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CHAPTER FOUR

I Meet Rainaldi

On my journey back to Florence, I thought of only one thing. I had to speak to Signor Rainaldi. He must know more about Ambrose’s death.

The servant at the villa had given me Signor Rainaldi’s address. I found the house at last, in a quiet, dark street. Signor Rainaldi was at home and a servant took me to his room.

Rainaldi looked surprised when he saw me. He was a thin man, about forty years old, with a proud, hard face.

‘My name is Ashley - Philip Ashley,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ Signor Rainaldi answered. ‘Will you sit down? You are Ambrose Ashley’s cousin - and his heir. You look very like him. I did not expect to see you here. When did you arrive in Florence?’

‘This afternoon,’ I replied. ‘I have been to the Villa Sangalletti.’

Signor Rainaldi smiled. ‘Then you have not seen your cousin Rachel,’ he said. ‘She left Florence very suddenly. Your cousin’s death was a great shock to her.’

‘It was a shock to me, too, Signor Rainaldi,’ I said. ‘Why wasn’t I told about Ambrose’s illness?’

‘Mrs Ashley always hoped he would get well,’ Rainaldi answered. ‘She did not want to worry you.’

‘But I had these letters,’ I said. ‘That is why I came to Florence.’ And I handed Rainaldi the last two letters from Ambrose. When he had read them Signor Rainaldi said slowly, ‘Yes, the doctors warned Mrs Ashley of this.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘They told her that your cousin had a tumour on his brain. That is why he wrote these letters. First the tumour destroyed his brain and then it killed him.’

I shook my head. I could not believe it.

Rainaldi held out a paper. ‘This is a copy of the death certificate,’ he said. ‘I sent another copy of it to you in Cornwall and one to Mr Kendall. As your guardian, he had to be told about Ambrose’s death.’

‘Mr Kendall is my guardian?’ I asked in surprise. ‘Ambrose never told me that.’

‘It is in your cousin’s will,’ Rainaldi replied. ‘Mr Kendall will explain when you return home.’

‘But what about these letters?’ I cried. ‘Ambrose wrote them to warn me. He was not sick, but in great danger.’

‘Your Cousin Ambrose was sick in his mind,’ Rainaldi answered. ‘His sickness gave him strange ideas. Because Mrs Ashley was with him all the time, he suspected her. A sick man often thinks that his dearest friends are his enemies.’

‘If I had been here, Ambrose would be alive now,’ I said.

Rainaldi shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘That is not true. No one could do anything for him.’

I turned and moved towards the door.

‘When Mrs Ashley returns, tell her I know about the letters,’ I said.

‘Your cousin Rachel left Florence very suddenly,’ Rainaldi said. ‘I do not think she will come back.’

I walked out of the cold house and into the dark streets. I did not believe Rainaldi’s story. Ambrose had died in great pain and unhappiness. And my cousin Rachel had been the cause of his pain. I was sure of that.

I promised myself that one day I would bring pain and unhappiness to my cousin Rachel. I would punish this woman who had killed my dear Ambrose, far away from his home and his friends.