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J ulia and Courtney sat across the desk in the office, a bright white room lined with framed official certificates and group photographs of carabinieri .

They’d been taken to the Comando Provinciale, the Florence police headquarters near the Arno, and Julia had given a complete statement to Marshal Vernio, a sixty-something precinct captain with refined features and wavy gray hair.

His white shirt was crisp even at this late hour, and he looked born into a navy jacket trimmed in red around the epaulets.

Julia told him everything, starting with her husband’s murder, going through her vision of Gianluca being run off the road, and ending with how she was attacked by White Fiat and Hoodie in the Boboli Gardens, even about her premonition, being microdosed with psychedelics, and the blue aura that she thought may have been Caterina, if it wasn’t a hallucination.

Marshal Vernio lifted an eyebrow as he typed on his desktop computer, and Julia felt her anxiety coming back when he questioned her further, about the night that Hoodie murdered Mike in Philly.

When she was finished, Marshal Vernio checked his desktop screen.

“Now, Ms. Pritzker, I have your statement, and its gravamen is that you believe there was a conspiracy to buy your property in order to resell it to Adamo Bucci and the Romagna Group, to develop into a hospitality complex. You believe that your realtor Franco Patelli was part of the conspiracy and that your housekeeper Anna Mattia Vesta and her husband Piero Fano were also involved, drugging you in order to make you think you were crazy or that the villa was haunted, so that you would sell it and go back to America.”

“Right. When it looked like I wouldn’t sell, or at least not fast enough, they upped the ante.”

“I understand.” Marshal Vernio nodded. “You believe that Marshal Torti and two carabinieri from Savernella were also involved. The conspiracy, and at this point we are unsure who in the conspiracy, attempted to murder Gianluca Moretti because he didn’t want you to sell the house and because you and he were beginning a relationship that might incline you to stay in Tuscany.

Then, when they saw they could not convince you to sell, they attempted to kill you, which was their motive for the attack tonight in the Boboli. ”

“Yes.”

“So, both the attempted murder of Gianluca Moretti and the murder of your husband Michael Shallette were in furtherance of the conspiracy. Is that your belief?”

“Yes,” Julia answered, though it was hard to hear. She felt a wave of guilt that she knew would never go away. “What are your next steps, if I may ask?”

“Obviously we will investigate these allegations starting tonight, via many means. Our goal is to identify the bottom rung of the putative conspiracy and hope we gain confessions and cooperation to indict whoever is giving orders at the top rung.” Marshal Vernio checked his phone.

“I will share with you that we now have the name and identification of the two men who assaulted you in the Boboli. The man you call White Fiat is Bernardo Vitali and Hoodie is Ciro Nardini.”

Julia felt her chest tighten at the name of the man who killed Mike, and Courtney looked over at her, sympathetic.

“Both men are in custody at the hospital. Vitali is in stable condition. Nardini’s condition is critical but he is expected to survive. He sustained a skull fracture and a broken collarbone.”

“I hope he’s in pain,” Julia said, meaning it.

Courtney interjected, “He will be if I run into him.”

“Both men have criminal records and are known to us as thugs-for-hire. We will endeavor to identify the third man, whom you call Ballcap and who followed you at the Uffizi, as soon as possible. We have your photos, and I have sent them on to my officers.” Marshal Vernio gestured at the photos on his desk, which he’d printed from Julia’s phone.

“I will send a team to Savernella to meet with Marshal Torti and another team to Croce to meet with your realtor Franco Patelli. We will also be paying a visit to Anna Mattia Vesta and Piero Fano in the near future. They should not be too hard to find.”

“Good.” Julia thought it sounded thorough. “What about Adamo Bucci of the Romagna Group?”

“We will visit him, as well.”

“Can I ask another question? How does that work, with Ciro Nardini being charged with my husband’s murder? The murder took place in Philadelphia, so you don’t charge him with that here, do you?”

“No.” Marshal Vernio frowned. “I will liaise with Detective Malloy of the Homicide Division in Philadelphia in the morning. They have jurisdiction over the murder of your husband, and they will be in charge of that investigation and prosecution.”

“Which case goes first? Or do they run at the same time?”

“We go first. This matter involves crimes on Italian soil perpetrated by Italian citizens. We will get it sorted with law enforcement in Philadelphia, and you will be kept informed, as you are integral to both prosecutions.” Marshal Vernio’s face fell into grave lines.

“However, our investigation does not happen overnight. Were you intending to return to the villa from here?”

“Yes,” Julia answered, nervous at the thought. “Do you think you could put a police car in front of the house? Others in the conspiracy may still come after us.”

“Certainly, that was my concern, too. I will send you home tonight with two officers, and I will make sure there is protection for you until we have apprehended all of the suspects.” Marshal Vernio nodded, in a final way.

“I will kindly ask you to keep our discussion confidential, and not to post about it on social media.”

“Of course not. Thank you.”

Courtney interjected, “Marshal Vernio, I’m supposed to leave Italy tomorrow. Is that okay?”

“Yes. Please give me your contact information, in the event that we need to follow up.”

Courtney looked at Julia. “Jules, are you still okay with my going?”

“Totally. Please, go. I’ll be fine.”

Marshal Vernio cleared his throat. “Ms. Pritzker, I have two points I would like to clarify about your statement. You believe that Gianluca Moretti was run off the road on his motorcycle because you saw this in a vision, which took place in the hospital?”

“Yes.”

Marshal Vernio frowned. “I cannot file charges on that basis, for obvious reasons.”

“They’re not obvious to me,” Julia shot back.

“When you investigate Marshal Torti, Nardini, Vitali, and whoever Ballcap is, I guarantee you’ll be able to substantiate charges for what they did to Gianluca.

Maybe they’ll turn on each other, like you say.

One way or the other, whoever did this has to be charged.

” Julia worried about Gianluca, even now.

“No one loves this city more than he does. He deserves your full force—”

“I have your point.” Marshal Vernio raised a hand. “The other part of your account I would like to clarify is what happened in the Boboli, between you and Nardini. How did you really get away from him and inflict those injuries on him? It cannot be the account you told me.”

“It is, I swear. I managed to get him off of me and send him into the base of the sculpture. It could’ve been adrenaline, or the psychedelic, or even the spirt of Caterina, empowering me.”

Marshal Vernio pursed his lips. “The ghost of Duchess Caterina Sforza?”

“Look, I know what I saw, but I admit, I’m not sure if Caterina was really there or not.

She could’ve been because, evidently, I have abilities as a medium.

I thought they’d gone away, but maybe they haven’t, completely.

If you want to verify what I’m saying, contact Helen Davenport. She’s worked with Scotland Yard.”

“I have heard of her.”

“So then you know I’m telling the truth.”

Marshal Vernio clucked, shaking his head. “So Duchess Caterina Sforza herself, dead for hundreds of years, enabled you to throw an adult male against the pedestal of the sculpture.” Marshal Vernio mulled it over. “Em, Ms. Pritzker, I wonder if, perhaps, you misremember.”

Julia blinked. “I don’t. It just happened.”

“Reconsider the matter. When one is under threat of mortal danger, one’s perception may be faulty and one’s memory may be, too.

” Marshal Vernio cocked his head, his manner deliberate.

“Here’s what I think happened. I think Nardini was chasing you and trying to catch you, but just as he reached you, he accidentally slipped and fell against the pedestal, injuring himself. ”

“No, that’s not true.”

Marshal Vernio smiled gently, his manner newly paternal. “Ms. Pritzker, this incident will arouse great public interest. The media is already gathering outside. Residents heard the sirens and saw police action. The Boboli is a major tourist attraction, known worldwide. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Julia answered, but she didn’t know where he was going.

“So, if I file your account in your official statement, it will attract the press and the media, perhaps from all over the world. That will result in reporters, questions, stories, and headlines about you, for years to come. The notoriety will upend your life.” Marshal Vernio opened his palms. “Therefore, I suggest that I draft a statement for your signature, which will set forth the above version of the incident, with Nardini accidentally falling.” Marshal Vernio paused, expectantly. “Will you…?”

“What?” Julia asked, puzzled. “Sign?”

“Yes, and will you also…?”

Courtney interjected, “She’ll shut up, Marshal Vernio.”

Julia looked over. “Shut up about what, Courtney? That’s not what happened.”

Courtney smiled, amused. “He knows that, Jules. He needs a pitch for the media. This way, they get their headlines and clicks, and you won’t be ‘The Crazy American Who Turned Blue in the Boboli.’”

Julia caught up. “Oh.”

Courtney winked. “Welcome to sales, honey.”

Julia left the marshal’s office with Courtney and one of the officers. He led them to a waiting area filled with people, among them Fiamma, who rose, her eyes full of concern.

“How nice of you to wait.” Julia crossed to her, happily surprised, but Fiamma’s manner seemed tentative, after the Boboli.

“Of course. How did it go?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“I thought we might talk, but you’re probably too exhausted tonight. You’ve been through an ordeal.”

“No, I’m fine.” Julia was dying to talk to her. “Let’s talk. This officer is going to take us home.”

“Okay, where are you staying?”

Oh no. Julia realized that she had no idea if Fiamma knew Rossi had passed. “Uh, I’m sorry to tell you, but your mother—”

“I know she’s dead,” Fiamma said matter-of-factly.

Okay. “Well, I’m staying at the villa you grew up in.”

Fiamma hesitated. “I’ll meet you there.”

Julia climbed into the back of the police cruiser next to Courtney, but before they left Florence, she called the hospital to check on Gianluca. His condition hadn’t changed, but that didn’t come as any relief.

The cruiser took off, gliding through the dark night with two cops in the front seat. A faint greenish glow emanated from their laptop, and a perforated barrier divided the front from the back seat, which were bucket seats of hard black plastic. The air smelled like stale cigarettes.

Julia turned to Courtney, since it was the first time they’d gotten to speak, just the two of them. “Court, I can’t thank you enough for what you did.”

“Please, I love you, I’m so happy you’re okay. How are you, honey?” Courtney eyed her with sympathy, in the lights from passing traffic.

“I’m okay.” Julia was trying to get calm. “I’m glad it’s over.”

“I bet, that must have been so scary in the garden.”

Julia shuddered. “It was, but I’m glad they’re going to put those guys away. I want them locked up for good.”

“They will. I liked Vernio. I have confidence in him.” Courtney hesitated. “Are you really okay with me leaving tomorrow? I could squeeze in another day.”

“I’m fine. Go home, you’ve been amazing.”

“Girl, you have. Give yourself some credit, okay? I heard you tell the whole story to Vernio. You stayed alive until we got there. You stayed away from two killers, not just one. You kicked Hoodie’s ass, and you saved yourself from a bad guy with a steak knife.”

“Like you said, we served bad guys.” Julia smiled. “Thanks for calling the police so fast.”

“I didn’t,” Courtney shot back. “Fiamma did. She didn’t know why you ran away from her at the gallery, but she didn’t hesitate. She said you told her to call the cops and she took over.”

“What happened?” Julia asked, surprised. “You used Find My Phone, right?”

“Yes, I found you on the app, but she was already on her phone with the cops. She kept them on the whole time we were running and told them exactly where you were.” Courtney nodded, excited.

“She got the cops superfast because she knew who to call and spoke Italian. If it weren’t for her, I don’t know when they would’ve gotten to you.

I don’t know what would’ve happened.” Courtney shook her head, wide-eyed.

“Fiamma was so worried about you. She wanted to run into the garden herself. The police had to hold her back.”

Aw. “You think she really cares?”

“Of course she cares.”

“It’s probably because she feels guilty.”

“Don’t be that way. Anyway, so what if she feels guilty? It doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.” Courtney frowned, sympathetic. “Listen, you guys have a lot to talk about. When we get home, I’ll go upstairs. I have to pack anyway.”

“No, don’t, you can hang with us.” Julia couldn’t imagine being alone with Fiamma, even though it was a meeting she’d waited so long for.

“You’re just worried, but don’t be. You’ll do fine. Just talk to her, tell her what you feel.”

Julia’s chest went tight. “It’s not that easy.”

“Sure it is, she wants to talk to you.”

“But I don’t know what she knows. Like, does she even know about the inheritance?”

“I have no idea. We didn’t get to talk. It all happened so fast.”

Julia was about to talk it over but the police radio burst abruptly into loud static and the cops started talking, making conversation impossible.

Courtney took her hand and held it, all the way home.

Julia smiled, realizing that best friends didn’t always need words.