The Dark Heart of Florence by Tasha Alexander (ebook reader screen TXT) 📕

to me and gently brushing her hand over my forehead. “He is the worst sort of man and abused you terribly. See him for what he is. Despise him. Only when you’ve given yourself over to that will you be able to close your heart to him.”

“I wish I could expose him,” I said. “He’s doing this to others and will continue to do so because no one will stand up to him.”

“You can’t expose him. Doing so would hurt you more than anyone. Your life would be in tatters. His would hardly change.”

“Can I have him murdered?” I asked.

“That’s the first encouraging thing you’ve said in months.” Alfia smiled. “If I ever encounter a wandering assassin, I shall send him directly to you.”

 Florence,

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“Marzo murdered your neighbor?” I asked.

“I believe so,” Vittoria said. She shouted something to her sisters and then came around the side of the booth to stand close to me, continuing in a low whisper. “I am not some innocent fool who believes every man who flirts with me might be interested in marriage. When Marzo and I went for walks, we always followed the same path, starting from my parents’ house, going through the Piazza Santa Maria Novella, and then up past the railway station and around in an unremarkable loop.”

“Not a route you would expect a young man with romantic inclinations to suggest?”

“Not at all. Wouldn’t you prefer a stroll along the Arno?” She glanced over her shoulder at her sisters and then, satisfied that they weren’t about to harass her, continued. “When we made our way back toward my home, instead of going the most direct way, he would always have us turn into the street immediately before the one on which I live. We would walk to the end, turn around, and then he would take me home.”

“The street dead-ends?”

“Yes, so why go down it?”

“He may have wanted to prolong his time with you,” I suggested.

“Nothing in the rest of his behavior made me think so,” she said. “It’s not as if he were bringing me to a secluded corner to steal a kiss. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Then, not long before Marzo died, a man called Signore di Taro was murdered in his house in that little street. We never again went that way.”

“Marzo may not have wanted to take you past the site of a grisly crime.”

“If so, he never mentioned it. Everyone was talking about the murder, but he showed no interest in it whatsoever. When I brought it up, he only shrugged and said that we all eventually die.”

“A callous reaction, certainly, but it doesn’t mean he killed the man,” I said.

“I know, signora, and I wish I had something more concrete to support my belief. I swear to you, Marzo was involved. We walked out together once more after that, and then he never called on me again. Soon thereafter he, too, was dead. I know in my heart there is a connection, even if I can’t prove it. I tell you all this only to warn you. Marzo was not the man he appeared to be. Asking questions about him could prove dangerous. There are many things about him that did not quite make sense. Now I must return to work. I wish you good health and safety.”

“Wait!” I called to her as she stepped back to her booth. “What is the name of the street where Signore di Taro lived?”

“It’s better that you don’t know.” She set about helping a customer and wouldn’t so much as look at me again. Recognizing that continuing to press her was unlikely to garner a result, I continued to make my way through the market, but gleaned no further information about Marzo.

My task was complete, but I had no intention of returning to the house yet. Instead, I marched straight to the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele II and into the lobby of the Savoy Hotel, which had opened twenty years earlier and was still lauded as providing the most modern accommodations in Florence. A bit of Britain on the Continent, for the unadventurous traveler who required that sort of thing. I penned a message to Colin, asking him to meet me at the first possible moment, and had the concierge arrange delivery to the Palazzo di Vieri. Then, knowing it would be some time until my husband returned home to receive it, I settled into a comfortable spot in the lobby, ordered a pot of tea, and regretted that I did not have a book to occupy me while I waited.

In the ensuing hours, I went over everything I’d learned pertaining to Marzo and his death, so that by the time Colin arrived, I would be able to present him with a measured overview.

“My dear girl, are you all right?” I had seen him enter the lobby and saunter over to me as if we made a habit of meeting in hotels. The concern in his voice was at odds with his deliberately casual demeanor.

“I am,” I said, “but I thought it best not to return to the house without first speaking to you privately. I’m sorry if I alarmed you.”

He sat next to me on the settee, ordered a whisky from the waiter who appeared almost the minute he arrived, and listened without taking his eyes from mine as I recounted for him all that had happened. When I finished, he nodded. “You were right to err on the side of caution. I find it hard to believe that the household staff pose a threat, but we shall have to take what you heard very seriously. I suspect it’s nothing more than them wanting to find this wretched treasure, but I will speak to them and get to the bottom of it. I can promise you that everyone working in the house has been carefully vetted. The entire—”

“Yes, I know. The entire household was set up to protect the countess, and no systematic changes