The Medici secret

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The Medici secret Page 23

by Michael White


  'You're wondering where we've been? Believe me, this place is a rabbit warren.'

  A tall, lean man in a black suit, his dyed black hair swept back over his ears, emerged into the light. Beside him walked Aldo Candotti carrying a gun nonchalantly at his side. And behind them, Jack Cartwright came forward. He had a young woman with him: Rose. Cartwright kept her right arm yanked up behind her back, and her mouth was gagged with a length of black cloth.

  Jeff dashed down the steps, an inhuman growl coming from deep inside his chest. Candotti grabbed Rose from Cartwright and shoved the gun hard to her forehead.

  'Now, let's all try to remain calm, shall we?' The tall man in black declared with a faint smile.

  'Who the hell are you?' Jeff snapped. 'And what are you doing with my daughter?' He took a step towards Candotti who pushed the barrel harder into Rose's head, making her groan.

  'My name is Luc Fournier.' He signalled to Candotti to ease off.

  'And you,' Edie spat. 'What the hell are you doing here?' Cartwright did not reply.

  'Signor Cartwright has been in my employ for some time,' Fournier said. 'You look surprised, Signorina.'

  Edie rounded on Cartwright, eyes blazing. 'It was you! You killed your own stepfather.'

  Cartwright's expression of denial looked like it was painted on.

  'Poor Jack,' Fournier interjected. 'Poor Jack was always playing second fiddle, always overshadowed by the great Carlin Mackenzie. It was easy for me to find an ally. He jumped at the chance to tell me everything that was going on. It was I who obtained the Medici journal in 1966. It seemed quite possible there would be other treasures buried in the crypt. I didn't want anyone else stumbling upon them, now did I?' 'So you knew about the artefact immediately after it was discovered and you killed my uncle to steal it?' 'That was regrettable.'

  Edie glared at Cartwright. 'You piece of shit,' she snarled.

  'We are not here to settle family disagreements.' Fournier was clearly enjoying the role of master of ceremonies. 'There are far more pressing matters. This chamber was designed by Contessina de' Medici and built a few years before her death, a mausoleum in which she and her beloved husband could lie together for all eternity. All very touching. But my only interest lies with the contents of that rather unassuming little box over there.' He pointed to the pedestal standing beside the tombs.

  'As you have doubtless learned already, Cosimo de' Medici and his future wife Contessina travelled to this place almost exactly six hundred years ago. On that voyage they were accompanied by two men, Niccolo Niccoli, and Ambrogio Tommasini. They had left Florence under the auspices of a travelling mystic and philosopher named Francesco Valiani who guided them to a library in the monastery where it was believed important ancient documents were hidden. But they, or rather Ambrogio, found much more. He discovered a strange substance that could protect people from disease, but which could also kill, a biochemical agent.'

  'What does any of this have to do with us?' Jeff snapped. 'For God's sake, let my daughter go.' Candotti ignored him.

  'The contents of that box have a great deal to do with you, Signor Martin,' Fournier said, 'and Rose is my little insurance policy. You and Signorina Granger are a remarkable couple. I knew you would find a way to get here, after all you've been through. In fact I was relying upon it. Because you have a vital piece of information I need.' 'We do?'

  'I need four numbers,' Fournier said. 'Four Roman numerals to be precise. And I have only two, those etched into the key retrieved from the Medici Chapel, the numbers D and M. That presents me with a problem.' Jeff shrugged his shoulders.

  'But it also presents you with one, Signor Martin.' Fournier smiled his sinister smile. 'On your travels you came across two more Roman numerals, which were overlooked by my people. We could have all been saved a great deal of trouble this afternoon if someone had used their initiative. Now you will please give me those two numbers.' 'Why should I?'

  'Because, Signor Martin, if you do not, the lovely Rose here will very quickly end up as dead as Cosimo and Contessina.' 'IV and V,' Jeff said.

  'Thank you so much. You see how easy it is.' Fournier walked up the marble steps to the pedestal and the locked box. A barrel of four individual metal cylinders comprised the lock. He stared at them for a moment then rolled them into position. 'Other than the monks of Golem Korab,' he said. 'Ambrogio Tommasini was one of the few people ever to see what was contained in this box. He tampered with things he did not, could not, understand and paid the penalty. After his death, the Medici secreted away this box. But our good friend, Niccolo Niccoli, wrote a journal about their adventure in which he left a series of cryptic clues. Apparently, the secret could be revealed using four numbers and the words: to be a god. Placed in the correct sequence, the numbers IV, V, M and D spell DIWM or DIVUM… God.' The latch clicked open, and Fournier raised the lid. Reaching down, he carefully lifted the vial level with his eyes. 'Amazing!' he murmured.

  'Will you please let Rose go now?' Jeff said. 'You've got what you came for.'

  Fournier nodded to Candotti, who reluctantly loosened the gag and shoved Rose away. She stumbled, but Jeff moved forward quickly to catch her.

  There was a discreet cough from the doorway. Candotti swivelled round and aimed his gun.

  'There's really no need for that, Deputy Prefect,' Roberto said, taking several paces into the room. He was limping slightly, his left arm was in plaster from shoulder to hand and it lay in a sling. His face was still badly discoloured.

  'Visconte Armatovani.' Fournier gave the briefest of bows. 'To what do we owe the pleasure?'

  'How could I resist, Monsieur Fournier? I was worried about my friends here. I also had Some enforced leisure time in the hospital to do some thinking. And, even if I say so myself, I do have a rather fine library. By great good fortune, copies of some parts of Niccoli's journal had fallen into the hands of my ancestors. I have learned some remarkable things about that…' and he nodded towards the glowing tube in Fournier's hand. Fournier raised an eyebrow, 'Oh, really?'

  'This is the great secret which the Medici realised had to be hidden from the sight of men. To them it was a miraculous substance. To be sure, it had sent one of their friends to a most hideous death, but the contents of that vial could protect people from the plague. But Cosimo and Contessina had seen at first hand how such a thing could corrupt. Men would be willing to sacrifice their very souls for something like this. I'm sure you would love to tell us all about it, Monsieur Fournier.'

  Fournier's eyes gleamed with triumph. 'The vial contains a very rare biochemical agent called Ropractin. You've all heard of Ricin and Sarin, both very nasty chemicals that in tiny quantities can kill thousands. Ropractin comes from a mould called Tyrinilym Posterinicum, found in damp climates. Refined and purified, it produces a liquid that has a fluorescent green hue. In trace amounts Ropractin kills bacteria like a super penicillin. But, above a certain concentration, it causes the rapid onset of some very unpleasant diseases for which there are no known cures.

  'The Medici discovered this the hard way. They had no idea where this vial came from originally, and probably none of us will ever know. Perhaps some anonymous alchemist discovered it. Who knows?'

  'But the point is,' Roberto interrupted. 'You have not come all this way to help combat disease, or for medical science…'

  'Do we have to listen to all this, Luc?' Candotti blurted out. 'You can't trust this man…'

  Fournier turned slowly towards the Venetian Police Chief. 'You amuse me, Aldo.' Candotti looked puzzled.

  'A man such as yourself talking about trust. You have sold your career and the trust placed in you by the good people of Italy. And for what? The few pieces of silver I have passed your way.' He shook his head, tutting. 'And you, Signor Cartwright,' Fournier went on. 'Do you have any pearls of wisdom to add? Any words of warning about who we may or may not trust?' Cartwright remained silent.

  From his jacket pocket Fournier removed a snub-nosed pistol. He raised his g
un and shot Cartwright and Candotti between the eyes.

  Jeff crouched down shielding Rose with his body. Fournier had turned his gun on Edie, but he didn't fire. Roberto had a Beretta M9 in his good hand aimed directly at Fournier's head. 'Edie, Jeff, Rose, get out of the way.' They took cover behind the tomb. 'You and I have no quarrel,' Fournier said quietly. He began to back away towards the door. 'And you dare not shoot. If I were to drop this vial…'

  Roberto held the Beretta steady for a second, then lowered it. Fournier dived to one side. Crouching low to the ground, he fired once, wide of his target, sped towards the exit and disappeared. Edie, Jeff and Rose emerged from behind the Medici sarcophagi, averting their eyes from the carnage just a few feet away. 'We can't just let that maniac go,' Edie said.

  'What do you suggest?' Roberto responded. 'We're not the police. Anyway,' his eyes flickered towards Candotti's body, 'they weren't a great help.'

  'Roberto's right, Edie,' Jeff said. 'Remember why we got into this in the first place? To find out who killed your uncle. We know the answer now.'

  'Oh great,' she growled. Marching up the marble steps, she stared down at the empty box, hands on her hips. Then suddenly, she yelled and kicked the base of the pedestal.

  There was a loud cracking sound from the floor beneath her feet, followed by a high pitched whine and the sound of stone grinding on stone. The pedestal toppled to one side, sending the empty box clattering down the steps. From a point above the entrance to the chamber, a massive stone block slid down from the lintel. It slammed into the floor, making the whole room shudder.

  No one moved. All they could hear was the steely sound of small stones and debris falling from the ceiling on to the marble floor.

  Tears welled up in Rose's eyes. 'We're trapped aren't we?'

  'There's always a way, sweetheart,' Jeff said and put his arm around her shoulders.

  In place of the column was a perfectly square hole. Inside lay rows of wooden tubes. Jeff reached in, lifted one out and put it on the floor carefully before picking up another, almost identical tube.

  'Scrolls, like the one Sporani found in the Medici Chapel,' Roberto said.

  Jeff removed a few more, then spotted something lying underneath. 'There's another box.' 'Can you lift it out?'

  'No, it's fixed in place. There's a lock, identical to the other one.' Jeff rolled the cylinders to form the right combination. There was a satisfying click and he lifted the lid.

  An identical vial lay nestled in the velvet padding. On the inside of the lid, inscribed in gold was a line of Latin. Roberto translated it: ALL MEN ARE TREACHEROUS. Jeff lifted out the vial and held it up. It weighed almost nothing and shimmered luminous green in the light from the oil burners.

  'I know this sounds crazy. But it seems almost alive.' 'For fuck's sake Jeff, be careful,' Edie muttered.

  'It looks pretty robust,' Jeff replied. 'Thick glass or crystal. If Tommasini killed himself he must have opened it. Look, this has been expertly resealed.' He pointed to the end of the tube where a stout brass cap joined the glass, a waxy substance had been moulded into the join. 'OK, but even so…'

  'So,' Jeff said, passing the vial to Roberto. 'Two vials. One real, one fake?'

  Edie laughed suddenly, an edge of hysteria to it. 'Bloody marvellous. We have the vial, but we're shut in with no way out.'

  'Damn it!' Jeff walked over to the door. A thin line around the edge was the only indication that there had ever been an opening at all. 'This is ridiculous. How can this happen? How could fifteenth-century engineers construct such a thing?'

  'They weren't the first,' Roberto replied. 'Four and half thousand years ago the Great Pyramid was sealed up immediately after the pharaoh was buried. It was all done automatically using an ingenious system of ropes and pulleys. Don't forget who we're dealing with. The Medici were not your average citizens. They had amazing resources at their disposal, and Cosimo and his pals were steeped in ancient knowledge.'

  'And the Humanist ideal,' Edie sneered. 'Not much good to us now.' 'What did you say?' Roberto snapped. 'The Humanist ideal…' 'Of course!'

  Roberto raised the vial to eye level. 'The Humanist ideal.

  'What are you going on about, Roberto?' Edie glared at him.

  'Cosimo and his friends were driven by the power of knowledge, but they were also very high-minded. They believed personal integrity was paramount. Note the inscription.' He pointed to the lid of the box. 'They realised the power of the vial. They knew it could destroy their world. That's why they hid it here.'

  'So what are you trying to tell us?' Rose asked shakily.

  Crouching down, Roberto placed the vial back in its box and shut the lid.

  For several moments nothing happened. Roberto stepped back, keeping his eyes glued to the opening in the floor.

  'It's not…' Jeff began and stopped. A low rumbling came from the floor and the box sank down into the stone stairs. They watched it descend three feet, four, five. It stopped and a stone block slid across the space sealing the box deep inside the tomb. Then came a new sound, from across the room, the grating of stone on stone. It grew louder. They ran down the steps, reaching the floor as the block of stone in the doorway began to lift. They dashed towards it and ducked under the rock, almost falling over each other into the dark corridor on the other side.

  They were picking themselves up in the darkness when, without warning, the block stopped moving. There was a moment of silence. Then came a noise like the growling of some monstrous beast. It grew louder and louder. A tremendous crash came from inside the chamber and they could see through the opening great boulders tumbling through the air and smashing to the floor.

  'Quick! The ceiling is coming down,' yelled Roberto. Jeff grabbed Rose and they made their way as fast as they could towards the exit, Roberto limping a few feet behind the others. The walls were shaking and the floor began to crack and splinter. Towards the end of the corridor, they felt a massive jolt like a seismic tremor. Rose screamed. In the grey light they saw a chasm a metre wide shudder across the floor and up the wall. Edie helped Roberto cross the fissure. He slipped, landed heavily and convulsed in pain. 'Come on… the exit is just ahead,' Edie screamed above the noise.

  Catching up with Jeff and Rose, they all kept running as fast as they could, not looking back. Lathered with sweat, they emerged into the air. The cold hit them like a sledgehammer, but it was a relief. Night had fallen, and it was not easy finding their way back on to the shingle. But then, the darkness was ripped away as an intense beam of light broke over the mausoleum and a helicopter roared into view, before it banked away to the north.

  They could hear voices coming from the direction of the monastery. And out of the night another bright beam cut a swath through the darkness. A small motor launch roared up on to the beach. A Macedonian police officer jumped out and splashed his way to the shore. Roberto led the way and Jeff held Rose close as they crossed the rough ground to follow the policeman.

  The chopper was back and was swooping low over the water as they covered the short distance to the edge of the lake. As they made dry land, another officer saw them, broke into a run and called into his radio for assistance.

  Outside the old monastery it looked like the aftermath of a military operation. Close to the towers they could see figures in bulky white biohazard suits erecting a large inflatable decontamination tent. The chopper returned to hover over the towers and another was perched on a narrow plateau of rock a dozen metres from the entrance to the ruins. A policeman instructed them to follow him. Inside the helicopter, three men in biohazard suits sat with rifles across their laps. On the floor behind the pilot, his hands cuffed behind him, was Luc Fournier. His face was badly bruised and his suit ripped. 'Is this the man?' the policeman asked Jeff. Fournier did not even look up. The policeman gave the pilot the thumbs up.

  As they ducked away from the whirling blades, Roberto said, 'OK, so I arranged a little back-up.'

  Jeff could not resist laughing, and with
a grin, Roberto leaned forward to ruffle Rose's hair. 'You two go and get warmed up,' he said. 'I think we're all going to be put through decontamination.'

  Two paramedics ran up and escorted Jeff and Rose to the ambulance chopper.

  'You certainly know how to put on a show, don't you Roberto?' Edie said, her eyes gleaming. 'You complaining?' 'No!' She laughed and looked away.

  'I want to show you something before we get checked out'

  She slipped her hand through his good arm. 'You are the most extraordinary man I have ever met. How on earth did you find your way here?'

  'I called the Medici Chapel, hoping to reach you, but instead talked to Sonia. She told me about the key and Candotti. Google and my library did the rest'

  'Ah yes, your library. I can just picture Vincent heaving all those books to the hospital.' 'Made a change from grapes.'

  They passed the remains of the western tower and skirted the outer wall of the monastery. A path led directly to a circular stone platform, which then afforded them a vista of breathtaking beauty. Lake Angja lay stretched out before them, glistening in the moonlight like a black and white photograph taken with a starburst filter. They could see the mausoleum, a flattened cube of dark stone on the island off to the west. It appeared fathomless, and now they knew that it did indeed harbour many secrets inside its walls.

 

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