Page 77 of The Medici Return

“I am aware of who you are,” the priest said.

Really?

“You are the secretary for the National Freedom Party. I consider myself one of its followers.”

Interesting. “Then you know we are on the verge of controlling parliament. Our party leader will be the next prime minister.”

“And you?”

“I will be a government minister. Interior. Education. Culture. One of those. Which means I will be on the council of ministers.”

“How exciting.”

“We will set national policy. And there will be changes.”

The priest nodded. “I read the newspapers, watch television, listen to the commentators. This country needs a change.”

“Then I ask your help in finding out if I am a Pazzi. Knowing who you are is always important. I have struggled with my identity for a long time. I want to know, for certain, from where I came.”

Half true, at least.

Anna Maria had specifically pointed the way here. That could not have been for mere sentimental reasons. There had to be more. “You said a few moments ago that there was something you wanted to show me.”

“There is. And it may help with your quandary. Please, follow me.”

CHAPTER 52

SIENA, ITALY

STEFANO HAD POSITIONED HIMSELF WHERE HE COULD WATCH BOTHthe race and the Palazzo Tempi. The window was again open, but no one had appeared within the dark rectangle.

All quiet there.

But not on the track.

Ten horses started. Now only four remained with riders. Jockeys had been vaulted off their mounts, a couple seriously injured and carried off the track. Daniele had arranged for him to view the race from one of the other palazzos that ringed the campo, this one owned by a wealthy Tortoise. His was just down from the starting line, on the second floor, with a good view of the track over the crowd but not the best angle for the open window in the Palazzo Tempi. Several others were there with him, all crowded before the open windows. The American, Malone, was riding the Golden Oak’s horse, and was still in the race. He’d not been able to spot Cardinal Richter but he had located Ascolani among the Porcupines in their designated bleachers.

The horses rounded the final turn and passed beneath him, headed back toward the finish line, ready for the third and final lap.

He’d watched as Malone had been confronted by both the Panthers and Tortoises, fending off one, then the other had fallen offhis horse. The open window in the Palazzo Tempi continued to intrigue him. Thankfully, he had two of Daniele’s men staked out on the front door, keeping an eye on the comings and goings.

Instantly available by phone.

COTTON COULD NOT GET THE LOOK FROM THETORTOISE JOCKEY’Sface out of his mind, especially the eyes. Their gazes had met for only an instant, but long enough for him to clearly see not the determination that had been there before, but fear. Pain. Surprise. Then the jockey had collapsed off the horse. The man’s sudden reaction, jerking sharply upward, his spine arched inward, was odd for someone riding a horse, as you always tried to stay forward and low. But he could not focus on that. He was in the final lap and the Porcupine was within reach. He spurred Leone forward and closed the gap. Time was running out. The last lap would take less than thirty seconds to complete.

He had to make a move.

Another animal lost its footing and slammed into the track, tossing its rider aside. The horse whelped in pain and Cotton maneuvered Leone around the chaos. Only four horses were left, one of which had no rider. But the pilotless animal was slowing, dropping back, leaving only three to finish the race. They were now in a straightaway, heading away from the starting line, toward the first turn. Suddenly, Leone let out a low whelp and slowed. Cotton felt the horse favoring her front right leg.

Something was wrong.

They kept slowing to a bumpy trot.

The other two horses with riders, including the Porcupine, pulled away. He had to do something. Fast. He stole a quick glance behind and spotted the Giraffe’s riderless horse about ten feet behind. He angled Leone so they were close to the animal as it passed. Leone was hurt. No question.

And the Porcupine was getting away.

“Come on, Leone. We have to do this.”