I looked at Benjamin, who sat with his chin cupped in his hand.
'Well, Master?'
'Well, Roger, although Lord Francesco is dead, I fear few mourn him. Roderigo has taken to being head of the family like a duck to water. Alessandro is full of sound and fury signifying nothing. Enrico is a cold fish. The Lady Bianca is hardly the grieving widow, whilst Lady Beatrice seems besotted by a family soldier.' 'And Preneste?' I asked.
'A priest, an accomplished clerk. He hides his emotions well.' 'And Maria?'
Benjamin turned, grinning from ear to ear. 'She's the weak link in the Albrizzi chain. A dwarf, an interesting phenomenon. She's sharp, nimble-minded. She's English and I don't think she's too fond of her patrons.'
'And the murderer?' I asked.
'Oh, it could be any one of them. Or, indeed, it could be all of them.' He paused as a bray from silver trumpets echoed through the palace. 'But come, Roger, let's wash and change so as to be ready for "dearest uncle".'
We went back to our little garret, climbing wearily up the winding wooden stairs.
'Almost as high as Jacob's ladder,' I murmured.
Benjamin was about to reply when a voice hissed.
'Master Crosspatch Onion!1
I stared around.
'Master Crosspatch Onion!'
I saw a very small recess in the wall. I stepped forward.
'Don't be stupid!' the voice hissed. 'Go up to your room but, when the bells chime, you and your master come downstairs to the boxwood garden. It's a small pleasance. Well, go on, go on!'
Benjamin looked at me and shrugged to show that he was willing to do as she said. We returned to our narrow little closet and finished the wine and bread I had stolen. Benjamin was like a child, almost hugging himself with pleasure.
'I told you, Roger, Maria is the weak link in the Albrizzi chain.'
I sat, silently wondering why the little woman should make her approach so quickly. At last the bells chimed and Benjamin and I went downstairs. A servant, after I had threatened to boot him up the backside (he was smaller than me), agreed to show us where the boxwood garden was. It was a small pleasance overgrown with grass, a perfect square hedged with boxwood and with a stone bench on each side. The flower beds had long disappeared, giving way to Michaelmas daisies, buttercups and a few straggly rose bushes.
'Over here!' a voice whispered.
We crossed to one of the benches and sat down. Maria was apparently hidden in some small cavity within the boxwood behind us.
'It is Maria?' I asked.
'No, it's Richard III, Crosspatch!' she hissed back. 'Are your wits as crooked as your eyes?' 'What do you want?' I demanded.
'Oh, for God's sake!' Maria hissed. 'Look as if you are talking to each other, not to me! Sweet Lord, what a precious pair of turtle doves! You'll not survive in Florence. Baby chicks in a brood of vipers!'
'What do you want?' Benjamin asked authoritatively.
"The truth.'
'And what is the truth?' 'Nothing is what it seems to be.' 'We have gathered that,' I replied sardonically. 'Shut up, Crosspatch, and listen! Beware of Giovanni the condottiero. He likes killing and he dislikes you. The Lady Bianca is a whore. She was playing the two-backed beast with her husband's brother.' 'Why was that?'
'The Lord Francesco was impotent.' 'How do you know that?'
'Because, on a number of occasions, he asked me to service him.'
I snorted with laughter.
'With my hand. And I used to creep into their bedroom and watch him thrashing about. He was about as limp as you are.'
Benjamin's eyes widened at the dwarf-woman's crude bluntness. I gestured to him to keep silent.
'Why are you telling us this?' I asked.
'My loyalty was to the Lord Francesco. He could be a bully and a thug but he was kind to me. My parents were travelling players. When they died of the plague outside Florence, Lord Francesco took me into his household.'
'And the rest of the family?' I asked.
'The son, Alessandro, is all bombast, but still very dangerous. He has ambitions of making the Albrizzi as great as the Medici in Florence.'
'And Enrico?'
'A silent one, but still waters run deep. He is not an Albrizzi but a member of the powerful Catalina family. His mother died from the great plague just before Savonarola appeared in Florence. His father and elder brother were mysteriously murdered. Lord Francesco took Enrico into his own house.1
'And Enrico's marriage to Francesco's daughter Beatrice united their fortunes.*
'Oh, well done, Onion-Eater!'
'And did Enrico welcome the alliance?'
'He does sometimes resent the Albrizzi shadow, but he holds his own. He has won the favour of Giulio de' Medici, Cardinal Prince of Florence.' 'Does he love the Lady Beatrice?'
'He's infatuated. She is as hot as a bitch on heat. I have seen her bedsport. She'd please any man.' 'You seem to see everything,' I murmured. 'There are advantages to being small, Onion-Skinner!' 'And Preneste?'