Michael White - The Medici secret

'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.