Midnight Angels (27 page)

“And you think I know something about that?” she asked.

“If I only thought it, I would have stayed in Rome to work on my other cases and let the locals handle this,” Rumore said. “Instead, I’m here, actually foolish enough to believe you are indeed the person of most interest.”

“But you can’t prove it,” she said, “at least not yet. Otherwise I would have been taken into custody long before you had a chance to finish that gelato.”

“How about I work with what I know, or at the very least suspect with a great deal of confidence?” Rumore said. “Let’s take the first two bodies, both male, professional in the criminal sense, and each one connected to one degree or another with an organization led by a man known both in the underworld and in the art world as the Raven.”

“But that’s not an organization to which I belong,” Kate said. “Unless you believe otherwise.”

“Per l’amore di dio
, no,” Rumore said, shaking his head and brushing off the accusation with a wave of his hands. “In fact, you stand in the very opposite direction of where the Raven’s group—the Immortals, in case you’re curious—lies. But the third victim, now she presents an entirely different portrait. Would you like to know why?”

“I’m a sucker for a good story,” Kate said.

“Her name was Josephine Maria Collins,” Rumore said.

He casually glanced at Kate and got the reaction he was hoping to see. She clearly knew the woman, and just as clearly didn’t know about her death. Somehow, the second part gave him a sense of relief. He came to Florence not sure exactly what he would face, knowing only that the city was electric now with the news of the Midnight Angels theft and was filled with a variety of warring camps, prime among them assorted members of the Immortals and the Vittoria Society. He had no doubt the young woman standing across from him, her reflection mirrored in the glass of a Ferragamo store, was the mastermind behind the theft. But he couldn’t yet imagine her as the one whose orders left two men for dead on the city streets, and he knew there was no chance of her ordering the torturous death of Josephine and the burning of her shop.

Rumore had enough experience with the methods of the Vittoria Society to know they were a reactive organization when it came to acts of violence and never sought to initiate a killing, only responding in defense or retaliation. That left the Raven and his group, and he was just as well versed in their mode of operation, having personally chased down three members of the Immortals only six months earlier, after they made a daring, if foolish, attempt to steal a Monet from a private gallery in the center of Rome. The botched heist had cost two security guards their lives, and a visiting tourist was only recently cleared to return to work, still suffering from the effects of the multiple wounds he sustained during the ordeal. They were a nasty bunch, and the Raven was at the top of the target list of every Art Squad detective in the world. But no one wanted to bring him down more than Rumore. The Raven would be the ultimate prize, and his capture alone would bring to a close at least two dozen unsolved art thefts and black market discoveries.

But the Raven had proven to be an elusive prey, clever enough never to leave behind a trail worth following, deadly enough to kill anyone who
would alert the authorities as to his whereabouts, his careful and precise planning keeping him several steps ahead of even the most dogged detectives. Still, Rumore was not deterred. He had learned a valuable lesson very early in his police career—patience was the best weapon one could employ against any criminal talent, especially one as good as the Raven.

He glanced over at Kate and knew that if she had indeed orchestrated the theft of the Midnight Angels, perhaps at the behest of the Vittoria Society or even acting on her own, then she would be very much in the Raven’s scope. He could piece together enough secondary evidence to hold her for questioning in at least two of the murders, perhaps even dig up one or two witnesses who could place her at the scene, or put the squeeze on her school friend and wait for him to break under the weight of the questions and the threat of a long prison term. Or he could let her float free, maintain his distance and wait for the pieces of the Midnight Angels puzzle to fall into place, hold his hand until the Raven surfaced. Then perhaps he could make the move he had longed to accomplish for years. Rumore found it ironic that the key to the capture of the deadliest and most elusive art criminal in the world potentially rested in the hands of a beautiful young student in Florence who specialized in studying the works of the master himself, Michelangelo.

Based on what he had read and recently observed, Kate acted much older than her actual age, a trait he found very appealing. It was not a unique occurrence for him to meet young women who were both attractive and intelligent. But a woman who added wisdom to that mix as well as a taste for adventure was a combination he knew would be difficult for him to resist.

“How did she die?” Kate asked after several moments of stunned silence.

“There never is a good way to die,” Rumore said, “but hers was one of the worst. She burned to death, tied to a wood beam inside her shop.”

“Do you know who did it?” she asked, tears rising but her voice now containing an angry edge.

“I have a pretty good idea,” Rumore said. “But an idea alone doesn’t hold up in a court of law, so what good is it, really?”

“Did you know her?”

He nodded. “I met her a few years back on one of my first Art Squad
cases,” he said. “She proved to be of valuable assistance, and over time she became a friend. She meant a lot to me—though, I guess, not as much as she meant to you.”

“I didn’t see her as often as I would have liked,” Kate said. “But whenever I walked into her shop, she made it seem like we had been together forever. I loved her. She was more than a friend, she was part of my family.”

“If I’m correct in assuming who killed Josephine, then I also know he won’t stop with just one friend,” Rumore said. “He’ll kill anyone close to you to get what he wants. He won’t stop until he is stopped.”

“But if I turn to you for help, maybe all that will go away,” Kate said. “Is that what you would like me to believe?”

“You’d be a fool to believe it at this moment,” Rumore said. “You don’t know me, haven’t had a chance to have me checked out, aren’t even sure if I’m an honest detective or on someone’s payroll. You’ll put that all in motion before we meet again, but in the meantime I want to assure you I will do my very best to keep an eye on you and try to keep you safe.”

“Why?”

“For very selfish reasons, I will admit,” Rumore said. “I don’t think you had anything to do with the murders of those two men we never did get around to discussing, but I have a hunch you could point me toward those who did. And then there’s the matter of the Midnight Angels. Now you won’t admit to me that you had any prior knowledge of their existence or that you had anything to do with their theft. But, you see, you don’t have to. All I need to do is look around and see all these criminals, art hunters, black market operators, various members of the Immortals and the Vittoria Society, all coming together in one city with one purpose and with only one name on their lips—yours. Now, why do you suppose that is?”

“They could all be wrong,” Kate said. “They could all be wasting their time hunting for something they only
think
exists. Rumors of the Midnight Angels have been around for centuries, and as long as those rumors exist, there are people—some with good intentions, most not—who descend on a city like Florence looking to bring reality to what they have heard. What makes you think this particular hunt is any different?”

“No one had ever found them before,” Rumore said. “The Lord himself knows that some of the very best in two fields—academic and
criminal—made many an attempt at their discovery, only to leave the city encased in dust and disappointment. Some stayed as long as three years, haunting the halls and basements of every museum and gallery, reading and rereading Michelangelo’s words, hoping to find that magical, hidden clue, staring at his work until their eyes appeared ready to melt, looking for that sign, that hint of where an incomplete masterpiece might rest. No one succeeded, until you arrived.”

“I don’t have them, Captain,” Kate said. “I give you my word.”

“I know,” Rumore said with a nod and a deep breath. “They’ve been taken again. It’s all pretty amazing, no? The Midnight Angels lay hidden for centuries with no one even coming close to unearthing them, and now, in a matter of hours, they are found and taken twice by two different individuals.”

“I didn’t expect you to believe me,” Kate said, surprised at his quick response. “I didn’t realize detectives were that trusting in nature.”

“I can’t speak for all of them,” Rumore said, “but I’m usually not.”

“Then how do you know I’m not lying?” she asked.

“You’re still alive,” he said. “If the Raven thought you had the Angels, he would have gone after you, instead of trying to pull information out of Josephine.”

“She died because of me, then,” Kate said.

“She died because of the work she chose to do,” Rumore said. “It was no secret she was a member of the Society and believed in their cause with deep passion and conviction. Her devotion to that cause probably led to the murder.”

“And where do you stand on that cause?” Kate asked.

“I’m a detective in the Rome Art Squad,” Rumore said. “That is my higher purpose. My work is very simple—I arrest art thieves, no matter how honorable their intentions might be. So, for now and for as long as you remain a suspect in my eyes, you and I walk on opposite sides of the street.”

Rumore nodded to her, like a gentleman taking leave of a woman he was courting, then turned and walked back up the old street whose history he knew so well.

CHAPTER
3

E
DWARDS HELD MARCO UP AGAINST A DARK STONE WALL, IN THE
middle of a dank alley just off the Viale Duca degli Abruzzi. The late night darkness was inching toward early morning gray, the sun still at least an hour from rising, and the streets were silent and empty.

“What is it you want from me?” Marco asked, his upper body trembling, his face and neck streaked with lines of cold sweat.

“The truth,” Edwards said. “And neither one of us is leaving here until I hear it.”

“I
have
told you the truth,” Marco said. “I’m not who you think I am. I have nothing to do with this group you keep talking about. I’m just a student, same as Kate. You must believe that, sir.”

“I
would
believe that had you not been seen talking to a member of the Immortals just yesterday in a café in Piazza Santo Spirito,” Edwards said, his anger checked, the force with which he held Marco enough to cause welts on the young man’s arms. “What were the two of you talking about?”

“He was a tourist,” Marco said, “or claimed to be. I was having a coffee and he asked me how much of a hike it would be to get to Piazza Michelangelo. I gave him my opinion and he moved on. The entire conversation lasted no more than thirty seconds, and the person you had spying on me should have told you.”

Edwards released his grip, turned and stood with his back against the wall, alongside Marco. “I need to know about your relationship with Kate,” he said. “Is it serious between the two of you?”

“Kate is my friend,” Marco said, “and I like her very much. I would do anything for her and would protect her in any way I could.”

“That’s quite a bit of devotion to someone you’ve known for such a short period of time,” Edwards said, “especially someone who has put you at potential risk for a long prison term and possibly even placed your life in danger.”

“Doesn’t friendship always come with a price?” Marco said.

Edwards looked at the young man and smiled. “Does she know?” he asked.

“Know what, sir?”

“That you care for her,” Edwards said, his tone toward Marco softening. “Beyond friendship, I mean.”

Marco looked at Edwards and shook his head. “I know who you are and I know how much Kate means to you,” he said. “And yes, I do care for her very much, which is all the more reason why you should believe me when I tell you I would never do anything that would bring her harm.”

“You might not mean to do anything hurtful,” Edwards said, “but you are up against forces that will exploit you. She has confided a great deal in you, and you have borne witness to the Angels themselves. You were part of the theft and were with her when she hid them. That’s a lot of information for someone fresh to our game to possess.”

“I’m part of this now,” Marco said. “It was not something I sought, believe me. But I’m too deeply involved to walk away from it now, assuming that’s what you’re suggesting I do.”

“I came here to gauge whether you could be trusted as we move forward,” Edwards said. “Now, while I think the answer to that question is yes, I’m not sure you’re up to what the mission might require. And that does give me pause.”

“What mission?”

“How far would you go to protect Kate?” Edwards asked. “And to protect the Midnight Angels?”

“I would do anything in my power to protect her,” Marco said with certainty.

“Would that include the taking of a life? Think about it.”

“It’s not something I ever thought I’d have to decide,” Marco said.

“Few do,” Edwards said, “but here it is for you now, and if you remain
determined to continue on this journey with Kate, it is a question to which I need an honest answer.”

“And if I can’t give you the answer you want, what happens to me then?” Marco asked.

“You go back to the life you had prior to meeting Kate,” Edwards said. “There would be no need for you to see any of us ever again. We’ll be of no threat to you, unless you decide to do something stupid with the information you currently possess.”

“Even so, how do I know that either one of those groups won’t still decide to come after me?” Marco asked.