The Florentine Cypher: Kate Benedict Paranormal Mystery #3 (The Kate Benedict Series) Read Online Free Page A

to ignore them when I saw them over people I didn’t know, on trains, in shops, on the street. I’d learned early on there was no sensible way to walk up to a stranger and tell them I knew they would die soon.
    But when that creepy moving air appeared over friends and family, as it had done on several occasions, I had no choice but to get involved. I’d been successful in diverting catastrophe a few times, but not always. People close to me had died.
    “Miss Benedict?” The duty officer beckoned. “Follow me.”
    He showed me into an office decorated in shades of tan and beige. A man in a brown suit and taupe tie motioned me to sit down. I sat in a straight-backed chair on the other side of his cluttered laminate desk.
    “Sorry for the delay,” he said. “I’m Detective Lake.”
    He was a compact man with unremarkable features apart from his eyes, which were large, brown and round. They reminded me of a cow’s, although his were distinctly more alert and intelligent.
    “So you want to make a missing person report?” he asked, glancing at the form the duty officer had given him.
    “Yes, my friend is missing, and someone broke into his flat.”
    “I see.” He wrote something on the form and then looked up at me. “Do you want a coffee or something?”
    “No,” I began. Then I nodded. I guessed that he’d like a coffee and I needed his help. I’d be as cooperative as possible.
    “Hey, Cooper,” Lake called out. “Let’s get two coffees, please.”
    While he waited for the drinks, Lake wrote a few more lines with a cheap ballpoint pen, the tip scratching against the paper. It only took a few minutes for Cooper, the duty officer, to bring two mugs to the desk.
    “You’ll like it,” Lake told me. “The chaps here bought me a new-fangled coffee machine for my retirement a year ago. One of those single-serve things that makes tea as well. After one week at home with the missus, I was bored to death and came back to work. Brought the machine with me. Now everyone here’s my best friend.”
    I sipped the coffee. It was good.
    “All right.” Lake leaned forward over the desk. “Your friend has been missing since when?”
    “Early this evening. About three hours,” I said. “I know that’s not long, but I’m quite sure he’s in trouble.”
    “And why do you think that?”
    I told Lake about Ethan’s empty office with the lights still on, the open window, his briefcase on the credenza and the text message telling me to retrieve a book from his safe.
    “I found the book and took it to the restaurant. I waited there for nearly an hour and he never turned up,” I finished. “Here.” I picked up my bag, took out the book and laid it on the desk. Lake glanced at it but didn’t comment.
    “You had a reservation at this restaurant?” he asked.
    “Yes. We often go there for dinner.”
    “You two are dating?”
    “No, we’re just friends. I have a boyfriend, but he’s traveling right now.”
    Lake lifted an eyebrow a couple of millimeters. “And how long have you known Dr. Hamilton?”
    “Years. Ever since primary school. He and my brother were— still are— friends.”
    “I see. And Dr. Hamilton works at…” He glanced at the form again. “The Adams Institute?”
    “Yes,” I confirmed. “He’s been with the Institute for about a year. He’s a political scientist and he focuses on global economic indicators or something like that.” I looked at the volume lying on the desk. This was no modern textbook. It looked ancient, its leather cover worn at the edges. I touched the soft hide, which felt like velvet. My fingers itched to open it, to see what was inside.
    “That was the book you found in his safe?” Lake asked. “What is it?”
    I turned the book so he could see the title. “Della Pittura,” he read out loud.
    “It means ‘About Painting,’ I think. But I don’t know why it was in Ethan’s safe. He’s not that interested in art, as far as I know.”
    Lake pulled a pad