“Sister Maddalena? May I ask what business you have intruding on my sister’s-” Silence.
Violetta had folded back her veil again. His face turned ivory-white. My heart dropped like an anchor.
She curtseyed. “My most sincere sympathy on your loss, Bene.”
“You are no nun!”
She smiled. “As you well know.”
“What do you want with my sister? Why does a harlot force herself on a girl of patrician rank? She says you were here yesterday, too.”
“I came to help her, Benedetto.”
“Help her? Help her in what way?”
He had recovered from his first shock and was moving swiftly to anger. Had I been alone I might have taken to my heels, but I was much more frightened about what might happen to Violetta than I was about any danger to me.
Aspasia remained serene and confident. “How are you enjoying Padua?”
“What business is that of yours?”
“Who suggested you go there?” Her smile would have dissolved the stoniest heart. “Be fair, Benedetto! Admit that you have benefitted from my help in the past. When I made you welcome in my bed, you called me courtesan, not that other word.”
He colored. “State your business!”
She sighed. “May I present sier Alfeo Zeno? Will you listen to what he has to say, please, Benedetto? Then you will see why this is important.”
At a glance Benedetto assessed my best outfit as rags and me as poor trash, probably her pimp. He barely nodded to my bow.
“ Clarissimo,” I said, “my sympathy on your sad loss. The news I bring can only increase the pain. Your honored grandfather,” and I pointed up at the painting, “was murdered.”
He bristled. “I give you two minutes to justify that remark.”
“One will suffice. You have no doubt heard gossip that the procurator’s death was prophesied in a horoscope prepared for him by Maestro Nostradamus. Your sister may have told you that the doctor Nostradamus who came to his aid when he took ill at the supper party was the same man. He immediately recognized the symptoms of a certain poison. Whether you believe in astrology, as your grandfather did, or scoff at it like His Serenity Pietro Moro, you must acknowledge that Nostradamus is a celebrated doctor. He says that your grandfather was poisoned. I am helping him discover who did this terrible thing.”
Sier Benedetto rallied. “On whose authority? Is the Grand Council so desperate for candidates that it is electing boys as state inquisitors?”
“I was instructed to make these inquiries by a close friend of your grandfather’s, Pietro Moro himself.”
He glanced at my sword and then said, “Rubbish! Have you tried to tell my father this? You expect me to believe it?”
Actually I did not, but I was determined to keep trying, because the alternative was excessively unappealing. “I assure you, clarissimo , that His Serenity granted me not just one, but two, audiences on this matter yesterday. You have heard of the Greek, Alexius Karagounis, who was selling the books?” Receiving a nod, I forged ahead, trying to seem as assured as Violetta. “This morning I called upon Alexius Karagounis, being assisted in my inquiries by the vizio, Filiberto Vasco.”
“So?” But Vasco’s name had sown a seed of doubt.
“Rather than answer our questions, Karagounis leaped out a window to his death, clarissimo. ”
Workmen with ladders had started taking down the paintings and propping them against the walls, ready for carpenters to come and crate them. I should have preferred a more private meeting place, but there probably wasn’t one in the house.
Under happier circumstances, the turmoil of conflicting emotions in Benedetto’s face would have been amusing. “So you consort with the vizio as well as the doge?”
“Reluctantly. Missier Grande and Circospetto are also cooperating. I have no official standing, but the Republic is backing my inquiries.” And all of them would deny me if asked.
“Sier Alfeo is being modest, Bene,” Violetta said. “This morning he was set upon and almost murdered by a gang of bravos.”
“I am not surprised to hear it.”
Wearing a sword carries certain obligations and I had taken as much as I could reasonably be expected to stand. Despite the throbbing pain in my leg, I laid a hand on my sword hilt. “Messer, you hide behind a claim of injury or of nervous prostration brought on by grief?”
He paled. “You dare?”
“My name is written in the Golden Book. Yours does not deserve to be.”
“Stop that, both of you!” Medea’s eyes flashed fire. “Bene, you should withdraw your remark.”
He bit his lip. “I spoke without thinking, clarissimo. ”
“And I in haste.” We bowed to each other. My standing had improved.
“I have good reason to believe that the attack on me was related to the matter of your grandfather’s murder.”
Young Benedetto was visibly drooping under the load we had just piled on his shoulders. He made an effort to straighten them. “My father must be informed of all this. And the first thing he will ask is why the state inquisitors are employing a…” He looked at me in disbelief. “This nobleman to conduct their inquiries for them.”
“It is a tribute to the esteem in which your late grandfather was held,” I told him. “Do you really want your sister interrogated by the Three? Everyone is trying to head off formal proceedings that must be a harrowing experience to those involved. For example, where were you on Saint Valentine’s Eve?”
His outrage did not convince. “You dare suspect me?”
“You think the Three will not?”
“I don’t care if they do.” That was juvenile bravado and unbelievable. “I was not even in the city. I was in Padua-in jail. There was a duel and I was accused of drawing first.” Hence the sling, of course. It was probably a sound alibi and I would get nowhere by asking to see his wound.
“I hope you killed him?” Helen asked sweetly.
He turned to her in anger, but her smile can melt any man. It won a tiny, shamefaced grin. “I didn’t get near him. But I will next time.” Then he swung back to me. “If what you say is true, clarissimo , the Greek’s suicide was an admission of guilt.”
I shrugged. “My master has good reason to believe that it was not, strange as that may seem. But you are undoubtedly right if you think that the Ten are likely to accept that explanation. And in that case your grandfather’s killer will escape to enjoy the benefits of his crime. Is that acceptable to you and your honored father?”
Before he could answer, I continued. “Obviously if you were in Padua that night, you were not the killer. Your father was not in the Imer house either. But your sister was. No!” I raised both hands to hold back an explosion. “I am not suggesting that she poisoned your grandfather. But she may have seen something vital. I beg you, clarissimo, to allow us to ask her a few simple questions. It will not take long.”
Benedetto was out of his depth. He had much growing up to do yet. “Tell me your questions and I shall go and put them to her.”
I set my jaw in the notch labeled stubborn. “My master’s orders are that I speak with her in person, messer. ”
“Then you must call on her when my father is present.”
“I have only one more day to complete my investigation before I must report to the authorities. Shall I say that your honored sister refused to answer my questions?”
“That is a foul lie!”
“Then I must tell the truth, which is that she was not permitted to. Expect Missier Grande to come calling tomorrow.” I bowed and offered my arm to Violetta.
She cried, “Oh, no, Alfeo! How awful for her!”
“Wait!” Benedetto snarled. “Did you tell her that you and I were once intimate?”