by Dave Duncan
“Did you see your Turkish friend?” he asked suddenly.
“No.”
“Hanging between the columns, in the Piazzetta.”
“It can’t make him much more dead.”
“I suppose not.” To my astonishment, Vasco chuckled. Either he had decided to make the best of the situation or he had settled on a nice, round hundred lashes.
After a moment he asked quietly, “How did you know he was a Turkish spy?”
“Just between us two?”
“I swear.”
“Too dangerous to say.”
He eyed me uneasily. “You or the Maestro?”
“In this case it was me.”
“You really have such powers?”
“He’s taught me a few tricks.”
“And those tricks won’t tell you who set the bravos on you yesterday?”
“I can’t ask personal favors, but I’m fairly sure it was because I had learned about Karagounis. The idea was to silence me before I could expose him.”
“I would not traffic in such evil,” Vasco said pompously.
“It’s dangerous,” I admitted. “I get nightmares.”
Sometimes he was in them.
And yet going visiting with the vizio was a wicked pleasure. He might not be able to quell a riot just by appearing, as Missier Grande could, but he did shine with some reflected glory. People almost fell off the fondamente into the canals to get out of his way. Doors seemed to open of their own accord as he approached. When we reached San Zulian, I left Bruno with Giorgio and strapped on my sword. Vasco always went armed, but he truly did not need to.
Even Imer’s mildewed clerk, who had tried to be officious to me two days earlier, just fell back in horror when Vasco walked in. I pointed at the far door. Vasco marched straight on through without waiting for permission and then told the attorney’s client he could leave, which he did expeditiously. The attorney cowered behind his desk and listened in steadily rising fury as I explained what we wanted.
“On whose authority?” he croaked when I had done.
“Filiberto?” I said.
Vasco shot me a venomous look and then said, “You have a duty to cooperate with the Council of Ten, lustrissimo. Must I go back and report that you refuse?”
“The Council has ordered this?”
“I am here on Missier Grande ’s instructions.”
Imer twitched. “What time?”
I said, “An hour after Angelus will do.”
“Do I have to serve wine again?”
“Not unless you wish to. But we need the same furniture and glasses and some books or papers. Also we want the servant Giuseppe Benzon present.”
“Anything you say, apprentice.” His glare would have boiled the Grand Canal. Vasco was untouchable, but I had made another enemy.
As we walked out side by side, I said. “It must be nice, having such power.”
Vasco is slightly taller than I am and never misses a chance to look down on me. “Yes and no.”
“What’s the no?”
“I get nightmares too.”
Once in a while he shows a humble streak that I find very annoying.
I told Giorgio the Ca’ della Naves and made myself comfortable, opening the curtains and preparing to enjoy the journey. Vasco brooded in silence, mostly, but every now and again he would nonchalantly ask a simple question about what we were doing. I answered honestly, admiring his skill. Without ever pushing, he soon knew everything worth knowing about my meeting with the chiefs.
“So your master doesn’t trust you with the name of the murderer?”
“Did yours tell you Karagounis was under observation?” I countered.
No answer.
“Do you know anything about Domenico Chiari?”
Vasco’s dark gaze drilled into me. “Should I?”
“Yes. The foreign couple we’re about to see hired him as interpreter and guide, so it is sure as holy writ that he was spying for the Ten. Last week he disappeared. I’d like to know if he walked out on them or was ordered to or if he’s just floating face down in the lagoon, somewhere.”
“You are melodramatic.”
“We have seen four violent deaths in three days and I barely escaped another.”
Vasco sighed. “Life is full of sorrows. I knew a Domenico Chiari. We took lessons from the same tutor, but I haven’t seen him in ages. He works for a banker. I don’t know if he spies for the Ten. Only Circospetto would know for sure.”
As we walked up the echoing, musty, and scabby staircase in the Ca’ della Naves, I said, “Sir Bellamy Feather has been here about two months, buying pictures and other art for collectors in northern Europe. Lady Hyacinth, his wife, is the size of a canal dredger’s barge and smarter than she pretends. They were not invited to the Imer party but they turned up anyway and Imer threw them out. No known motive to kill the procurator.”
“Succinct report, deputy.”
That sneer put him a few points ahead, so I resolved to try harder. I hammered on the door. We waited. It stayed shut.
“I can run down and fetch Bruno,” I suggested.
The vizio was raising an official fist to try his luck when the door swung open, and there was Sir Feather himself, millwheel ruff, oar-sized mustache, and shoulder high. In fact he was not as small as I remembered, but then his wife was not present.
“You’re late! We have been waiting,” he said in his execrable French. “There they are.” He stepped aside to reveal a pile of roped trunks and boxes. Then he saw me. “You again? You dare to return to this house?”
“In the flesh.” I bowed. “And this is-”
“Go away before I call the police!” He tried to shut the door, but the long leg of the law intervened-Vasco put his boot in.
“ Je suis un gendarme, monseigneur. You have a complaint against this man?” The accursed Vasco spoke French better than I did and was beefier than Feather, because the door opened despite the little man’s best efforts to hold it. I know from engaging blades with him on many occasions that Vasco’s wrists are stronger than mine, which is another flaw in his character.
Feather glared at both of us, as if uncertain which he hated more. “He inserted himself in this house the night before last under false pretenses and forced my lady wife into the bedroom under the deception that he wished to inspect the paintings we have collected and had I not returned opportunely might have-”
“Yes?” Vasco said breathlessly.
“Frightened her considerably.”
“This is a most serious charge,” the vizio told him, and his sidelong glance at me was suffused with pure ecstasy. Heaven had answered his prayers. “I shall need to hear all the details. I am Filiberto Vasco, deputy to the chief of police of the serene Republic.” He flashed the silver badge on his belt, while steadily edging his way into the apartment, herding Feather before him.
“There is no time! My wife and I are leaving on the instant. The men coming to take our baggage are overdue.”
At that moment the lady of the house loomed into view, rattling off some guttural question to her husband. Vasco’s eyes widened at the sight of her. He eyed me as if wondering how a charge of attempted rape would stand up before the judges. And then, to my intense annoyance, he switched to English. He was clearly not fluent in it, but he spoke it at least as well as any of us spoke French. The other two cried out in joy and all three began gabbling in a hodgepodge of the two languages.
Another point to him! This day was not working out as it should.
I was not quite shut out, for I could guess what was going on from the French words and watching the faces. The Feathers were about to leave the city to go to Rome. But Vasco had orders to make sure that they turned up at the Maestro’s party that evening and they were only foreigners, so he had all the latitude he wanted. Now Sir Bellamy had accused me of attempted rape, Vasco explained, they would have to file a formal complaint and probably stay in town until an investigation could be held.<
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The English are reputed to be a phlegmatic race, but Bellamy exploded like a bombard. He stamped his feet and screamed and at one point seemed about to draw his sword. I was not worried by that, for I knew Vasco was deft enough with his rapier and I would have enjoyed rescuing him had Feather turned out to be defter. I waited, leaning against the door jamb, occasionally stifling a yawn. Hyacinth watched the argument narrowly, saying nothing.
Three men came plodding up the stairs and stopped in alarm when they saw the vizio and a crazy foreigner arguing with him. Vasco, who was starting to turn red himself, stepped out into the hallway.
“If you came to take the foreigners’ baggage, you are not required today.”
They shrugged and removed themselves without a word. He turned and the door slammed in his face with a peal of thunder. He laughed.
“Having a better day than you expected?” I inquired.
“Oh, much better! Stay here, Zeno. I don’t suppose they will try to slip away without their baggage, but I must find some reinforcements.” He dashed off down the stairs.
I waited, hoping the door would open. After a few minutes it did. Hyacinth peered out, then emerged fully.
“We demand to see the English ambassador!”
“I cannot help you, madame. The matter is in the hands of magistrates.”
She eyed me thoughtfully. “I could reward you well if you would take a message to him. Two ducats?”
I sighed and shook my head in deep regret.
She changed signals, lowering eyelashes, pursing plum lips. “If you could help me, I should be very much in your debt, lustrissimo.”
Saints protect me! I imagined a tussle with those great limbs and hastily thought of Violetta instead. “It would do no good. The vizio has gone to fetch guards. If you try to leave the city, you will be stopped, madame. I am sorry.”
She went back in and slammed the door.
Vasco reappeared at the bottom of the topmost flight of stairs, beckoning me to go down to him.
“All arranged?” I asked. “That was quick.”
He smiled smugly. “All arranged.”
Venice supports nothing like the great police forces found in most cities, but the Council of Ten has agents everywhere. Without doubt someone was already carrying word to the palace and others would keep watch so the Feathers did not slip away.
As we walked back to the gondola, I asked, “Am I to be charged with attempted rape?”
“I hope that can be arranged,” the vizio said happily. “It will depend, I suspect, on what happens this evening. If we need a way to solve our Alfeo Zeno problem, and the Feathers need permission to leave the city, something can be worked out to our mutual satisfaction, if not to yours.”
“Certainly not to mine,” I agreed. “An automatic death sentence, commuted to ten years in the galleys?”
“I wouldn’t count on that last bit if I were you.”
Another point to him.
I said, “You mentioned that you shared a tutor with Domenico Chiari. What subject were you studying?”
“English and German.”
“Why?”
“You think I got this job entirely on my good looks?”
“Obviously not.” He had gotten it by being somebody’s nephew, but it would be petty to say so. “So Domenico was planted on the foreigners to spy for the Ten, but he only admitted to knowing French, not English, so that he could eavesdrop on their private conversations?”
“That’s very obvious, Alfeo. Quite simplistic.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just a dumb monseigneur. And has Domenico Chiari now returned to his normal job at the bank, spying on foreign currency transactions?”
We arrived at the mooring and had climbed into the gondola before I received an answer. I told Giorgio to take us to the Ca’ Orseolo. When I joined Vasco in the felze he said:
“I don’t know what’s happened to Domenico. He’s not a close friend of mine, but he is a friend. That’s another reason the Feathers will not be leaving Venice today.”
22
C a’ Orseolo fronted on the Grand Canal, naturally. It was too old to be one of the truly splendid palaces, but it still gave off a reek of money that annoyed me intensely when I remembered all the trouble I had had collecting the Maestro’s fee for the ill-fated horoscope. Two large cargo barges were tied up at the watergate when we arrived, and Giorgio had trouble docking. Although Florence is a greater weaving center, Venice trades in wool from England and Flanders, cotton from Egypt, silk from Cathay. I knew that Ca’ Orseolo was one of the principal importers of finished fabrics, and I counted ten men unloading bales. Inside the androne I saw stacks of furniture that had probably just arrived from the Procuratie.
By myself, and especially after the previous day’s spitting match, I would have needed the backing of a brigade of musketeers to get close to any member of the family. I had dear Vasco instead. Without hesitation he strode into the androne, headed straight to a man issuing orders, and demanded to be taken at once to the noble Enrico. And so he was, with me smiling happily along at his side. We did not even have to go upstairs. The Lizard and his son were closeted in a counting room nearby with an elderly clerk and a dozen massive ledgers. None of them was wearing formal mourning, so grief had been stoically set aside in favor of tallying up the inheritance. Or possibly young Benedetto was being given a lesson in the family business. His sling still hung around his neck, but did not contain his arm. That hand held a pen, and he was making notes. A fast healer, obviously.
Father and son stared in blazing disbelief at the intruders, from Vasco to Zeno and back again. Vasco stepped aside with a flourish to give me the stage. The clerk tactfully scuttled out, closing the door.
I bowed with grace. “Your Excellency… sier Benedetto…I am deeply sorry to have to intrude on your grief again. I did inform Your Excellency yesterday that officers of the Republic were supporting my investigation of your honored father’s death.” I paused so Enrico might comment. He merely laid his arms on the desk and stared at me with his bulging eyes like Jupiter aiming thunderbolts.
I continued. “This evening, one hour after Angelus, the persons who were present in the Imer residence on the evening of the thirteenth will assemble there again, at which time my master, Doctor Nostradamus, will demonstrate how and by whom your father was murdered. Since your daughter was one of the witnesses, we request that she attend.”
Enrico waited to see if that was all, then snake-eyed my escort, “You are the genuine vizio, Filiberto Vasco?”
“I am, Excellency.”
I wondered if the great conciliator was about to offer us a deal, something involving only half my head on a plate.
“I wanted to be quite sure. The swindler beside you intruded on our house of mourning yesterday claiming to speak for the Council of Ten and accompanied by a prostitute masquerading as a nun. He created a disturbance, even threatening to draw on my son, who was unarmed. I am surprised by the company you keep, Vizio.”
Vasco’s day just kept getting better. How he managed to keep from giggling I could not imagine.
“I am deeply shocked to hear these charges, Your Excellency. They are most serious and I am certain that the Ten will react with great severity.”
“Is he a nobile homo as he claims?”
Vasco sighed. “Regrettably, yes, at the moment, but even if he escapes the gallows, he will certainly be stricken from the Golden Book when he is sent to the galleys.” He gave me a warm smile. “His master does have permission to stage a reenactment this evening, though, and action against both of them will have to wait until after that is completed. I expect that Missier Grande himself will be there, and will certainly oblige a minister of your eminence by taking Zeno into custody as soon as the farce is over. I may report that your daughter will attend?”
I was keeping an eye on Benedetto, who looked troubled. Alfeo with the vizio ’s backing was a much more credible threat than Alfeo without.
His father said, “As a member of the Collegio, I take grave exception to this harassment in my time of sorrow. The Council of Ten has approved the farce you describe?”
Vasco would not have arrived where he had without some natural skill at obfuscation. “The chiefs raised no objections to Maestro Nostradamus’s proposal, but they granted him no immunity either. He and Zeno may both be vulnerable to prosecution for malicious mischief, at the very least.”
“I will see that both are charged,” Enrico said, giving me a venomous look. “My daughter will be present.”
As we walked back out to the watergate, Vasco said, “If you have any sense, boy, you will start running now and not stop until you are somewhere in the hinterland of the Kingdom of Prester John, wearing a heavy beard.”
“You enjoy this prospect?”
“It helps me bear the sorrows of life,” he conceded.
I told Giorgio the Ca’ Tirali.
For several reasons I dreaded my coming meeting with the new ambassador. For one, although my letter had turned down his incredibly generous offer, no doubt I would find a gracious and courteous reply waiting for me when I returned to Ca’ Barbolano. For another, I strongly suspected that he was possessed, like Karagounis, because his offer had not just been incredible in itself, it had come very soon after I was snared by the manuscript. And for a third, even my impudence does have limits. Tirali senior was one of the inner circle of government. As one of the six great ministers, Enrico Orseolo was another, of course, but Vasco and I had not been demanding that he attend the meeting, only asking that he send his daughter to it.
I had no need of the vizio to gain admittance, because the doorman granted me noble honors. He deeply regretted that Ambassador Tirali had already left for the palace, but sier Pasqual was in residence. If the clarissimo would be so kind as to follow…He led us up the great staircase and left us in the imposing salotto while he went to report our presence. I headed for a Palma Vecchio I had admired the previous day.