‘There are many things I could tell you. But if you don’t mind, can we do it after the regatta?’
Urbino was disappointed but he said that would be fine.
‘And when you’re talking to other people who knew Albina,’ Urbino said, ‘would you mind telling them about my book and encouraging them to see me? I’m not going to sell the book. I’ll give copies to all of you once it’s finished and published.’
Urbino took a sip of water.
‘If I could find some people who might have met her from the time I walked her home until the French couple found her body, it would be a big help. I had just left her with Giulietta when I bumped into you. I was with the three women, the ones who needed to get to the train station?’
‘I remember.’
‘You were going in the direction of Santa Margherita, it seemed. Did you see her?’
‘No.’
Claudio held the glass in his two hands and looked down at it.
‘Did you see anyone you know on your walk, people who also knew Albina? They might have seen her. She was going back to Da Valdo to get something she had forgotten. That’s when she had her heart attack.’
‘Poor Albina! A lot of people were walking around. Maybe some of them knew her and saw her. I don’t know about that. I went through Campo Santa Margherita, yes, but I turned away from the Canalazzo. I went to the Zattere. I like to walk there at night. I walked along it for an hour, by myself, and then came back here. I was home before the storm came. I knew it was on the way and didn’t want to be caught in it.’
Urbino nodded. He noted to himself than this was more information than he had asked for. Claudio got up and went to one of the windows and looked out.
‘Well,’ Urbino said, ‘I hope I can find someone who saw her during that time. It would be comforting, aside from whatever it might contribute to my little book.’ He finished his water and stood up. ‘By the way, about something else entirely. How well did you get to know the German man, the one who came with his Italian friend to the Liberty Salon? He was a regular in the morning for more than a year. I don’t know if you know it, but the German died recently.’
Claudio turned from the window. His expression was tight with strain but he didn’t look surprised.
‘He did? I’m sorry to hear about it, but why are you asking me about him?’
Urbino gave him the same reason as he had given to his colleague earlier, that Zoll’s stepson was in town and would appreciate knowing about his stepfather’s life in Venice. ‘I didn’t speak with them much,’ Claudio said, ‘only when they came to my station. They usually went to the Liberty Salon. You can tell his stepson that he made a good impression on all of us. They were both kind. And now they’re both dead.’
‘So you know that his friend died?’
‘Luca Benigni. I saw his death notice. I forget where. I thought of how lonely the German must be. Who died first?’
‘The German.’
Claudio’s eye drifted toward the stripped bedroom and the wall with the pieces of stone.
‘Better than the other way,’ he observed.
Urbino agreed that it was.
He found it strange that Claudio hadn’t asked him how Benigni had died, but perhaps he already knew. He might have asked someone about it when he read the death notice. Where had he seen it? Clementina Foppa lived on the Giudecca. Most likely she would have placed the notices there, possibly also at Ca’ Foscari where Luca had been a student.
As Urbino went down the dark staircase a few minutes later, he paid attention to his footing and looked out for the broken steps. On his way to the traghetto that would return him to Cannaregio, he became more convinced with almost each calle he went down and each bridge he passed over that Claudio was hiding something.
Half an hour later as Urbino was taking the traghetto back across the Grand Canal to San Marcuola, he went over what Claudio had told him.
According to Claudio, his walk the night Albina had died had taken him away from where the French couple had found her body near the Grand Canal. He had strolled down the wide promenade of the Zattere along the Giudecca Canal. It was just the kind of thing that Venetians did in the evening, especially in the summer. Urbino favored the walk himself.
It was possible that Claudio hadn’t been on the Zattere that night or had been there for only a short time, and had then gone somewhere else. He could have sought out Albina or have met her along the way.
But Urbino was at a loss to imagine what might have happened next in either case. And might Claudio have known about the envelope then? Could he have wanted to get it from Albina, not knowing that she had already left it at Florian’s? He had seemed surprised to learn that she had left something for him. But if he had wanted to get the envelope from Albina that night, wouldn’t he be eager to collect it now that he knew where it was? If so, Urbino doubted that it would be for the fifty euros that Claudio said was in the envelope. Nor could he be sure that Claudio wouldn’t take the first opportunity to go to Florian’s and collect it.
If Claudio had met Albina the night she died and it had been a friendly meeting, he would have mentioned it, wouldn’t he have? And if it hadn’t been friendly, then what might have been the reason for the conflict between them? Urbino kept coming back to the envelope, or rather its contents.
To all appearances the relationship between Claudio and Albina had been one of mutual love and respect. And Claudio seemed deeply affected by her death. It was possible, of course, that he could be both deeply affected by it and feel in some sense responsible for it.
After all, wasn’t this close to the way Urbino felt himself? Wasn’t he still reproaching himself for what he had done – and not done – when he was with her before she died?
But Claudio hadn’t been the only person Urbino had seen that night in Dorsoduro who knew Albina.
Earlier, he had met Romolo and Perla Beato on the Accademia Bridge. They had spoken for a few minutes and then they had rushed off so that Romolo could catch the vaporetto for Santa Lucia to get the Padua train. Perla had then set off in the general direction of their apartment in Dorsoduro.
But it was also the direction of the Campo Santa Margherita, near where Albina had lived and died – and the Zattere where Claudio had said he was taking a walk.
Urbino’s boat reached the San Marcuola landing. The air was cooler than it had been earlier in the day. A gentle breeze blew from the lagoon. He breathed the air deep into his lungs as he walked across the campo. When he reached the rio terrà behind the church, he stopped and took the photograph of Benigni, Zoll, and Marcello from his pocket. He studied Benigni’s face closely.
Yes, he said to himself. There was a definite resemblance to Claudio. Possibly Claudio himself hadn’t noticed it. Most people could be oblivious to their resemblance to others unless the other person was famous or someone pointed out the resemblance.
All the way to the Palazzo Uccello, Urbino considered various scenarios that could have developed as a result of this resemblance if someone had mistaken one man for the other.
One of them, Luca Benigni, was dead. Did this mean that the other, Claudio Balbi, was in danger? Or did it mean that he was safe, now that Benigni might have died in his place?
‘I know you too well, caro,’ the contessa said over the telephone a few hours later. ‘You aren’t waiting until after the regatta. You’re pursuing your notions about Albina.’ She paused. ‘To be honest, I think I like you even better for not doing what I said.’
‘You make it too easy for me to be disobedient. And I’ve been very much so. All day today. And it’s been a very full day, perhaps even a fruitful one.’
He gave an account of what he had learned from the time he had visited Giulietta, finishing with his conversation with Claudio. He confided some of his speculations.
‘Before Clementina Foppa told me her brother was gay, I wondered about what Hollander thought about the relationship between Benigni and his stepfather,’ U
rbino said. ‘Now it’s even more of an issue – that is, if he knew.’
‘I’m sure he did. Didn’t you suspect as much about Zoll and Luca Benigni?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s probably what broke up Zoll’s marriage.’
‘Yes, but not his relationship with Luca. The marriage was over before Zoll came to Venice. But I suppose Nick could have resented Luca.’
‘Not necessarily Luca,’ the contessa corrected, ‘but his stepfather, because of the divorce, or rather the circumstances that led to it.’
‘I know you criticized me for being suspicious that Hollander always says good things about Zoll but it could be a way of concealing his resentment.’
The two friends then passed on to the resemblance between Claudio and Luca.
‘Yes, I suppose they do resemble each other,’ the contessa said, ‘though I didn’t get a good look at the poor young man that one time. They’re certainly the same physical type.’
‘I think you’ll see the resemblance more when I show you the photograph.’
‘Are you suggesting that someone mistook Benigni for Claudio? Then Claudio might be in danger.’
‘He could be in danger, yes. But it’s also possible someone could have mistaken him for Benigni.’
‘Who might this someone be?’ she said.
‘I’m trying to work that out. And there’s another possibility. Someone might have been intentionally taking advantage of the resemblance.’
‘Where might that lead us?’
‘I’m not sure where any of this will lead us.’
‘Maybe it would help if we knew what’s in the envelope Albina left for him,’ the contessa suggested.
‘Of course it would, if only to eliminate possibilities.’
‘Do you really feel that Claudio is hiding something?’
‘Yes, but whether it has anything to do with Albina’s death is something else entirely.’
One of Urbino’s hardest tasks, whether in his sleuthing or his biographies, was trying to uncover the secrets that existed in everyone’s lives and deciding which of them were significant and which ones he should reveal, which ones he should leave alone.
‘Before I forget, Barbara, would you do me a favor and invite Giulietta Gonella and Clementina Foppa to your regatta party? It would give me the opportunity to talk to them again in pleasant circumstances. And having them all under the same roof would give me an opportunity to observe them. I know it’s late to ask someone but you should be able to find a way around it.’
‘You have greater faith in my social skills than I do. And I don’t even know Clementina Foppa. It will seem strange.’
‘Why not mention how impressed you are with her work? Tell her how the notebook was a gift for you.’
‘Aren’t you devious! All right, I’ll ring her, and Giulietta, too. But they’ve both had a death in the family. They might decline.’
‘I doubt that.’
‘You have everyone figured out. Is that how it is?’
‘Hardly. That’s one reason why I’m planning to talk with Oriana.’
‘Oriana?’
‘Well, she knew Albina, and she knows Claudio – and Perla and Romolo Beato. And if anyone would notice a resemblance between two good-looking men, it would be Oriana.’
‘You’re right there. But did she know Benigni?’
‘It’s another thing I’d like to find out.’
‘So you’re thinking of rounding out an already busy day by making a trip to the Giudecca?’
‘Not tonight. Tomorrow. Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to go out in the gondola tonight? The weather’s turned cooler. About eight thirty or nine? We could talk these things through a bit. You know how that helps. It’s a lovely evening.’
‘I thought Gildo needed to rest.’
‘He keeps insisting that going out in the gondola would be good for him.’
‘And you can’t deny the poor boy the pleasure of being of service to you! You’ve found the perfect victim. It sounds romantic, caro, but I need to stay in tonight. Why don’t you ring Nick Hollander? He said how envious he was of your gondola. Unless you’d rather float along by yourself and drift from one thought to another, as you like to do so much – too much,’ she corrected.
‘Maybe I’ll see if he’s free. And speaking of Hollander, have you heard anything from Bascomb about Hollander’s tour company?’
‘I doubt if we’re going to hear anything until September.’
‘There’s something else I’d like you to do involving Hollander, if you don’t mind.’
‘What?’ the contessa asked, after hesitating a few moments.
‘I know there isn’t much time between now and the regatta, and how busy you are with the preparations,’ he began. ‘And you have to entertain Ausonio …’
‘You’re building up to something that I don’t think I’m going to like.’
‘I’d like you to arrange an outing to Torcello with Hollander. The three of us. In your motorboat. For Tuesday morning, if possible.’ Tuesday was the day after tomorrow. ‘And be sure that you include Ausonio. Hollander was in the Capri Regatta last year. They can talk about Capri. Do your absolute best to persuade him. Will you do that?’
The contessa didn’t respond right away. When she did, her tone was coolly disapproving.
‘You are trying to get me to be deceptive in some way. No, don’t tell me how. But I can sense it.’ She paused. ‘If I say I’ll do it, it’s only because I know it must be important. Yes, I’ll ring him. We’ll have an outing. I’ll even pack a picnic lunch. How’s that for cooperation?’
There are few things more enjoyable than a gondola ride on a mild summer evening, especially when it’s your own private one and you don’t have to worry about the cost of a fifty-minute glide. Although Urbino might have preferred different company, he couldn’t have found anyone more appreciative than Nick Hollander was proving to be.
‘It’s not the same city seeing it from a gondola,’ Hollander said as Gildo’s warning ‘Hoi!’ echoed from the buildings around them and the boat turned into the Canalazzo.
Hollander was dressed in a beige linen suit and a white shirt that showed off his tan. He didn’t look as fresh and rested as he had looked at the restaurant and the Palazzo Uccello. He was a little haggard, and the lines seemed more prominent on his weather-beaten face. ‘The view from the water is always a different view, but Venice is a special case. The first time I saw it was from the water. I took a boat from Piraeus. Enchanting.’
It was a little past nine o’clock. The cloudless sky above them was a deep, dark purple and sprinkled with stars.
Urbino had said he would bring the gondola to the Gritti Palace, but Hollander had insisted on coming to the Palazzo Uccello on foot.
‘It will make up for the idleness,’ he had said. He had brought a chilled bottle of champagne in an ice-filled carrying case and two champagne glasses as well as a chilled bottle of mineral water for Gildo.
At Urbino’s request, Gildo had removed the felze. To be enclosed together in the small cabin would have been more intimate than Urbino – and Hollander, perhaps – would have liked. It would also have put an unnecessary barrier between themselves and the scene they were enjoying now.
For the first part of their slow advance through the waters of the Grand Canal, there were no serenading flotillas of gondolas anywhere in sight, but only lone ones like their own, and even these had only two occupants taking advantage of the romantic hour. The boats zigzagging the Canalazzo from one stop to another only added to the charm of the scene, their wakes giving Gildo little trouble in his maneuvering and providing his passengers with only a slightly more exaggerated version of that rocking motion that is one of the delights of riding in a gondola.
An occasional motorboat might make the maneuvering a little more difficult and the rocking more energetic, as was happening now as they passed beneath the façade of the contessa’s palazzo, but still the champa
gne in their glasses was in no danger of spilling out.
Urbino pointed out the Ca’ da Capo-Zendrini to Hollander.
‘It’s even grander than it looks in the photos Sebastian showed me,’ Hollander said. ‘Such marvelous detail. Look at that frieze of lions.’
‘All of these palaces were designed to be seen from the water. They show their best side to the Grand Canal. The land entrances are rather uninspired. You might have noticed the same thing with my building.’
‘By the way, why is your place called a palazzo, but Barbara’s isn’t? Many big buildings in Venice are called “Ca,” I’ve noticed.’
‘It’s an abbreviation for “casa,” house. A Venetian usage.’
‘I never thought the Venetians would indulge in understatement,’ Hollander said, ‘but it’s appropriate for Barbara’s palazzo, being British as she is. She’s looking after a fellow Brit quite well. The outing to Torcello on Tuesday is a great idea. And it’ll be nice to meet her nephew.’
‘So you’ll be going with us?’
‘Yes. I’d go even if I had already seen Torcello.’
‘You’ll love it. “The Mother of Venice.” I’ll enjoy showing you the mosaics in the basilica. And if we’re lucky we might be able to go to the top of the campanile. There’s a great view of the lagoon.’
Urbino was about to say more but he held himself back. He didn’t want to risk making Hollander suspicious once the outing materialized.
The gondola slid through the dark waters toward the Rialto Bridge, Gildo’s oar making a gentle, soothing plash on those occasions when the sounds around it didn’t overwhelm and absorb it. Soon after they drifted past the Ca’ da Capo-Zendrini, Urbino was tempted to draw attention to the ornate Ca’ d’ Oro, with the marble tracery of its façade emphasized tonight by the illumination within the deep recesses of its loggia, but he kept his silence. He didn’t intrude on Hollander’s thoughts as his companion looked out at the scene.
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