Midnight Angels by Lorenzo Carcaterra Read Free Book Online Page B

now. They need to capture us—me, really, not you.”
    “Why you?”
    “They don’t know for sure you were with me when I made the discovery,” Kate said. “And they might think I didn’t trust you enough to tell you where I hid it.”
    “They have no proof to think that way,” Marco said.
    “They have no proof not to think that way,” Kate said. “And since you let it slip to your friends that something was found, but failed to tell them what it was and where it is, only gives them more reason to believe I hold the key.”
    “We can’t just keep running from one end of the city to the next,” he said. “Sooner or later, we’ll be caught.”
    Kate looked at him and smiled. “You’re right,” she said. “I shouldhave thought of it from the start. I was so excited that we actually found something, I probably wasn’t thinking straight. But that’s the answer.”
    “The answer to what?” Marco asked.
    “We let them catch us,” Kate said. “Then we’ll know who we’re up against.”
    “That’s not a good idea at all,” he said, a touch of panic seeping into his voice. “It’s one of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard.”
    “You said it yourself,” Kate said. “We can’t just keep running.”
    “It sounds too dangerous,” he said. “We only think we know what they’re after. What if we’re wrong? What if they’re chasing us for reasons that have nothing to do with what we found in the corridor?”
    “Like what?”
    “How should I know?” Marco said. “Two weeks ago I was biking through the city looking for good buys on used art history books. My only worries had to do with maybe finding a part-time job so I would have some coffee money during the school year.”
    “I have coffee money,” Kate said, stepping out into the street. “And there’s a bar just around the corner. Should be open in a few minutes.”
    Marco thought about this for a moment. “Can I get a pastry to go with the coffee?”
    “We both will,” she said.
    He nodded and moved from the front of the building to stand next to her. “Is what we’re doing worth it?”
    “The coffee’s the best in the neighborhood, and their pastries are better than anything I’ve ever had,” she said.
    “Is it worth it?” he asked. “Is it worth risking our lives for a work that’s been hidden for centuries?”
    “For you, I would say no, it’s not even close to being worth it,” Kate said.
    “And it’s different for you?”
    “Yes,” she said, “and please don’t ask me to explain why, because I haven’t even come close to putting it all together. I just know this is not only what I need to do, it’s what I have to do.”
    “Even if there’s a chance it might get you killed?” Marco asked.
    “Yes,” she said, “even then.”
    She squeezed her arm under the fold of his and together they walked toward the coffee bar, the late afternoon shadows of Casa Buonarroti at their back.

CHAPTER
7
    K ATE HAD HEARD TALES OF MICHELANGELO SINCE SHE WAS OLD enough to walk. Her parents would refer to him often, both in conversation and in the stories they read to her each night—a practice continued by Professor Edwards for years after their deaths. As she grew older and began to read about him herself, she set aside questions to ask Edwards over dinner, knowing he would offer in return a series of hints and clues designed to help her discover the answer. Over time, she began to think of Michelangelo as a talented but eccentric member of her extended family, the uncle who is always talked about but never seen. She marveled at his accomplishments, stared with awe at his works, laughed at his numerous outrageous acts and statements, and always sought to unearth new and interesting details of his life in each book or article she read.
    But it was the story of the snowman that won her heart.
    Kate was twelve when Edwards told her of the rare snowstorm that blanketed the city of Florence, starting on the morning of January 20,