Free Murder in the Garden of God by Eleanor Herman

considerately prepared a coffin for his wife, which he whipped out after the job was done. He flung the body inside, threw the lid on it, and tossed the coffin upside down in a cart which took it to a church in Florence. There, in the ultimate insult to the vain Isabella, the dreadful cadaver was exposed to the curious who wanted to see what a woman looked like who had died while washing her hair. Even worse, they were permitted to touch the corpse and lift the skirts.
    According to Cortile, “It is said that there was never seen a more ugly monster. Her head was swollen beyond measure, the lips thickened and black like two sausages, the eyes open and bulging like two wounds, the breasts swollen and one completely split, it is said because of the weight of Lord Paolo who threw himself on her to kill her as quickly as possible. And the stench was so great that no one could go close.” Sheer morbid fascination, however, propelled people to go close, holding their noses.
    Because her body had been thrown upside down in the cart, the blood had rushed to her upper half. Cortile continued, “She was black from the middle up and completely white below, according to what Niccolo of Ferrara told me, who lifted the covers, as others had done to see her. She was buried the following night in San Lorenzo.” 11 Then Paolo Giordano, who bought anything and everything he wanted despite his debts, regretfully announced he couldn’t afford a proper tomb for her.
    Adulterous strangled women disappeared from family records. Portraits that had proudly displayed their names had those names painted over and were sold as anonymous subjects in the flea markets. Family members weren’t supposed to mention their dead dishonored relatives. And so Isabella, the fairest star of the de Medicis, disappeared. Her lover, the gallant Troilo, was assassinated soon after by the same assassin Paolo Giordano has used to kill Isabella.
    Little Virginio Orsini was four years old when his father killed his mother. After the murder, Paolo Giordano allowed his children to continue residing in Florence at the court of their uncle, Grand Duke Francesco. He rarely visited and had to be badgered to send them money. “It has been said that Signor Paolo does not want them,” the ambassador of Ferrara reported, “claiming that they are not his children.” 12 The grand duke fumed “about their father’s irreparable shamelessness.” 13
    A perennial fixture in the stews of Rome, for over four years the Orsini duke had no inclination to remarry. His first marriage hadn’t gone so well, after all, and he must have enjoyed his freedom. When the de Medicis offered to arrange his marriage to one of several illustrious noblewomen with large dowries in tow, he turned them all down. The main reason for his single state seems to have been that he hadn’t met a woman who had captured his heart. Until he saw Vittoria.
    The elite of any cosmopolitan city is always limited in number. Rome had its great ancient families – the Orsinis, Colonnas, Savellis, and others – who had been at the pinnacle of society for centuries. These in-bred clans were periodically rejuvenated by marrying into the new families of cardinals and popes. Whenever Rome had a papal event, a noble ball, or a grand feast, it was the same two or three hundred individuals who attended. Paolo Giordano, the most powerful Roman baron, and Vittoria Accoramboni, the niece of a cardinal with papal aspirations, must have come in contact at various festivities. Moreover, one of the duke’s palaces was on the Piazza Navona, and its rear entrance faced Camilla Peretti’s corner house on the Via Leutari. Perhaps the duke and Vittoria had spotted each other in the street.
    Paolo Giordano had always been captivated by female beauty – except, of course, by that of his wife. He must have been entranced by Vittoria. We can assume he flattered her, and she flirted with him, and, given the fact that she was married to