The Dante Conspiracy by Tom Kasey Page B

least two of them,’ Bruno whispered.
    ‘Police?’
    ‘Definitely not. They’d have knocked
on the door or maybe kicked it open and then shouted their way up the stairs. Maybe
we’re not the only ones looking for this thing.’
    Bruno glanced round. It wasn’t completely dark on the landing,
thin shafts of moonlight serving to cast a dim glow at one end. It was too late
to risk moving very far, because of the danger of being heard on the creaking floorboards
as the unidentified intruders approached. And he was keenly aware that if the men
below had also entered through the kitchen, they would certainly have seen the damage
to the courtyard door and would probably be expecting to find somebody already in
the house.
    He gestured to a large wooden chest which stood at one end of
the landing, and pointed at Arrigo, who turned, nodded, and then moved quietly across
and ducked down behind it. Bruno looked around, but there was no other cover he
could use. He would have to get inside one of the bedrooms, which wasn’t ideal,
because he would then be trapped inside the room with no other way out, but there
was no other choice. If he tried climbing the stairs to the next level of the old
house, he was quite sure that they’d hear him.
    On the other hand, if the men downstairs knew they were already
inside the property, what did it matter?
    Bruno made an instant decision, and ran up the dozen or so stairs
which led to the third floor of the house, making no attempt to be quiet.
    It was almost the last thing he ever did. As he reached the landing
directly above, he heard two distinct thudding sounds from below, and wood splinters
whipped past his face. Whoever the intruders were, they were armed with silenced
pistols and were obviously quite happy to shoot first and ask questions later. In
the dim moonlight, he could clearly see the bullet hole which had clipped the edge
of one of the wooden staircase treads.
    While he’d been climbing the staircase, they’d known exactly
where he was, which is why they’d risked firing the two shots. But that situation
no longer applied. Now Bruno had the advantage of the high ground, and the intruders
were going to have to climb up the stairs to get to him.
    And they wouldn’t know where his partner was. In fact, they very
probably didn’t know they were facing more than one man. With any luck, he and Arrigo
could cut them down in the crossfire.
    Bruno gave a theatrical groan, and deliberately slumped down
on the wooden boards of the upper landing, trying to give the impression that at
least one of the two bullets had found its mark. Then he stood up and moved over
to one side, to a position which offered him a reasonable view down to the first
landing. That was where the two intruders would have to appear at some point, and
once they did, he had no doubt at all of the outcome.

 

 

 
    Chapter 17

 
    Inspector Silvio Perini glanced at his watch in resignation.
For some reason, sleep had eluded him that night, and about an hour earlier he’d
abandoned all attempts to doze off and walked down to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. That, he knew, would make sleep even
less likely, but he’d decided he would be more usefully employed trying to work
out the hidden meaning in the alleged new ‘Dante’ verses than just lying in bed
and pointlessly tossing and turning all night.
    His wife had protested sleepily as he’d got up, but he knew she
would drop off again quickly: she was well used to his disturbed nights and erratic
working hours.
    He read through the text of Bertorelli’s article twice, and then
turned his attention to the verses themselves. The only bit that seemed obvious
to him – or at least obvious now that Cesare Lombardi had put the idea of the Trojan
horse into his mind – was that the relic had been sent to Florence either disguised
as something else or, perhaps more probably, concealed inside another object. But
he still had no real idea what the