Despite the late hour, the streets were alive with pedestrians and people visiting with one another. Raven passed a few young families on the piazza, wheeling sleeping children in strollers. She always found it surprising that Florentine parents were so lax with bedtimes.
When she approached the bridge, she took a deep breath and began to run. As she had that morning, she felt joy in every step, her body bursting with happiness.
She was so captivated by her experience she didn’t notice the man who followed her at a distance on a black Vespa. He was dressed in black and helmeted.
She jogged to the Duomo, pausing to look up at the red-tiled dome. She could not have known this, but the Prince, who spent almost every sunset high atop the edifice, had not done so that evening. Instead, he’d spent hours on other, more important pursuits.
Not surprisingly, the palazzo was closed when she reached its double doors. Looking to the upper floors of the building, she saw light emanating from the windows. Someone was working, even at this late hour.
On a whim, she turned on Via de’ Gori, following the exterior wall of the palazzo, and made a right on Via de’ Ginori. Here she found the back entrance, its heavy wooden doors located inside an elaborate stone arch. Enormous black iron rings flanked the doors and Raven guessed they’d been used to tether horses at one time.
At the right of the arch, set into the palazzo wall, was a small white box. Raven recognized it as part of a security system. Certainly whoever guarded the palazzo at night would be monitoring the door. It would only take a moment to ask him or her a few questions.
She pressed the call button and waited.
And waited.
She waited for what seemed like an age, watching pedestrians and the occasional car pass. She did not see the black Vespa at the corner, or the driver, who was pretending to check his cell phone. She did not see the mysterious figure that looked down on her from the rooftop of the building opposite.
With a sigh, she turned to leave, but static emerged from the speaker and she heard a voice.
“State your business.”
She leaned forward, closer to the speaker. “Good evening.”
“State your business,” the man repeated, his tone bland and indifferent.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” she stammered, wondering what she should say. “I should have visited during the day, but I was delayed. I’m looking for—um—Signor William York. Can you tell me how I can contact him?”
Raven waited for a response, regretting the impulse to use the recluse’s name. But it was far too late for discretion.
Internally, she made an attempt to formulate an explanation for why she wanted to see William York. But the voice didn’t ask her that question.
In fact, the voice asked her nothing at all. There was a long, pregnant silence.
“Just a moment.”
Raven was shocked. She’d barely hoped to wheedle a little background information from one of the security guards. She hadn’t expected them to recognize the name of William York, let alone to provide her with contact information. Could it be that Professor Emerson was correct and that William York was a patron of the palazzo?
And if Emerson had learned of William York from Vitali, why was Vitali denying it?
Raven grew very nervous. If there were such a person as William York and he’d taken care to protect his identity, how would he feel about her showing up and asking about him? What if he was connected with the robbery at the Uffizi?
She took a few careful steps backward, looking to see if anyone suspicious was nearby. For the moment, at least, she appeared to be alone.
She decided it would be safer if she left and left quickly. As she moved, she caught sight of a small black camera, located at the top of the stone arch and pointing in her direction.
Great. Now they know what I look like.
Static emerged from the speaker again and Raven started.
“There’s no one here by that name. Leave now.” Someone else was speaking. His voice was more melodic, it was true, but it was also hostile.
She moved in the direction of the speaker. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you and—”
Raven was swiftly interrupted. “It’s time for you to leave.”
She didn’t need to be asked twice. She began running in the direction of the Duomo, as fast as her legs could carry her. A black Vespa took off from where it had been idling around the corner, driving in the opposite direction.
Raven was too anxious to notice the man and his machine, or the fact that, by the time she passed the Duomo, he was following her.
Of course, she didn’t realize she’d captured the attention of the decidedly nonhuman being standing on top of the building across the street as well.