanation offered did not satisfy him. He decided to send some people out to ask around.

  Earlier that morning, some fishermen found Antonio in the Piazza della Giudecca on their way home. He had not moved from the spot where Varkal left him. They saw at once he was very ill and took him home with them.

  “Are you well?” one of them asked.

  “What is your name?” enquired the other.

  Antonio could not answer. A layer of sweat covered his body. It made him look as though they had just fished him from the river. His skin was deathly white, and it contrasted with the darkness of his eye sockets. They saw, too, a wound on his neck. It had turned black and was badly infected. His fingers showed signs of the same.

  “You should not have brought him here,” the wife of one of the men argued.

  “We are good Christian people,” her husband responded. “I could not leave him there to die.”

  “Get him a blanket,” the other man said. “He needs warming.”

  “What if he has the plague?” the woman continued. “Have you thought of that? You shall kill us all with your foolish notions.”

  “There is no plague in Rome,” he scolded. “Go and get the poor man a blanket. Can you not see how he is shivering?”

  “Many people come into Rome,” she said. “Any one of them could bring it with them.”

  The men tried to get Antonio to drink some water. He could not. Almost at once, he threw up all over the floor by his feet.

  It did not please the woman. “Oh, look!” she said. “If that is not plague, I do not know what is. Take him outside.”

  “If we do that, he shall die.”

  “If you do not, we shall all die. I want him gone from my house!”

  “Let us take him to the Hospital of San Girolamo. They might care for him there.”

  The men each took an arm around their shoulders and escorted him back towards the river. He groaned for a short time longer, and then died.

  The people the monsignor sent out, found Giovanni’s horse. It stood alone in the streets near to the Cardinal of Parma’s palace. There was no sign of its owner. This was the proof he needed that something was amiss. News also reached him that Antonio was dead.

  He heard another story, from an unverified source, that Antonio had opened his eyes after his passing. A cry escaped his lips before he stood up and staggered across the street, his body erupting in a ball of flame. The man sent to check on this came back to report he had seen a large scorch mark on the cobbles and a pile of ash. As many as a half a dozen people claimed to have seen it.

  The monsignor reported the news at once to the pope. He did not speak of the stories circulating about Antonio, just that he was dead. Vannozza heard also that her son was missing. She headed straight to the Vatican.

  “Has anyone seen him?” Alexander shouted.

  Every face he looked at offered him a blank stare.

  “Then question everyone. Every priest, soldier, and servant. I want him found!”

  “No one has seen him, Holy Father. We have talked to everyone.”

  Cesare feigned worry. “Has anyone looked for him outside the Vatican?”

  “Yes, Eminence. We have looked everywhere your brother liked to frequent. There is no sign of him.”

  “It is not good enough!”

  The pope was beside himself. “Send every available man out into the city. I want inquiries made in every quarter. Wherever they might find out something, I want them to go.”

  By early evening, someone came forward. They rushed the man to the Vatican for an audience with the pope, informing Alexander of it before he arrived.

  “Who is this man?” he asked.

  “He is a boatman from the Schiavoni, Holy Father.”

  “He is Venetian?” Cesare asked.

  “Yes.” The monsignor nodded, as if he needed to answer that.

  Vannozza stood up. She looked as though she had aged ten years. “Does this man have a name?”

  “Yes, signora. The man is named Giorgio.”

  He arrived soon after. The Swiss Guard brought him through to the pope’s private living quarters. A fair group awa
ited his arrival, and it made him nervous. He removed his cap when he saw the pope.

  Alexander walked up to him. He did not care for the boatman to bow. “Straighten up, man,” he said. “We heard that you saw something late this night past?”

  “Yes, Holy Father. I saw something, yes.”

  “Then hurry up, man. Tell us!”

  Giorgio lowered his head a touch. “It was this night past, soon before the dawn.”

  “What happened? What did you see?”

  “I saw two men throw a body into the water.”

  Vannozza put her hand to her mouth, and gasped.

  “You never thought to report this?”

  “Holy Father, I have seen many bodies tossed into the river. No one has ever asked after them before this day.”

  “Where on the river was this?” Cesare asked him.

  “Between the Bridge of Sant’ Angelo and the Church of Santa Maria Nuova.”

  “And where were you?”

  “I was on my boat on the river.”

  “And you were not seen?”

  “No, Eminence. The river is dark, and my boat is laden with logs. I was on board to be sure my cargo was not robbed.”

  The pope resumed the questioning. “What more did you see?”

  “Well…”

  “What did you see in the first place?”

  Giorgio cast his mind back. “I saw two men come out of one of the streets.”

  “Which street was this?”

  “The one that runs past the Hospital of San Girolamo.”

  “What did they look like? Were they tramps? Beggars?”

  “No, Holy Father. They wore fine clothes.”

  “So they looked like gentlemen?”

  “Yes, Holy Father.”

  “What was it they were doing?”

  “They walked to the riverbank. It is not uncommon for folk to stand there. I oft see people throw things into the river from that point.”

  “These men threw a body into the river?”

  “Not at first. They looked up and down the river to check if anyone could see them.”