A Brood of Vipers

stains could be found on you. And how could poor short-sighted Enrico have fired the fatal shot?'
    I rose and collected the sling from the centre of the table, pulling back the thick leather cord.
    'But, of course, no gun was used, was it? A small musket ball was placed in this and, from the shadows of that alleyway, you shot it, clear and true.' I pulled back the leather thong to let it go. ‘I am not skilled in these things. But a sling may be more accurate than a gun, and a slingshot may have as devastating an effect as a ball from a gun. Isn't that how David killed Goliath? And don't the shepherd boys in Tuscany drive away wolves, even kill them, with their slings? And weren't you, Master Enrico, for a while, protected by shepherds?'
    Enrico laughed softly. 'But the report that was heard when Francesco died? And what of Preneste? And poor Matteo?'
    I fished in my wallet and brought out the fire-cracker that Benjamin had given me.
    'Florentines love fire-crackers,' I said. 'We saw some children using them in a taverna garden.'
    I leaned over, pushed the fuse of the fire-cracker into the. candle flame and dropped it to the floor. For a few seconds it spluttered, then it exploded with a bang that echoed through the refectory.
    'You used one of these,' I said, 'in that narrow alleyway off Cheapside. Lord Francesco is walking slowly along the stalls. He looks back over his shoulder to where his daughter is stopping. He calls to you. You light the fire-cracker, and it explodes. Lord Francesco looks up and you loose your sling-shot. On board ship it was even easier. The fire-cracker explodes, poor Matteo, near the rails, is knocked into the sea. In the garden of the Villa Albrizzi all eyes are on Preneste and his silly mummery. God knows whether he would have named you, but you could take no chances.'
    I played with my cup. 'The garden was dark, everyone was watching Preneste. You would take the fire-cracker, perhaps light it from one of the torches, then throw it. To place a shot in your sling would have taken no more than a few seconds. Against the torchlight, Preneste was an excellent target. The timing would be right. The fire-cracker splutters very quietly whilst you load and take aim, and explodes, leaving little trace, when you fire.'
    'Do you know, Shallot,' the wicked bastard purred, 'we all thought you were stupid, with your gauche ways and funny eyes.' He chewed the corner of his lip. 'But you're not, are you? You would make a good Florentine with your sharp brain and keen nose for mischief.' He sighed. 'But not a good lawyer. What proof do you have?'
    'Oh, we have some,' I replied. 'We have the motive -revenge against the Albrizzis. We have your undoubted skill with the sling. We have the fact that you are the only survivor.'
    He shrugged. 'I was fortunate. All the servants saw me leave the villa. I came back unexpectedly and had to kill Giovanni the assassin.'
    'But will your master believe that?' I taunted. 'His Eminence the Cardinal Giulio de Medici, will he support you?'
    Do you know, it was the only time I saw a flicker of worry cross that evil young man's face.
    'Why the cardinal?' he said hoarsely. But the tone of his voice betrayed him.
    'Because it was he who told you how your father died. It was he who arranged the journey to England. It was he who told you about the emerald and, of course, about Matteo and Preneste.' I tapped the table top. 'Those two were the personal retainers of Lord Francesco, and perhaps astute enough to discover the truth.' I sipped from the goblet. 'You undoubtedly saw Matteo try and speak to us on board ship, so he had to be killed. Preneste posed other dangers. He was murdered and then his chamber burnt. We thought it was because of certain paltry papers, but in fact you just wanted to make sure he hadn't committed any of his suspicions to paper.'
    Enrico clapped his hands softly. 'You are dangerous,' he said. 'I never counted on fat Henry sending two special agents to root out the murder. I didn't mean to kill you in England,' he continued casually. 'You are right, Master Shallot. I am most skilled with the sling. If I wished, I could have killed you, but I just wanted to frighten you. But frightening you is rather difficult. You proved that against the arrogant bastard Alessandro!'
    'When you should have kept your mouth shut,' I interrupted quietly. 'Because you noticed a certain stroke in that duel my master began to wonder if your eyesight was as poor as you