Venetian Vendetta: The Tremayne Mysteries Series

by Merryn Allingham

  ‘What do you think?’ Leo smiled across at her.

  ‘It’s the strangest bookshop I’ve ever visited. All these boats. I can’t believe how many.’

  ‘Whimsical but wonderful, don’t you think?’

  ‘Buongiorno signore.’ The proprietor had come forward and was pumping Leo’s hand enthusiastically, but when her husband handed him a slip of paper and he read the title Leo sought, he gave a sad shake of his head.

  ‘No, sorry. Not this one. But I have many other books that will interest you. Please, come with me and take a look.’

  He shepherded Leo through an archway to yet another room, with Archie following. Nancy stayed where she was. Botany held little interest for her, and she felt restless and unsettled. She had since the moment she’d woken. In part it was Archie’s presence this morning, but not that alone. There was something else, something more serious bothering her. Ever since she’d known of the forgeries, she had been worried for Angelica’s safety. The fear had always been there in the shadows, but now it was darker and more urgent.

  Last night after Leo had fallen into a deep sleep, she had lain awake for hours, going over in her head what Dino might do. He would know of the break-in at the boathouse, and know that Archie was the intruder—Salvatore would have been definite on that—but since that night there had been no repercussions. Perhaps Archie’s exploit had seemed a foolish joke to Dino. Perhaps he presumed there was no evidence to condemn him and felt safe from discovery. He wouldn’t know that a scrap of canvas had been left behind and that someone with a knowledge of art had seen it. Nor that it had led to Renzo and exposure.

  But at the very least, he must be puzzled. A foolish joke maybe, but why had Archie broken in? And what was Nancy Tremayne doing by Archie’s side at the casinò? If Dino were asking himself these questions, it was possible he might sense the net closing in. That would make him more dangerous; he would be looking for anyone who could possibly unmask him. Marta was no longer a threat, nor Luca. But Angelica?

  It had always worried Nancy that Angelica might face trouble. At first she had thought the danger might come from Mario or Luca—it was why she had braved the Moretto palazzo days ago, trying and failing to warn the woman. But now Dino was the cause of her anxiety. How much did Angelica actually know? Was Dino or his henchman watching the Moretto house? Perhaps it was one of them who had followed Nancy on the visit she’d made there.

  ‘No luck.’ Leo ducked his head as he came back into the room. ‘Some lovely books but none of them quite what I’m looking for. However—I hope you don’t mind, Nancy—the owner has suggested another bookshop. In Dorsoduro, just beyond Ca’Rezzonico. It specialises in life sciences, particularly plant science. I thought perhaps we could call in?’

  Her husband must have seen the disappointment on her face because he said quickly, ‘I promise that if we’re not successful there, we’ll call it a day. What do you think?’

  Another hour or more with Archie in tow was the last thing Nancy wanted. He’d been careful to keep his distance—all morning she’d felt him deliberately ignoring her. It was an actual physical feeling that in some way made things worse. It was clear he’d recognised the danger they had courted and stepped back sharply, but it made a normally casual relationship almost impossible. There was little, though, she could say against Leo’s plan, and she resigned herself to going along with it.

  They walked through the back lanes to the Grand Canal and took a traghetto, a gondola ferry, to the other side. It was as they disembarked that the idea came to her. They were in Dorsoduro and not a million miles from the Moretto house. Would it be possible to slip away? It was a crazy plan, but crazed was how she felt. While she was still in Venice, she couldn’t rest as long as there was something she could do to prevent another tragedy. She must speak to Angelica again—this time really speak to her—tell her honestly of her suspicions.

  The second bookshop was far more traditional, but in Nancy’s view more promising. There was more shaking of heads, however, when Leo mentioned the title he was seeking. The shop’s owner, who must have been eighty if he was a day, laid a hand on Leo’s arm to detain him, then darted behind the counter and brought out two large volumes which he hefted onto a battered desk.

  Leo stopped and walked back, picking up the first book the proprietor had offered, and beginning a quick flick through. ‘I think we might be lucky with this,’ he said to nobody in particular.

  Nancy started to wander slowly around the shelves, only vaguely listening to the men’s conversation. ‘You see how very skilled the drawings,’ the old man was saying. ‘The volume was only published this month. It will be very popular with our customers, I know.’

  ‘The drawings are beautiful,’ Leo replied. The sound of turning pages came to her. ‘But the book doesn’t appear to be as comprehensive as I had hoped.’

  ‘This one then?’ The proprietor pointed to the second volume. ‘This book covers the wild flowers of the world, but the illustrations are…’

  ‘Prosaic? What do you think, Archie?’ Leo turned to his assistant and Archie dutifully took up the book for a closer look.

  Suddenly, Nancy had to get out of the shop. She could not bear to wander in this aimless fashion another minute. She had to take action. If she turned right out of the bookshop, she would reach the Zattere. And along the Zattere was the calle dei Morti. Hardly realising what she was doing, she broke into a run. She had no idea what she would find at the Moretto palazzo; all she knew was that she had to get there. She had to try to see Angelica.

  Last night she had wondered if someone might be watching the house, but why would Dino set a watch? If Angelica had information on him and wanted to use it, she could as easily telephone the police from home and he would be none the wiser. Yet there were still those footsteps to account for, that frightening chase Nancy had endured. If not Dino or one of his minions, who had that been?

  Halfway along the Zattere she had to drop the run for a swift walk. There was a stitch in her side and her breathing was shallow, but she reached the calle dei Morti quicker than she’d believed possible. She had no clear plan in mind, only that she must warn Angelica. If the woman knew nothing of Dino’s activities, had not even suspected, she would think Nancy unhinged. But what did that matter?

  Hopefully the encounter would take only minutes and she could return to the bookshop before her absence was noticed. If Leo finished his purchase more quickly than expected, she would claim she’d found the shop too stuffy and gone for a stroll beside the lagoon. He would think it odd behaviour, but she was sure she could carry it off.

  Nancy slowed her steps as she approached the house and stood for a few seconds at the front gate trying to gather her skittering mind. Then she raised her hand to the bell pull. But as she did so, another hand—a large, male hand—came crashing down on hers and twisted her arm behind her back. Her yell of pain was cut short when a second hand clasped her mouth so hard she was barely able to breathe.

  A voice she did not recognise growled in her ear. It was guttural, unnatural. ‘Why are you here?’ The hand across her mouth did not move and it was evident her attacker expected no answer. The voice ground on. ‘You spy, and you must be stopped. For good.’

  Nancy struggled against the iron grip, but the hands only tightened further. ‘Move!’ the voice commanded. ‘Now!’

  The old fears rose in all their fury and her mind fractured. She was overwhelmed with terror, its tentacles spreading through every part of her body and paralysing her. Who was this man threatening her? Could it be… no, surely not? Not Philip March. He could not have traced her here from London.

  A knee was thrust into her back and she swayed forward, almost falling to her knees. Her captor jerked her upright and pushed hard again. This time she stumbled a few paces and found herself on the other side of the street, close to where the remains of the shattered house lay buried. The fencing was still there—she could just see it if she raised her head a little—but p
art of it had been trampled down and the deep pit now lay open and perilous. With fearful certainty she realised what this man intended. He would push her over the edge and she would plunge to her death. But at whose hands? She would not even know her murderer.

  Then, in an instant, his hold slackened. Nancy heard a sharp crack, as though a head had been thrust hard against stone. The hands that had imprisoned her disappeared and she tumbled to the ground. When she had recovered sufficiently to look, she twisted her head and saw Archie. He had pinned the arms of her attacker behind the man’s back and forced him to his knees.

  Nancy got slowly to her feet and walked towards them. Then trying for a calm she didn’t feel, she peered into the man’s lowered face. Mario Bozzato!

  ‘You,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here? And why attack me so brutally?’ She rubbed her sore arms attempting to get the blood to flow again.

  ‘You are a spy,’ the man spat out. She noticed the guttural voice had gone.

  ‘And you are mad. I’m no spy. What would I be spying on?’

  ‘Save your breath,’ Archie advised. ‘The man’s a complete nutter.’

  ‘You tell Angelica lies. You turn her against me,’ Mario gasped, as Archie twisted his arms into an even more painful position.

  ‘That is ludicrous. I’ve seen Signorina Moretto once and we spoke only of her mother.’

  ‘I told you, the bloke’s a nutter. You won’t get any sense out of him.’ Archie had Bozzato in a fearsome lock from which there was no escape. Mario was a man daily engaged in physical work, but Archie was an ex-soldier and it was no contest.

  ‘Did you follow Mrs Tremayne a few days ago?’ Archie asked, giving his victim a kick to help his memory.

  ‘She is a spy,’ Mario gasped out.

  ‘Did you follow her?’ Archie repeated, administering another swift kick.

  ‘Yes,’ came the surly reply.

  Nancy looked down at her attacker, bewildered and angry. ‘You followed me and scared me half to death?’

  ‘You are a wicked woman.’ Bozzato had got his breath back now and raised his head defiantly. ‘Angelica left the convent for me. She chose me, not the church. We were to marry—until you came. Then she turned against me.’

  ‘Angelica left the convent for her mother’s sake,’ Nancy said. ‘The signora was unwell.’

  ‘It is because of you that Angelica does not speak to me,’ he continued doggedly.

  ‘It has nothing to do with me,’ Nancy retorted, doubting that anyone could influence that young woman against her wishes. ‘And if you had the smallest grain of sense, you would know that. You have to accept that if the signorina won’t speak to you, Mario, it is because she has decided you are no longer part of her life.’

  ‘And why would you be?’ Archie put in. ‘Get off your knees and apologise to this lady for the coward you are. For the threats you’ve made and for hurting her.’

  When Mario made no move to respond, Archie tightened his grip. ‘Do it!’

  Bozzato staggered to his feet and mumbled an apology through clenched teeth. ‘Get going now,’ Archie instructed, ‘but keep away from Mrs Tremayne—and this house. Or you’ll fare even worse.’

  He pushed Mario to one side and gestured to Nancy to walk back along the calle. ‘What the hell were you thinking?’ he muttered, once they had reached the Zattere. ‘Sloping off like that.’

  ‘He was going to push me into that pit,’ she gulped. The realisation of how narrowly she’d escaped had begun to bite.

  ‘He’s mad. You know that. You should keep away from him.’

  Nancy looked incredulous. ‘Are you saying it was my fault?’

  ‘I’m saying we need to hurry. So forget the pit and let’s get moving.’

  ‘Why should I?’ She couldn’t stop herself sounding petulant. She was angry that Archie seemed happy to dismiss the danger she’d faced as insignificant.

  He looked exasperated. ‘I would have thought that was obvious—you disappeared from the shop without a word. Once Leo had bought his damn book, he went to find you. We waited around like a couple of lost lemons, hoping you’d turn up. Then he started getting agitated, thinking you were having a funny turn.’

  ‘A funny turn?’ she echoed.

  ‘He’s worried you’re still affected by what happened in London. He thinks you going off half-cock is part of it.’

  ‘Where is Leo now?’ she asked abruptly, hating that her husband had shared such personal worries.

  ’As far as I know, still pacing up and down outside the bookshop. You need to hurry or he’ll be calling in divers to search every canal in the city.’

  Nancy picked up her pace accordingly, though she still felt wobbly from Bozzato’s attack. And frustrated, too. She hadn’t accomplished what she’d set out to, but had managed to ruin for Leo one of their last days together in Venice. He would not be pleased.

  ‘How did you find me?’ she blurted out. She hadn’t thought of it before, but now Archie’s appearance when she most needed help appeared nothing short of a miracle.

  ‘It wasn’t too difficult. You’ve got the Morettos on the brain. And you’ve been particularly twitchy this morning.’ How did he know that, she wondered? He’d been steadfast in ignoring her. ‘And the Moretto house is only a short distance from the bookshop.’

  ‘Will you mention it—that you found me outside the house?’

  ‘Not unless you do.’

  They were barely in sight of the bookshop again when Leo came into view, fairly dancing along the street towards them.

  ‘Nancy! Thank God! Where did you find her, Archie?’

  ‘I was taking a walk by the lagoon,’ she managed to say before Archie was forced to answer. ‘The weather is so beautiful and I wanted to enjoy it before we go back to grey skies.’

  ‘But why didn’t you tell me you were going for a walk?’

  ‘You were busy, Leo, choosing the right book. And I didn’t want to disturb you.’

  ‘But to wander off like that,’ he murmured, ‘and for all this time. My darling, are you truly all right?’

  Before she could answer, he had decided for himself. ‘We have a busy few days ahead once we’re back in London, so we should make tomorrow as quiet as possible—a gentle walk, or a drive in the country perhaps? Right now, though, we should go home. You need a rest.’

  ‘I’d love to drive out tomorrow and see something of the countryside.’ She said it with enthusiasm, hoping to mollify him.

  ‘And I’d love to take you.’ A guilty expression suffused his face. ‘I know I suggested it, Nancy, but I can’t be with you. I have this meeting with Signor Trevi.’

  She had forgotten that Leo had a business engagement the next day and tried to row back. She had an uncomfortable premonition where this conversation might lead.

  ‘Never mind,’ she said brightly, ‘I’ll take a chair out into the palazzo garden. There’s plenty of shade and the fresh air will do me good. And it will be as restful as you could wish.’

  ‘No. No, we can do better than that.’ The idea of an excursion seemed to have lodged itself in Leo’s brain. ‘I’ll hire a car—I’ll ring when we get back—and Archie can drive you. All right with you, Archie?’

  Archie nodded, a blank expression on his face.

  ‘You don’t need to be gone for long,’ Leo continued, ‘but a few hours in the countryside will be perfect. The Veneto looks particularly beautiful at this time of the year. I only wish I could come.’

  So did Nancy, since now she would be spending another morning in Archie’s company, this time locked in close proximity.

  ‘That’s a wonderful idea,’ she tried to enthuse. ‘How kind of you to arrange it, Leo.’

  A few paces away she sensed Archie glowering.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Halfway through the afternoon Leo put his head around the bedroom door. ‘How are you feeling now?’

  Nancy laid aside the exhibition catalogue she’d been reading and put on he
r best smile.

  ‘Fine. Absolutely fine.’ She’d spent several hours taking the rest that Leo had prescribed, trying hard to distract a mind that was busier than ever.

  ‘You had me worried, you know.’ He walked over to her and sat down on the bed.

  ‘I’m sorry, Leo. You’re not to worry. There’s really no need.’

  ‘But to go walking off like that…’

  ‘It’s as I said, I was enticed by the sun and the water—and lost track of time. I didn’t realise how far I’d walked.’

  He nodded, seeming this time to accept the explanation, and laid down beside her.

  ‘You mean so much to me, Nancy,’ he said, cradling her in his arms. ‘I know how badly you’ve been hurt and I know how difficult it’s been for you to lose the fear.’ She said nothing and he went on, ‘It can’t help that the rotter who put you through so much is still free and walking the streets of London.’

  Nancy nestled in the crook of his arm. ‘There’s nothing we can do about Philip. He’s far too clever to have incriminated himself. You have to forget him—I have.’

  Leo rubbed his face against hers, then kissed her gently on the cheek. ‘Why don’t I believe you?’

  ‘You must,’ she insisted. ‘It’s true.’ Only a white lie, she told herself, to save her husband further worry.

  ‘So what have you been reading?’ He loosened his embrace and picked up the catalogue she’d put to one side. ‘Stanley Spencer at the Tate. It sounds interesting. You must go, once we get back from Cornwall.’

  ‘I thought I would… Leo…’ She decided to take the plunge. ‘When we’re back in London again, what am I to do?’