The Medici Letters: The Secret Origins of the Renaissance

by Taylor Buck

  “I’m proud of you, my son,” he said with a glimmer in his eyes. “You have become an excellent marksmen, Lorenzo. But make sure your intentions are as true as your aim. Never let power dictate your decisions.”

  Lorenzo looked to the trooper lying in the water. “Father, what do they want? Will they never cease until our family is destroyed?”

  “It’s power they seek. Il potere,” he said gruffly. “Always. It is man’s driving ambition,” Piero said.

  Lorenzo shook his head. “It’s more than that.” He looked up at his father. “They’re after il tesoro, aren’t they?”

  Piero closed his eyes and breathed a long sigh. He was quiet for a moment and then spoke slowly, his eyes still closed. “Who told you of this treasure?”

  “Il Padre,” Lorenzo replied.

  Piero smiled and nodded slowly. “Si, si. Il Padre. He was very fond of you. You know, Lorenzo?”

  “Si.”

  Both men remained quiet for a moment. The lorry came into sight, approaching from a distance.

  “Why will you not show me the treasure, Father?”

  Piero placed his hand on Lorenzo’s knee. “My son… what makes you believe I haven’t?”

  Lorenzo looked back, confused at his father’s remark.

  “You have already discovered much,” Piero said. “However, there is still much to learn.”

  “I don’t understand, Father. What have I discovered?” Lorenzo asked, begging for the truth.

  Piero turned and solemnly faced his son as if he was going to divulge the world’s secrets right then and there. He held out both hands, palms facing up. “There is the tangible and there is the intangible. A wise man seeks what he can never have… in order to gain the most.”

  “Aristotle?” asked Lorenzo.

  “No,” he said shaking his finger. “A different filosofo spoke those words. Your grandfather, Cosimo.”

  Lorenzo smiled as Padre entered his thoughts.

  “However,” Piero continued, “my son, if you seek the tangible, you shall have it. I suppose you’re at the age now to discover that which our family happened upon. The secret your grandfather passed on to me… I shall pass to you.”

  Lorenzo was filled with delight. His entire boyhood he had dreamed of learning the mysteries surrounding his family’s legacy.

  “Un’icona,” Piero spoke solemnly. “Your grandfather gave me a key, which is said to unlock ancient secrets. A collection of treasure that men would kill to possess. It will be yours, Lorenzo. I will see to it when we return again to the villa.”

  The key is at the villa, Lorenzo thought. He longed for it. “Thank you Father. I will use it for good.”

  “I know you will, my son… and so did Padre.”

  The lorry soon arrived and Lorenzo and Piero met with Giuliano who ran up to meet them, elated to see them alive. The caravan continued down the road together as the brothers discussed the exciting events that had transpired on the road. Lorenzo had proven his skill and cunning nature by averting a near-fatal disaster. He was proud to have aided his father and excited to finally learn about this secret. The secret was to be passed down. He would keep his grandfather’s dying wish and see to it that it was protected. Exhilaration grew in him as he pondered what might be.

  Soon it will be mine, he thought. Soon…

  CHAPTER 14

  FLORENCE, THE DIG SITE

  SEPTEMBER 7

  THE WHITE RANGE ROVER squeezed through narrow streets, rambling over alleys and cobblestone-paved thoroughfares deep within the city. Jack, Chester, Forlino and Valente made their way through Florence to the site of the dig. Forlino had been reading Kathleen’s email over and over on the drive. He seemed deeply intrigued by the message and the mysterious letter that was referenced. Jack, meanwhile, called the Klinik to check on Kathleen. He spoke with Dr. Gessner who reported she was stable and still showing positive neural activity. Jack also received an update from Porto. Although brief and hard to understand, Porto assured there was nothing suspicious to report.

  After navigating the maze of back streets, they came to a stop in an alleyway just two blocks to the east of the Uffizi Gallery. Large chain-link partitions stretched across the road and closed off the intersection. Thick, green meshing blanketed the interior of the fence and obstructed visibility to outsiders. Warning signs to would-be trespassers decorated the outside walls with familiar Italian cautionary directives. Like much of Florence, the alley appeared to simply be under construction. It was a common sight to see not only the buildings and streets covered, but many of the city’s monuments and famous statues were often enclosed by scaffolding. This alley was no different. To passersby, the ugly green makeshift tent was anything but interesting. However, Jack knew that the treasures lying inside were of such value that they would be considered one of the most important findings of the 21st century. It was a dream come true for archaeologists everywhere.

  “Ah! Here we are. Our diamond in the rough,” Forlino said as they parked just outside the gate. The men piled out of the vehicle and stood in the shadows of the old buildings flanking them on both sides. It had the look of a typical Italian back alley: colorful shudders open to the street, ornate street lamps stretched overhead, metal garage doors were drawn shut—tagged with colorful graffiti. Chester walked up to a door in the chain-link and unlocked two different padlocks using a key pulled from his pocket.

  “After you,” he said to Jack and waved him inside.

  As they entered the tent, the sunlight filtering through the green mesh bathed the men in a vibrant emerald hue. The room was neatly organized for an archaeological dig site. Computer stations, mobile GPR machinery and an assortment of large TerraTEK branded, commercial-grade drills and bits filled the room. Tables, water coolers and white boards stood between them and a manhole-size opening in the ground. Miniature yellow and red flags stuck out from the exposed dirt floor, pinpointing areas of interest. Bright yellow safety tape surrounded the perimeter of the hole, which was off to the far right of the alley. It seemed to continue underneath an old building next to it.

  “Here we are. As you can see all of the workers are gone. Nobody has touched a thing for 3 days now.”

  Jack stepped forward and cautiously peered down the hole.

  “Would you like to go down?” Forlino asked drumming his fingertips together with enthusiasm.

  “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  Forlino stepped up to the rim of the hole then grabbed a hold of the ladder descending into the darkness below. “I’ll go down first to guide you in,” he said and began climbing down into the shadows. Once he was out of sight, Jack heard him holler up. “Okay, Mr. Cullen. You can come down… but be careful. It’s quite dark.”

  Jack reached his hands around the ladder and began lowering himself down. He looked up at Chester. “You coming too?”

  “I’ve seen it enough,” he said. “I’ll stay up here and stand guard.”

  Jack chuckled at the remark—partly because he secretly found Chester’s sour attitude somewhat amusing, but mainly because Chester was not what you would call a security guard type. He was thin and somewhat clumsy, but he seemed to carry a stern persona well. He was probably the small, smart kid in class that developed a terse attitude as a means of defense.

  Jack looked around him. It felt strange to be at a dig site. Lots of memories surfaced. It had been a while since he had been out in the field. Years even. He and Kathleen used to go on expeditions together, even managing to get in their fair share of dangerous situations from time to time. Jack missed those days… he missed her.

  “Mr. Cullen, do you need any help?” Forlino offered from inside the hole.

  “No, I’m okay. On my way now.”

  Jack descended the rungs until he found solid footing below. As he looked around, his eyes began to adjust to the dim light. He could hear Forlino stumbling around in the dark, muttering curses in Italian.

  “The light switch is down here so
mewhere,” Forlino grumbled, using his cell phone to illuminate the floor. “Ah! Here we are!”

  Suddenly, a bright flash flooded the interior. Two high-powered, mounted floodlights illuminated the space. Jack could see all around him. Individual chambers pocked the walls and housed a library of scrolls—like the sorting room at a post office. The wall was carefully covered in a translucent protective curtain to keep out dust and debris. But it was not a completely successful deterrent. Jack studied the wall and became instantly captivated. He couldn’t help but marvel at the repository of ancient letters.

  “This is the portion we’ve uncovered so far.” Forlino motioned to the scrolls in front of them. He continued across the room to a stone slab wall. “This wall is separating us from another room…even larger than this one.” He ran his hands softly across the old stone. “However, it is load-bearing and we can’t get through it without special tools.”

  “Well you shouldn’t have a problem with that now.”

  “Thanks to you,” Forlino replied with a grin.

  “Chester mentioned that most of these scrolls are correspondence letters between the Medici family members and various colleagues?”

  “That’s correct. We’ve found 25 documents so far. Many of them from the early 16th century family members… Piero de’ Medici, Alessandro de’ Medici… but a few further back including one from Cosimo himself.”

  “Chester showed me the scan of that letter—the condition is pristine. Are there additional scans that have been made?”

  “Only a few… it takes time as you know. It’s a tedious and painstaking job to scan them all. We’ve got a year’s worth of work just in deciphering here.”

  “And the letter from Lorenzo to Michelangelo…you have no recollection of it?” Jack inquired.

  “Not at all. You can be sure that would be one I wouldn’t forget, though.” He looked up toward the opening in the ceiling. Jack noticed that Forlino appeared troubled over the letter. He seemed particularly bothered that he wasn’t aware it existed. “They must have found it the day they left. That’s the only thing I can think of…”

  Jack couldn’t help but pick up on the uneasiness in Forlino’s response. Not just anxious—borderline perturbed. He did find it odd that Kathleen had apparently kept the letter from Forlino. It wasn’t like her to do something so venal. He was certain that under normal conditions she would have followed protocol and properly documented the letter, seeing to it that proper steps were taken to ensure its safekeeping. The only thing he could come up with was that Kathleen didn’t feel the letter was safe in Florence—or safe with Forlino perhaps. She and Foley had left hastily, which may have been the reason that Forlino wasn’t made aware. But then again, Kat would have found a way to tell him if she really needed to.

  If he could just look through her notes...

  “Mr. Forlino, Kathleen had a journal that she kept on her all the time. It was an old, beat-up leather booklet that she wrote thoughts in.”

  “Yes,” his eyes sparkled. “As a matter of fact I do recall her jotting down notes on a pad.”

  “And you don’t remember seeing it after she left? Or at the accident?”

  “Unfortunately not, Mr. Cullen.”

  What did you do with your journal, Kat? Why didn’t you have anything on you when they found you? Jack needed to spend some time studying the site. He hoped that being there would open up an idea or spark a thought as to what she had uncovered and why she left.

  “You’re looking at an amazing discovery,” Forlino said as he peered at the letters. “This is all because of your wife… because of Kathleen. She has made history here.”

  “Thank you,” Jack said solemnly. “But I’d give all of this up just to have her back.”

  Forlino nodded understandingly. “Of course you would.”

  “Um, Jack?” Chester called, lowering his head down inside the hole.

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s someone here to see you.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “A woman named Marianne?”

  Jack nodded. “Okay, thanks. I’m coming right up.”

  Forlino looked at Jack curiously. “You have associates here in Florence?”

  “An acquaintance—of Kat’s, actually. She and Mari went to school together. She works in Florence now. If you’ll excuse me…”

  “Of course,” replied Forlino, gesturing to the ladder.

  Jack ascended the rungs much faster than the decent. Standing just inside the entrance to the worksite was Marianne Leduc, looking jittery and agitated. She scanned the interior of the worksite over her small, black-framed glasses. Long black hair fell stylishly over her right shoulder. A black blazer with rolled sleeves squared her petite shoulders and gave her a very professional appearance. A fitted white skirt reached down to her knees topping matched stilettos.

  As Jack walked up to meet her, Chester passed by him closely and whispered harshly, “Nobody is supposed to—”

  “I know,” Jack said, cutting him off. “It’s fine. I invited her.”

  Chester huffed and kept walking.

  “Mari,” Jack said welcomingly and reached his arms out to embrace her. “It’s good to see you.”

  They hugged briefly. “It’s good to see you too, Jack,” she replied with a hesitant smile.

  Jack could see concern written across her face.

  “Is… everything okay?” she asked.

  Jack smiled. “Thank you for coming, Mari. I’m really glad you’re here. Let me introduce you to a few of Kat’s colleagues. Signore Forlino, Signore Valente and the gentleman back there glued to the computer screen is Chester Allen.”

  Forlino and Valente both came forward and shook hands with Mari. Chester offered an anemic and disinterested wave from the back.

  “Nice to meet you,” she replied politely. “Marianne Leduc.”

  “Marianne’s an old friend of Kathleen’s,” added Jack. “They attended Wellesley together. She now works here at the University of Florence.

  “An esteemed establishment of academic excellence,” Forlino said stepping forward. “What area of the humanities do you teach?”

  “I’m an understudy actually,” she said with a controlled confidence. Jack observed the reaction, knowing she had been working on a full position there for years but had yet to receive a position of her own. “Political science.”

  “Che bueno! A beautiful young woman with a beautiful mind,” Forlino said kissing her hand.

  She forced a smile and tentatively pulled her hand back. Jack could tell she was very uncomfortable. He couldn’t say he was the least bit surprised.

  “If you’ll excuse us, Mari had a few things she was dropping by for me.” Jack turned to her. “Why don’t we head out to your car?”

  “Yeah, okay,” she said quickly. “I’m just outside.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Jack informed his colleagues as they swiftly exited the green tent.

  Mari walked ahead of Jack beneath the scaffolding toward her car. Jack noticed a tattoo still visible behind her right ear. A blue dolphin. Still there, even though her long hair now tried to hide it. It reminded him of the days when Mari and Kat roomed together at Wellesley—the year Jack met Kat—the year that he fell head over heels for his future bride. Of course, to Mari, Jack would forever be the guy that interrupted two best friends. In truth, Mari and Jack had never actually gotten along. It was quite obvious that she was a jealous person. Even so, Jack had always tried to be nice to her… as futile as his measures were. A flamethrower couldn’t melt her cold and icy exterior. It was no wonder she was still single...

  Mari stopped suddenly, as if she was reading Jack’s thoughts. She spun around and gave him a scathing glare. “Jack, what the hell is going on? Your message… I couldn’t make any sense of it.”

  “I know,” Jack said under his breath. “Please.” He motioned for her to get inside the car. “I’ll explain everything.” Mari unlocked her Saab and hesitantly entere
d the driver’s side, showing a glaring look of irritation. She didn’t like to be told what to do. Jack walked around and entered the passenger side. Both doors shut. They were alone.

  “Kat’s been in an accident.”

  “What? Oh my god. Is she… What happened?”

  “We don’t know what happened. She’s in a coma right now. The doctor is calling it a temporary wane of consciousness. Her brain activity is good and she has no sign of physical injury, but she is still unconscious.”

  Mari was shocked. “How could that…? I mean, I just saw her last week.”

  “I know. That’s why I wanted to see you,” Jack said. “Can you tell me anything about the conversation the two of you had? Was she acting strange or unusual at all? Did she seem nervous or anxious or anything?”

  Mari looked off, scanning her memory. She had a hand cupped over her mouth, her neatly applied teal nail polish pressed up against her lips. “Not that I remember,” she finally replied. “She mostly talked about work, about how busy she’s been and how excited she was to be working in Florence. We spent a lot of time talking about Valerie and Anna… she mentioned you got laid off...”

  Jack adjusted his position in the passenger seat. “Did she talk at all about anything she found here? Any specific mention of what she was doing?”

  “Well, I know she found some letters. She said she was using a new program she developed to scan the city.”

  “She mentioned her program to you?”

  “Yeah, she called it TechniScan or something. She said it was a major breakthrough in her GPR processing.”

  That bit of info stuck in Jack’s mind. Maybe there was more to it than he had originally thought. Kathleen had been developing TEKSCAN for years now. He knew the program was in its final stages of development only because she had been obsessing over it the last few months. But if she had finally completed it... if the code worked… the technology would be extremely valuable. The worth to private companies dealing in subsurface surveillance analysis, mainly foreign military, would be priceless. Jack had completely overlooked the possibility of someone pursuing this—but pursuit with fatal intent? It could result in an assault to gain access to the information. And with the kind of people involved in government surveillance, black ops stuff… anything was possible. There were others too. It wasn’t just singled out to military. Private contractors used GPR for their own exploits. Morgan Forbes came to mind.