'And the reason for the murder?' Benjamin asked.
'God only knows! One thing is certain: very few footpads or professional assassins use arquebuses or handguns of any sort. And, if they did there would be whispers and the miscreant responsible for slaying such a powerful man would soon be betrayed to gain the substantial reward.'
'And the king?' I asked.
'He is horrified, furious with the city. He said he will suspend its liberties if the assassin proves to be a Londoner.'
'I can't understand this,' I interrupted. 'Arquebuses are powerful pieces. You just can't carry one through London, stand in an alleyway, prepare to fire it, take aim and kill the leader of a Florentine embassy then disappear without anyone seeing you.'
Agrippa pulled a face. 'Well, that's what happened. Cheapside was thronged, but no one saw the assassin or the gun. They heard the bang and Albrizzi, who had been standing looking around, gave a cry and fell like a bird to the ground.'
'Where were his companions?' Benjamin asked.
'His daughter and son-in-law were nearby. She was admiring some English cloth. Enrico had gone into a goldsmith's shop to purchase some costly gift for his young wife. As soon as the fracas was heard, both son-in-law and daughter hurried to the spot. They had to fight their way through.' Agrippa smiled blankly. 'And, before you ask, neither of them was carrying a gun. Moreover, why should either or both of them plot the murder of a man they loved and revered? What is more,' Agrippa added, 'anyone who has fired an arquebus knows it leaves stains on hands and jerkin. Enrico was dressed in a beautiful white jerkin and he was immaculate.'
'Was the arquebus ball English or Italian?'
'Well, the body was taken back to Eltham, where it was placed in one of the king's private chapels. Royal embalmers dressed the corpse and removed the ball from Francesco's skull. It was of the common sort. The king's master gunsmith and the armourers at the Tower believe both arquebus and ball were English.'
'Where were the rest of the family?' I asked.
'Ah, well there's a story and a half.' Agrippa placed his empty wine goblet down on the table. 'Apart from Enrico and his wife, they were all at Eltham. It's very difficult to establish the truth of any of their stories but...' Agrippa's voice trailed off.
'Why was he killed?' Benjamin repeated his original question.
'God only knows!' Agrippa said again. 'There were tensions in the family, particularly between the dead man and his brother. Francesco was a supporter of the Medici but Roderigo, well, you'll find out for yourselves. In short, he believes Florence should revert to a republic governed by an oligarchy in which, of course, the Albrizzis would play a leading role.' Agrippa blew his cheeks out. 'There were other tensions, I suppose. Alessandro wanted more independence. And of course they all have enemies in Florence who might have paid some assassin to carry out the crime in London, well away from the Albrizzi stronghold.' Agrippa got to his feet,
'What do the Albrizzis say about the murder?' I asked.
Agrippa tapped the side of his face. 'Now, that's strange! They say nothing. They mourn Francesco's death and his corpse now lies buried in St Stephen's Chapel. However, the Albrizzis are a wealthy, sophisticated family. They will not level allegations against their host country and, remember, to Florentines secret assassination is a well-established political device. They'll bide their time and collect what information they can. If they find the murderer, they'll declare a blood feud, not resting until they have hunted him down.' Agrippa brought the brim of his hat lower over his eyes. 'The king and Cardinal Wolsey want the killer caught. They have posted rewards and used all the force of law to discover what they can, which is, precisely, nothing at all.' Agrippa gestured at us. That's why you are going to Eltham and, if the king wishes it, accompanying the Albrizzis back to Florence. Your task will be to discover the identity of the murderer.'
I closed my eyes and groaned. Here we go again, I thought. Old Shallot sent on his travels just to satisfy the whim of the cunning cardinal and of the great beast, that fat bastard King Henry VIII.
'What happens if the murderer stays in England?' Benjamin asked.
Agrippa shook his head and smiled faintly. 'Now, now, Benjamin. Cardinal Wolsey and the king both believe that, whatever the Albrizzis say, the assassin was a member of Francesco's own family. If he or she did not kill the man, they certainly paid gold for it to be done.'
'But you think the latter is highly improbable?' Benjamin queried.
'Yes, yes.' Agrippa squinted up at the sun. 'Hiring an assassin to do your dirty work can be very dangerous; once the assassin is unmasked, so is the person who hired him. Secondly, if you hire an assassin to kill a powerful man, you have no guarantee that he won't take your gold before earning some more by telling his potential victim. And finally—'