ancement； promotion； and a happy life ahead of you。〃
〃Isaid ； we're in this together。〃
Pendergast smiled and laid a hand on his arm…a strangely affectionate gesture from a man who hardly ever showed affection。 〃I knew this would be your answer； Vincent； and I am glad。 I have e to rely on your mon sense； your steadiness； and your shooting ability； among other excellent qualities。〃
D'Agosta felt himself unaccountably embarrassed and he grunted a reply。
〃We should reach the castle by midafternoon。 I'll brief you on the way。〃
The road running south from Florence into Chianti wound through some of the prettiest country D'Agosta had ever seen： hills striped with vineyards turning yellow in fall colors； and pale gray…green olive groves； fairy…tale castles and gorgeous Renaissance villas sprinkled on hills and ridges。 Beyond loomed a range of forested mountains； dotted here or there with a grim monastery or an ancient bell tower。
The road loosely followed the ridges above the Greve River。 As they passed over the Passo dei Pecorai； the town of Greve came into view far below； lying in a low valley along the river。 As they came around another bend in the road； Pendergast pointed a finger at his side window。 〃Castel Fosco；〃 he said。
It stood on a lonely spar of rock far up in the Chiantigian hills。 From this distance； it looked to D'Agosta like a single massive tower； crenellated and time…worn； rising above the forest。 The road turned； dipped； and the castle disappeared。 A moment later Pendergast turned off the main road； and after a confusing series of turns onto ever…smaller lanes； they arrived at a mossy wall with an iron gate。 The marble plaque beside it readCastel Fosco。 The open gate was rotten and rusted； and it seemed to have settled crookedly into the very ground itself。 An ancient dirt road ran up from the gate through some vineyards； climbing a steep hillside and disappearing over the brow of the hill。
As they wound their way up the hillside； Pendergast nodded toward the terraced vineyards and groves that lined the road。 〃A rich estate； apparently； and one of the largest in Chianti。〃
D'Agosta said nothing。 Every yard they drove farther into the count's domain seemed to increase the sense of oppression that hung over him。
The road topped the ridge and the castle came into view again； much closer now： a monstrous stone keep perched on a crag far up the mountainside。 Built into one side of the keep was a later； yet still ancient； addition： a graceful Renaissance villa with a pale yellow stuccoed exterior and red…tile roofs。 Its rows of stately windows stood in strong contrast to the grim； almost brutal lines of the central keep。
The entire structure was surrounded by a double set of walls。 The outermost was almost pletely in ruins； consisting mostly of gaps of tumbled stone； broken towers； and crumbling battlements。 The inner curtain was in much better repair and acted as a kind of retaining wall to the castle itself； its enormous ramparts providing fields of level ground around the exterior。 Beyond the castle； the slopes of the mountain rose yet another thousand feet into a wild； forested amphitheater； jagged outcrops forming a serrated semicircular edge against the lowering sky。
〃Over five thousand acres；〃 said Pendergast。 〃I understand it dates back more than a millennium。〃
But D'Agosta did not reply。 The sight of the castle had chilled him more than he cared to admit。 The sense of oppression grew stronger。 It seemed insane； walking into the lion's den like this。 But he'd learned to trust Pendergast implicitly。 The man never did anything without a reason。 He'd outfoxed the sniper。 He'd saved them from death at the hands of Bullard's men。 He'd saved their lives many times before； on earlier cases。 Pendergast's plan…whatever it was…would work。
Of course it would work。
75
The car came around a final turn and passed the ruined outergate。 The castle rose above them in its stern and immense majesty。 They proceeded down an avenue of cypress trees with massive ribbed trunks and stopped at a parking area just outside the inner curtain。 D'Agosta peered at this wall through the passenger window with deep misgiving。 It towered twenty feet over his head； its great sloping buttresses streaked with lime； dripping moss and maidenhair ferns。 There was no gate in this inner wall； just a spiked and banded pair of wooden doors at the top of a broad stone staircase。
As they got out of the car； there was a humming sound； followed by a deep scraping noise； and the doors opened at an invisible cue。
They mounted the stairs； passed through a hulking doorway； and stepped into what seemed like another world。 The smooth lawn of the inner ward ran for a hundred yards to the skirt of the castle itself。 To one side of the lawn lay a large； circular reflecting pool surrounded by an ancient marble balustrade； ornamented at its center by a statue of Neptune astride a sea monster。 To the right stood a small chapel with a tiled dome。 Beyond was another marble balustrade overlooking a small garden that stepped down the hillside； ending abruptly at the fortified inner wall。
There was another scraping noise； and the ground trembled； D'Agosta turned to see the great wooden doors rumbling closed behind them。
〃Never mind；〃 murmured Pendergast。 〃Preparations have been made。〃
D'Agosta hoped to hell he knew what he was talking about。 〃Where's Fosco？〃 he asked。
〃We'll no doubt see him soon enough。〃
They crossed the lawn and approached the main entrance of the massive keep。 It opened with a creak of iron。 And there stood Fosco； dressed in an elegant dove…gray suit； longish hair brushed back； his smooth white face creased with a smile。 As always； he was wearing kid gloves。
〃My dear Pendergast； wele to my humble abode。 And Sergeant D'Agosta； as well？ Nice of you to join our little party。〃
He held out his hand。 Pendergast ignored it。
The count let the hand drop； his smile unaffected。 〃A pity。 I had hoped we could conduct our business with courtesy； like gentlemen。〃
〃Is there a gentleman here？ I should like to meet him。〃
Fosco clucked disapprovingly。 〃Is this a way to treat a man in his own home？〃
〃Is it any way to treat a man； burning him to death in his own home？〃
A look of distaste crossed Fosco's face。 〃So anxious to get to the business at hand； are we？ But there will be time； there will be time。 Do e in。〃
The count stood aside； and they walked through a long archway into the castle's great hall。 It was quite unlike what D'Agosta had expected。 A graceful loggia ran along three sides； with columns and Roman arches。
〃Note the Della Robbiatondi ；〃 said Fosco； gesturing toward some painted terra…cotta decorations set into the walls above the arches。 〃But you must be tired after the drive down。 I will take you to your quarters； where you can refresh yourselves。〃
〃Our rooms？〃 Pendergast asked。 〃Are we spending the night？〃
〃Naturally。〃
〃I'm afraid that won't be necessary； or even possible。〃
〃But I must insist。〃 The count turned and seized an iron ring on the open castle door； drawing it shut with a boom。 With a dramatic flourish； he removed a giant key from his pocket and locked it。 Then he opened a small wooden box mounted on the nearby wall。 Inside； D'Agosta saw a high…tech keypad； wildly out of place amidst the ancient masonry。 The count punched a long sequence of numbers into the keypad。 In response； there was a clank； and a massive iron bar shot down from above； sliding into a heavy iron bracket and barring the door。
〃Now we are safe from unauthorized invasion；〃 said Fosco。 〃Or； for that matter； unauthorized departure。〃
Pendergast made no answer。 The count turned and； moving in his peculiar light…footed way； led them through the hall and into a long； cold stone gallery。 Portraits； almost black with age； lined both walls； along with mounted sets of rusted armor； spears； lances； pikes； maces； and other medieval weaponry。
〃The armor is of no value； eighteenth…century reproductions。 The portraits are of my ancestors； of course。 Age has obscured them； fortunately…the counts of Fosco are not a pretty race。 We have owned the est