Now, he had to rely again on his wits to achieve his goals. And wits alone would now be needed solve the mystery that had so far caused three deaths. Most recently, Bernardo Bagnioli had been stabbed because he had been deeply involved in whatever plot revolved around the bringing of gold back to Venice. Zuliani had no doubts about that. Baglioni’s own fears, expressed so clearly, meant he must have known who he would fall foul of if he spoke up. Unfortunately for the trader, his co-conspirator had decided to stop his mouth anyway. Saluzzo had also been murdered. Zuliani had seen the corpse, and there was no way his death had been an accident. You didn’t get three puncture wounds on your chest falling from the rigging, only from a dagger seeking to stop your heart. Saluzzo had met a similar fate to Baglioni, either because he was in the plot as well, or because he had seen too much. Zuliani guessed at the former reason. A ship’s captain knew everything that happened on board his ship. He had to, in order to maintain control. Baglioni and whoever the others were would have had to recruit him to the cause too. And ultimately, that had led to his death. That left only Baseggio.
Zuliani believed the old man was innocent of any wrong-doing. The retired shipwright had no reason to be a part of the plot as his only involvement prior to the venture had been to put a small amount of money into it. No, he had been killed merely because he had been too nosy. Just like Zuliani had been. He began to wonder if he too would be silenced. It all depended on whether he had been seen in the storehouse. But even if he had been, he had one consolation after that night’s escapade: Kate was safe. No one would have identified her as the youth accompanying him on the break-in.
He sniffed at the three jugs that Cat had used to mix the salve for his wounds, finally identifying the wine. He took a swig, and pulled a face. Though it was not the vinegar in the concoction, it was close to it in the sharpness of its flavour. It must have been the cheapest wine she could find for the preparation.
Cat returned, and saw what he was doing. She took the wine jug from him. ‘That was awful wine, and only good to wash wounds with.’
Zuliani wiped his lips with the back of his hand. ‘I know that now. Do you have some good wine to take away the taste?’
She gave him a severe look, and told him that the representative of the Signori della Notte had gone. He had reluctantly bowed to the grand lady’s wishes.
‘But they won’t leave it there. You need to find this murderer before you are accused yourself.’
Zuliani shrugged as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
‘I think I need to do something to cheer myself up. I thought I would attend the Doge’s banquet tonight.’
Cat was startled by Zuliani’s pronouncement. The banquet was intended to parade the Council of Ten candidates one last time before the great and the good of Venice. Everyone whom Zuliani despised would be there, and she had assumed he would not wish to attend, even if he was still set on getting elected. And she had presumed that recently he had stepped back from the idea. That was why she had been pushing him into the fray at every opportunity. She had hated the idea of Zuliani becoming part of the establishment from the beginning. But she knew the only way to dissuade him was to persist in encouraging his involvement with the corruption that power brought. Now he seemed to want to rub shoulders with those in the highest positions in the republic and their supporters. Had her strategy failed?
‘Are you sure you want to?’
Zuliani nodded vigorously. ‘Oh, yes. And you will be on my arm, of course. Now go and get dressed in your finest.’
Caterina Dolfin glanced down at the discarded and ruined jaqueta.
‘Very well. But what will you wear?’
‘Something appropriate to my aspirations, I can assure you. Now go!’
Cat was not convinced by Zuliani’s choice of clothes. They arrived at the palace’s water gate in Rio della Canonica by means of the Dolfin family barchetta. In order to get out of the boat, Zuliani had to lift up the long robe he wore. It was a silk gown embroidered with dragons that he had brought back from Cathay. And though he insisted it was proper court dress in the presence of Kubilai Khan, Cat thought it would not impress the case vecchie. But as its sumptuous nature outdid her own gown, perhaps she was being overcritical. Having straightened his own gown, Zuliani helped her from the boat, which was swiftly rowed away, allowing more vessels to disgorge other richly caparisoned guests at the Doge’s gates. Climbing the grand stone stairs, they made their way towards the hall of the Great Council. The event was already in full swing.
Zuliani cast an enquiring gaze around the hall, and Cat realised that perhaps he wasn’t here to impress the old aristocracy after all. He seemed to be looking for someone in particular. She took his arm, and pulled him to one side, allowing others behind them to pass through into the chattering throng. She whispered in his ear, though it was hardly necessary as the sound of a thousand conversations was almost deafening.
‘Who are you looking for, Nick?’
‘Looking? Why should I be looking for anyone?’
A servant passed by with a tray of wine goblets, and Zuliani grabbed two, splashing some of their contents on the marble floor. He scuffed it with the sole of his boot, and passed one of the goblets to Cat. She pulled a face at his expression of innocence about her question.
‘I may have found you again only after many years, but you were always an open book to me in the past and nothing has changed since then. You think the answer to the murders is here in this room, don’t you?’
Zuliani smiled, and took a long swig of the wine. When he had finished, he waved the goblet in an arc before him.
‘Take a look around this room, and tell me what you see.’
‘I already know who I can see, and everyone is in the pages of the Libro d’Oro.’
She was referring to the book that listed the aristocracy of Venice, without which entry a person could not serve on the Great Council. Or vote for the Council of Ten. But she didn’t need to look around the hall to know that. Zuliani shook his head at her reply.
‘You’re wrong. There are others here who are not Venetian, but are the support and mainstay of those you identify. There is a cardinal or two here, for example. But that is not what I asked. I asked what you saw, not who you saw.’
Cat frowned, not quite understanding what it was Nick wanted of her. But he didn’t keep her in ignorance for long. He waved his goblet again, splashing more wine on the floor, much to the consternation of an elegantly dressed, elderly woman standing close by. She looked his exotic garb up and down with disdain, and moved away. Cat grinned maliciously.
‘You just lost the vote of the whole Tron family. That was Sofia, the matriarch of the Trons, and none of her offspring defies her.’
‘I care little about the vote, and you know it. You’ve spent the last few weeks deliberately pushing these people down my throat, in a bid to convince me of their awfulness. And your ploy has been successful. So I know you can see what I see.’
‘And what is that?’
‘Greed. Not the simple lust for good food and wine. I can understand that sort of greed, and can forgive it. No, they are all greedy for power. And wealth, which brings power with it.’
‘I cannot deny that, Nick. God knows, I have lived with it all my life. But if greed is the cause of those murders, and everyone here is driven by greed, how are you going to weed out the killer?’
Zuliani tapped the side of his nose in a conspiratorial gesture.
‘By making him reveal himself. Watch this.’
Cat watched as he strode into the crowd of sycophants around the Doge, and began to shake hands like an eager candidate for election. When a hand was not immediately proffered, he grabbed the reluctant man’s arm and took his hand anyway. She observed in bewilderment as he worked his way through the inner circle of Soranzo’s friends, even grasping the Doge’s own hand. Surely he didn’t think that the Doge was involved in the murders?
She noted how he held each hand for a long
time, always gazing down as he shook it. Soon he had finished with the group around the Doge, and moved swiftly on, shaking hands as he went. She began to wonder if he had gone mad, and was trying to get elected after all, because she had no idea how his actions would help him find the murderer. Unless he was testing for a sweaty palm. All she could do was trail after him as he bore down on Sofia Tron and her family. Once again he was shaking hands, much to the disgust of the elderly matriarch of the family. Now Cat could believe Sofia Tron capable of murder. The look in her eyes suggested she would cheerfully murder Zuliani before the whole case vecchie. He did pause for a long time over squeezing Marco Tron’s hand, and Cat wondered if Nick had divined something about the man’s guilt. But then he moved on.
Soon he had worked his way almost entirely down the hall, until he spotted someone else. It was the banker, Antonio Perruzzi, who had a similar circle around him as had the Doge. They reminded Cat of buzzing flies hovering around a corpse. In fact, it was an apt analogy, because the banker was quite old, and his face resembled nothing more than a skull with parchment-like skin drawn tightly over it. His cheerless smile exposed a set of yellowed teeth, completing the image of a death’s head. Of course, none of the sycophants around him would dare to tell him this, and Zuliani for his part seemed delighted to encounter Perruzzi at last. As Cat drew closer in order to listen to Nick, she saw a faint aura of horror creeping over the banker’s face as his hand was pressed. He wrestled it away from Zuliani, at the same time responding to his obsequious address.
‘I think your entreaties are ill-placed, messer. I have no influence over the selection of the Council of Ten, being a mere Florentine.’
His voice was grating, and carried a note of disdain. Zuliani responded ingratiatingly.
‘I would not say that, Messer Perruzzi. A man of your wealth and influence wields power wherever he desires.’
Perruzzi narrowed his eyes, not sure if what this ridiculous man in his outrageous garb said was meant sincerely, or as a criticism. Cat, who was now at Zuliani’s shoulder, smiled at Perruzzi reassuringly. Zuliani meanwhile pressed on.
‘You trade in such great amounts of silver coin and gold that we mere mortals can only stand back and admire. They do say that the King of England is so indebted to you that his whole realm could not pay you back what is owed.’
Perruzzi’s thin lips tightened so much that they were all but invisible. Even as he replied, he began to cast around for one of his minions to come to his rescue.
‘I do not trade, sir, and any debt owed is to the bank, not to myself. Now if you will excuse me . . .’
A hand fell on Zuliani’s shoulder, and he looked round to see it was Agnolo Rosso who had come to the banker’s aid. He turned, taking the man’s hand in his as he did so. He looked down at the heavily ringed fingers, and shook the hand vigorously.
‘Rosso, so good to see you again. I hope you got your profits from Baglioni before his unfortunate demise.’
Rosso nodded curtly. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact I did. A bad business that. Such blatant street robbery as that would not be allowed in Florence. But I am not in the mood for such depressing matters. How about a drink to celebrate our mutual good fortune?’
A servant with a tray of drinks was close at hand, and Rosso took two, passing them to Zuliani and Cat, before taking one for himself. Behind him, Perruzzi slipped away into the throng, and Rosso turned his attention to Caterina.
‘Tell me, Domina Dolfin, is your granddaughter well?’
‘She is very well, Messer Rosso. Thank you for your enquiry. I was not aware you knew I had a granddaughter.’
Rosso’s smile was broad, but somehow unreal.
‘Ah, well, the Doge mentioned her in conversation. And Domina Tron, also, I believe. There is so much to learn about the grand families of Venice.’ He turned his false grin on Zuliani. ‘Is she related in any way to you, Zuliani?’
Zuliani’s face froze.
‘Why would you even ask such a question, Rosso? That would presuppose some family connection with Domina Dolfin, who is, as you rightly observe, a member of one of the grandest families of La Serenissima.’ He paused momentarily. ‘While I am a mere member of the merchant class.’
Rosso flicked a beringed finger at him.
‘And yet you are a candidate for the Council of Ten, and this charming lady is by your side.’
Zuliani shrugged. ‘Merely as a sponsor to smooth my path into the top echelons. And you will have to excuse me now. If I am to win this election, I will have to ingratiate myself some more with the great and the good.’ He took Cat’s arm firmly. ‘If you will introduce me to Domina Tron, I should be obliged.’
As he hustled Cat away from the Florentine, she whispered in his ear, ‘What was all that about? And if you want to win over Sofia Tron, you are going in the wrong direction. She is over there putting the Doge in his place.’
She indicated off to their left, where the matriarch of the Tron dynasty was bending the ear of a glum-looking Giovanni Soranzo. The Doge glanced over at Cat Dolfin and Zuliani with a pleading look in his eyes. But Zuliani was in no mood to come to his assistance. He didn’t know who to trust any more in this palace of greed. And he was suddenly afraid for his granddaughter, Katie, whose name was apparently on the lips of the Doge and the Trons. Perhaps her presence on his trip to the Arsenale wasn’t as secret as he had hoped.
‘We are going home, if you want to know. And as swiftly as possible.’
Not wishing to alarm Cat unnecessarily, he came up with an excuse for his sudden change of plans.
‘This gang of crooks has depressed me.’
Cat beamed at him. ‘I’m glad you said that. I am as tired as you of them all.’
Zuliani did not want to wait for the Dolfins’ barchetta, so the couple exited the palace by the land gate, and hurried home through the dark streets of Venice. Reaching Ca’ Dolfin, Zuliani called out Katie’s name, and when there was no response, ran to her room as fast as his ageing legs could carry him. The room was empty, and the only sign she had been there was the book by Dante Alighieri lying open and face down on the floor. It looked to him as if it had been hastily discarded, or dropped in a struggle. He slumped down on the bed beside it.
‘What’s going on, Nick? Why are you so concerned about Katie?’
Cat stood in the doorway, a dark look on her face. Zuliani hesitated for a moment, not sure whether he wanted to share his fears with her. But then he knew she would never forgive him if he didn’t do so and something terrible had happened.
‘I know who killed Baglioni, Saluzzo, and the old man. And I think he knows about Katie and me uncovering the secret hoard of gold in the Arsenale. Even if he doesn’t, I think he is going to use Katie as a pawn to draw me out, and kill me, too.’
Cat felt the heat of her body falling away, and being replaced by an icy coldness. She leaned on the door frame for support, her legs quivering.
‘What is all this about, Nick. Whose gold is it?’
Zuliani took Cat’s arm and drew her down on to Katie’s bed beside him.
‘At first, I thought it was Soranzo, or another member of the case vecchie – the Trons maybe – accumulating gold secretly. They are not listed in the Libro d’Oro for nothing, after all. But then I began to put Baglioni’s trip together with other stories I have heard bandied about for some time now. The big banking houses have been shipping out silver coins by the thousands in order to buy gold at preferential rates in the Middle East and beyond. They seem to care little about the effect on trading here in the West as our coinage disappears abroad. Greed is all that drives them.’
Cat gasped as she realised the truth.
‘The Florentines are behind this. That is why Rosso funded Baglioni’s colleganza – in order to ensure the scheme went ahead.’
‘Yes, and behind Rosso stands old man Perruzzi – the greediest of them all.’
Cat clutched Zuliani’s arm. ‘But then where does this leave Katie?’
Zuliani shrugged. ‘My best guess is she is at the Arsenale. They have not had time to move their gold yet. If she had been taken anywhere, it will be there.’
‘Then you must find her.’
Zuliani didn’t have time now to sneak in the way Francesca Este had described to him. Nor was he inclined to be circumspect, not caring this time about being seen. Maybe it would be best if Rosso knew he was coming anyway. So he marched up to the main entrance beside the water gate. Surprisingly, he was unchallenged, and swiftly made his way along the quay to where Baglioni’s galley had been moored. It was no longer there, but another vessel was, which was no surprise to him. The galley’s purpose had been served, and its secret cargo would now be moved in a different ship to Florence and the coffers of Perruzzi’s bank. There had not yet been time to move the chests, and so Zuliani assumed they were still in the storehouse where he had found them.
When he approached the building, he saw that the small wicket gate set in the larger main doors was ajar. It looked so inviting it made him think that he was right concerning the whereabouts of Katie. With such precious cargo inside, the door would not normally have been left unlocked. They wanted him to enter. He edged up to the opening, and peered into the gloom.
At the far end of the storehouse a couple of lanterns lit a shadowy figure moving along the stack of wooden chests that Zuliani had seen on his last visit. It was difficult to see who it was because the lanterns provided only a silhouette. Zuliani inched through the door and tiptoed towards some barrels piled along the left-hand wall, trying to get closer before he revealed himself. As he crouched down behind one of the barrels, he almost cried out as a hand touched his shoulder. Looking up, and thinking he was discovered by one of Perruzzi’s henchmen, he was astonished to see a slim, pale face staring at him from under a sugar-loaf hat. The person’s hat was pulled well down and the face was in darkness, but a stray blond tress told him all he needed to know. It was Katie in her page-boy garb. He hissed a strangled question at her.
The Deadliest Sin Page 11