Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno #4)(71)

She turned the object over. “As you can see, along the collarbone of the head, we have an inscription in Latin, O Mors quam amara est memoria tua, which I would translate as O Death, how bitter is your memory. Do you recognize the quotation?”

“I don’t.”

“The quotation is from Scripture. This is the first line of Ecclesiasticus forty-one, which in the Vulgate begins, ‘O Mors quam amara est memoria tua.’”

“Interesting.” Gabriel resolved to look up the passage later.

“Similar items are on display in various museums, including the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. And the Victoria and Albert Museum in London has several excellent examples.

“In my opinion, your carving is of high quality. There are a lot of details, as you can see. Worms and toads are figured over the head. The face has an open mouth with exposed teeth, and there are folds of fabric covering the head. Leaves have been carved into the lower part of the object and it sits on a small circular pedestal. There is some damage to the piece—a crack in the head. But it is still a valuable and rare item. Certainly, one we would be proud to display.”

“Can you tell me anything about the provenance?”

Judith smiled eagerly. “Yes, this is very exciting. The object, which I believe to be a bead, has been pierced vertically, so it could be suspended from a chaplet—rosaries or prayer beads are more common terms for this. There is a maker’s mark on the bottom of the bead, which you can see.” She lifted the figure and revealed the bottom. “When I saw the mark, I realized I had seen it before. So I went through the items we have at Palazzo Pitti, but I didn’t find the same mark. However, when I went to Palazzo Medici Riccardi, I found something interesting.”

Judith placed a large photograph next to the bead. “In the Palazzo Riccardi museum, there is this chaplet that belonged to Alessandro de’ Medici, who was Duke of Florence from 1532 to 1537. Alessandro was thought to be of African heritage, which means that he was the first African head of state in the modern West. The chaplet was in his possession when he died and it eventually became part of the museum’s collection.

“However.” Judith’s blue eyes lit up with excitement. “As you can see from the photograph, the chaplet is missing a bead. In fact, it’s missing the largest bead at the end. I spoke with the archivist at the museum and he was unable to find a record of a missing bead. The chaplet came to the museum without it.

“But he pointed me to a letter written by Taddea Malaspina, Alessandro’s mistress, and she mentions the bead going missing. It was lost, until you sent it to us.”

Both Judith and Massimo smiled giddily through the screen.

“How do you know the bead I sent is the missing one?” Gabriel leaned closer to his cell phone, trying to get a better look at the photograph of the chaplet.

“The maker’s mark matches the mark on the opposite end of the chaplet. The carvings and designs on the chaplet are identical to those on your bead. There’s a repeated pattern.” Judith took her finger and moved from the bead to the photograph, carefully pointing out the similarities.

Gabriel frowned. “Wasn’t Alessandro murdered?”

“Yes,” Dottor Vitali interjected. “He was assassinated by his cousin Lorenzino. Of course, now that we know your bead matches the chaplet at Palazzo Riccardi, I’m sure the director will contact you.” Dottor Vitali smiled hopefully.

“Yes, of course.” Gabriel was distracted, still trying to process what had just been revealed. “Massimo, why was Alessandro assassinated?”

“There are several theories. In my opinion, Lorenzino assassinated his cousin for revenge.”

“Revenge?” Gabriel’s eyebrows instantly shot up.

“Lorenzino was a friend of Filippo Strozzi. Alessandro tried to assassinate Strozzi and failed. Strozzi persuaded Lorenzino to kill Alessandro in revenge. But this is my opinion. There are other explanations.”

“Did you discover anything about the more recent provenance of the object?”

“No.” Judith glanced over at Massimo. “We were hoping you could help with that.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. The bead was found on my property in Cambridge. I contacted Interpol, through a friend, but the bead wasn’t listed in their database of stolen artwork.”

Dottor Vitali tapped his fingers on the table in front of him. “We can make discreet inquiries.”

“I’d appreciate that, my friend. Since I’m not sure who the rightful owner is, I’d be grateful for any assistance in locating him or her.”

Judith appeared disappointed, but she didn’t comment.

“Certainly, we can help.” Massimo’s tone was reassuring.

“Thank you. Judith, it was a pleasure meeting you. Thank you for your research. I’m very grateful.”

Judith inclined her head respectfully. “Thank you, Professor Emerson. It’s a wonderful piece and I hope, if I may, that the piece can be reunited with the chaplet someday.”

“Give my best to Julianne.” Massimo artfully redirected the conversation.

“I will. Speak to you again soon. Good-bye.” Gabriel signed off FaceTime quickly.

He pulled out his laptop, entered his password, and quickly pulled up an online edition of the Latin Vulgate. He scrolled through the book of Ecclesiasticus, commonly known as the book of Sirach, and found the verse from which the inscription on the memento mori had been taken.