For a moment there was silence, but it was too uncomfortable to last.
“I assume you have Pulaki Guarana locked up?” I asked.
“I will see he is there tonight.”
“And Domenico Chiari, the interpreter?”
“Never heard of him.” Missier Grande ’s basilisk stare dared me to call him a liar. I didn’t. “Just between us two, sier Alfeo, who do you think your master is going to accuse?”
I was not going to fall into that trap. Any opinion I ventured would be held against me by somebody. “I honestly do not know, Missier Grande. I have learned never to try and outguess the Maestro.”
A glare from Gasparo Quazza would strike terror into Medusa. “If he is so frightened of having the name mentioned beforehand that he does not even tell you, his trusted apprentice, does that not suggest that the person he will accuse is someone of importance?”
Of course it did. It might also suggest that the Maestro thought the murderer was possessed. Karagounis might have died to save another demon from exposure and eviction. Mentioning that theory would land me in even worse trouble.
“Being a doctor, he regards everyone as being of importance, Missier Grande.”
The silence was now deadly. Fortunately at that moment my dear friend Filiberto Vasco flew in, cloak swirling. He shied back when he saw me and bared his teeth like a horse. He was sweating like one, too, from his run up all those stairs.
“It’s more bad news,” Quazza told him. “The chiefs have agreed to let Nostradamus organize revels. The host doesn’t know it yet and none of the guests will want to attend. So you have to accompany this pest around the city and make sure everybody understands they are under absolutely no compulsion to cooperate, but if they don’t show up their absence will be noted. Attendance is purely voluntary, but God help those who stay away. No threats, though. Understand?”
The vizio ’s eyes measured me for the rack. “And when do I get to extract the real story from Alfeo Zeno? Soon, please?”
“Tomorrow, perhaps. If his master doesn’t pull off another of his miracles tonight, Their Excellencies will be very upset. Then I think we can certainly bring Alfeo in for questioning.”
Vasco smiled hungrily. “I look forward to it.”
“So do I. I’ll take the first hour. Carry on.” Missier Grande Quazza went back into the meeting room.
21
T he Lord be with you, Vizio,” I said politely.
“You may need Him more.” Vasco flinched at Bruno’s troglodyte leer. Bruno knew him and even had a sign for him, but he also knew that sometimes Alfeo did not like him, and Bruno disapproved of such people. Since Alfeo was presently smiling, the vizio must be a friend now, so Bruno was happy.
“Come along and let’s get it over with,” I said. “I’m fussy about the company I’m seen with.”
As we went down the stairs, I explained the situation in more detail. I could hear the lash count going up inside his head: sixty, seventy…When we reached the loggia, he was chalky white with fury.
“You think that I am now under your orders?”
“Well, Missier Grande certainly told me you were, but warned me not to say so, because the news might provoke you to excessive secretion of black bile. I’m sure you’ll do fine, as long as you’re properly respectful so I don’t have to reprimand you in front of witnesses. Your boat or mine?”
“Yours. You sank mine, remember?”
We trotted down the giants’ staircase and marched across the courtyard to go out by the Frumento Gate, directly to the Molo. The fog was still heavy, and people would loom into view and then veer suddenly when they recognized the vizio almost upon them. Even the normally unflappable Giorgio was startled to see his new passenger and bowed to him. I told him Ottone Imer’s house, and off we went. Vasco left the outside, damp, benches for Bruno and joined me on cushions in the felze, sitting at my side as if he was about to bite off my ear.
“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.”