The Black Sun Conspiracy

Chapter Eleven

Since they had arrived in Florence, Nina had hoped that she would get a chance to visit the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo. She had never felt that she knew nearly enough about visual art, but museum visits had always made her feel calm and happy, bringing back memories of childhood and discovering the delights of history for the first time. Besides, being at liberty to wander around galleries and museums would mean that everything was resolved and she was now safe, which would have made her feel better than anything else.

Visiting under these circumstances, where the museum was simply a rendezvous point for her to collect her travel tickets from Matteus… it was not what she had hoped for. She wondered whether she would ever get the chance to visit again, or whether her days as a free woman were over and life on the run was all she would ever know.

Matteus was standing in front of Donatello’s Maddalena Penitente, a blank manila envelope in his hands, held casually behind his back. Nina walked straight up to him, greeted him in a politely formal way, accepted the envelope and walked away. Questions about her destination would not be answered until she was back downstairs, collecting her case from the cloakroom. While she waited for it to be fetched she slipped the printed tickets out and examined them. Stazione di Milano Centrale — Milan Central Station. Whether that was her destination or just a stop along the way, she did not know. All she knew was that she would be travelling by train, leaving from Santa Maria Novella that same evening.

As she stepped out of the museum into the early evening darkness, a flicker of movement caught her eye. Someone was lurking under the arches of the loggia of the adjacent building. Someone dressed in dark clothes, with a hood pulled up. The air was damp with the threat of rain, so it was possible that the hood was just a sensible precaution… but Nina could not see the person’s face, and it gave her a bad feeling. Unbidden, her mind threw up the image of the intruder who had broken in. Was the dark figure the same person? ‘Looks like the same height and build,’ Nina thought, ‘but that could just be my imagination. Just fear. Still, better safe than sorry. Time to get out of here.’

She quickly crossed the street, past the Duomo, along Via dei Cerretani towards Via Panzani. Not wanting to look round and risk letting anyone know that she thought she was being followed, she relied on reflections in darkened shop windows to tell her whether there was anyone on her tail. It was hard to be certain. There were plenty of people around, and many of them were wearing dark clothes. Without being able to stop and scrutinize, she could only go with her instinct — and her instinct was screaming at her to put it to the test, to find somewhere she could duck indoors and see whether the figure followed. Ahead of her, a middle-aged couple stepped through a lit door into a small church, apparently holding an evening service. ‘That will do,’ she thought, and followed them in.

The heavy oak door of the church closed with a muted thump behind Nina. A small congregation sat scattered throughout the pews, listening to the comforting drone of the priest. One or two turned to look at her reproachfully for missing the start of the service, so she assumed an air of contrition as she dipped her fingers in the stoup. She bowed her head, letting her hair fall forward to conceal her face and hurried as far towards the front as she dared.

She had no sooner taken her seat than she heard the door open again. A few seats away, one of the old men who had turned to look at her gave an irritated sigh, glaring first in her direction then at the newcomer. Nina forced herself to turn round, willing the new person to be someone she had never seen before, someone whose arrival at this time was entirely coincidental.

Her prayers were not answered. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she took in the long dark coat, the pulled-up hood and the trailing ponytail sitting over the shoulder. Even in the light of the church, she still could not tell whether the figure was a man or a woman. All she knew for certain was that she had not been imagining things. Whoever it was, this person was definitely following her.

She glanced around, hoping to see a side door that she could slip out of without her pursuer noticing, but there was nothing — or if there was, it was concealed behind the heavy gilt that adorned every surface. That same gilt reflected the light from the central aisle, meaning there was no chance of sneaking down the side aisles to reach the main door, and Nina felt sure that if she tried she would attract the attention of the disapproving worshippers whom she had already offended. They might not do or say anything beyond a sigh or tutting, but it would be enough to draw attention to her exit.

‘Looks like I’ll have to stay, then,’ Nina thought. ‘The service has to end at some point, and when it does I can ask the priest for help. There has to be another exit. If I can just persuade him to let me out that way, I can get myself into a taxi and be long gone by the time this person catches up.’ She glanced at her watch. 45 minutes before the train was due to leave. ‘I hope it’s not a long service…’

“Panem nostrum cotidiánum da nobis hódie, et dimítte nobis débita nostra…” Nina mumbled the words of the Lord’s Prayer along with the rest of the congregation, stumbling over the pronunciation as she dredged up the Latin words from the recesses of her memory. Shifting her wrist to reveal her watch, she stole another glimpse. Twenty minutes to the train. Fifteen minutes to the station if she walked fast. Five in a cab.

It had been years since Nina had last set foot in a church as anything other than a wedding guest. Even then, she knew very few Catholics and had not attended Mass since Religious Education had compelled her to do so. Desperately she tried to remember what still had to happen. Was the Lord’s Prayer the end? ‘No,’ she thought, ‘there’s Communion still to go. When does that happen? It’s the very last thing, isn’t it? How much is there to go before we get there?’

She did not realize that she had trailed off and stopped reciting the prayer until a sudden movement brought her back to her senses. The woman in the pew in front of her turned round to face her, and Nina jumped, expecting to be told off or threatened or perhaps just grabbed. Instead the woman stuck her hand out towards Nina and muttered something. It was not until she repeated it that Nina caught the words “Pax vobiscum.” With a sigh of relief she took the proffered hand and shook it. Her memory refused to yield the correct Latin response, so she reached for the nearest equivalent she could find. “Und mit deinem Geiste.” The woman looked a little confused, but she said nothing. Her duty done, she turned back to face the front again.

“Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem…” The congregation mumbled in unison, over and over. Nina joined in absent-mindedly, risking a glance over her shoulder in the direction of her pursuer.

To her surprise, the hooded figure was gone. The seat was empty. Nina’s heart leapt. Seeing her chance to make a break for the station, she inched her way along the hard wooden bench, getting ready to run. Just as people began getting to their feet to join the queue for Communion, she felt fingers close round her arm.

“Don’t look round,” a voice behind her instructed; the same voice she had heard the night before. “You are Dr. Gould, yes? Simply nod. I am certain that you are her, so, there’s no sense in attempting to deceive me. There is something we need to discuss, Dr. Gould. But we must not be seen together. Go and join the line. I shall be right behind you.”

Nina rose reluctantly and made her way towards the growing line. Another glance at her watch confirmed her suspicions. Time was running out. ‘I’ve got to make that train,’ she thought. ‘If I get stuck here on my own…’ She could not complete the thought. She honestly had no idea what would happen if she were stuck on Florence on her own. But she could imagine that without expert help, she would quickly find herself unable to avoid the long reach of the Order of the Black Sun.

With sudden certainty Nina spun round, ready to face her pursuer and fight her way out if she had to. But the hooded figure was not there. They were stuck behind an elderly lady who was taking her time to get to the aisle. Nina saw her chance. Calmly, carefully, she walked towards the door, slipping through the congregation as they walked in the opposite direction to her.

As she turned the heavy iron handle she saw the hooded figure looking for her among the throng seeking Communion. The obscured head turned towards her just as she slipped out of the door and into the dark street. ‘Ten minutes,’ she thought as she began to run. ‘I can do this.’

The bright lights of Via dei Panzani blurred into streaks as Nina raced along the pavement. All she could do was curse internally as she blundered into groups of pedestrians, forcing herself onward towards the monolith that was Santa Maria Novella. Through bleary eyes she scanned the departures board for Milano Centrale, then took off again at full pace towards her platform.

She hurled herself onto the train just as the door closed behind her and collapsed to her knees, gasping and wheezing. As the train gathered speed, carrying her away from Florence, Nina limped through the carriages to find the seat in which she would spend the next hour and a half speculating about their next destination.