Neither had my master, so he couldn't scold me for being unobservant.
"It is not the sort of uplifting literature I associate with nuns."
"Nor I, master. She had just come from the family reunion. Either someone gave her the book at the house or she stole it. The casket has no lock, just a ward-you spread both hands on the lid and say, 'My dearest treasure.' That's all; easy enough to spot if you know about such things."
"Why?" he demanded, eyes narrow.
"Why did she steal the book? I don't know."
"Why do you think she stole it?"
I had met all these people; he had not. "Assuming Lucretzia was told about the murdered courtesans-and I think they were the subject of the family gathering-she must recognize the book as evidence that someone in Palazzo Michiel is at least involved and likely the actual killer. Whether she intended to destroy the evidence and changed her mind, or knew that Fedele was going to stop in here and try to prevent you from investigating their father's death… or perhaps Fedele himself put her up to it. What do you think?"
"I need to see her," he muttered.
I refrained from uttering mocking laughter. "Even Violetta couldn't talk her way into Santa Giustina. Probably Lucretzia was allowed out to visit her family only because her brother asked. An abbess won't talk back to a priest, but she'd surely set the dogs on people like you and me."
Nostradamus sat and glared at the offending book. "This thing is poison! I don't see why it hasn't provoked more killings already. I ought to have you take it straight to the palace and give it to the chiefs of the Ten."
"I'll take my rowing clothes with me." I wasn't joking, much. The galleys were starting to seem like a real possibility now.
He did not deign to answer. After a while he started tugging at his goatee, which is a sign that he is thinking hard. I quietly opened a drawer and took out Johannes Trithemius's Steganographia so I could get started on the numerology home-work my master had set me five days ago. The learned abbot of Sponheim instructed us in how to send messages to specific angels, and after about an hour, when I was seriously considering an appeal for help to Gabriel, Nostradamus at last emerged from his reverie.
"Damnatio!"
"Master?" I closed the book on a finger.
"Donna Alina seems to have faith in me. She could have given the book to her daughter to deliver to me."
"If she is not the killer…" I had not quite rid my mind of that assumption. "Why the nun, though? Surely a nun should hurl such smut into the nearest canal?"
"Because Lucretzia is the only one Alina trusts?"
I gulped and said, "Yes, master," humbly.
"Get me the knight of cups!"
"Er…?"
"Vitale's solution was to be the knight of cups reversed, you said? Get him. Bring him."
Somewhere a shutter opened… "Ah! The cavaliere servente?" I should have seen that Jacopo might fit the "solution" card in the reading I had made for Violetta, but I hadn't met him when I did it.
"Of course. Bring him and I'll reverse him."
"How far may I turn the screw?"
"All the way to the headsman's ax."
I pursed my lips in a silent whistle. He rarely gives me so much leeway.
"If he won't come, any second-best?"
"No, it must be Jacopo. And I want Vitale here when he arrives."
"Master, Violetta never rises before noon!"
"Then waken her. This is urgent. Tell her to dress like… provocatively."
"You're not asking for much," I murmured, but I couldn't have been quiet enough, because he glared at me. He expected me to drag a natural-born citizen away from whatever he was doing as if I were a Council of Ten sbirro. And also dictate how Violetta was to dress, which was even more dangerous. Tactics would be important. I marked my place in the thrilling Steganographia, selected pen and paper, and wrote a brief note, which I rolled up and tied with a ribbon.
"I think I'll go armed, if you don't mind."
No reply. I set off to fetch my sword. As I stepped out into the salone, someone rapped the door knocker.
It was early for visitors. It was even earlier to see Fulgentio Trau active in the world, but from the look of him he had been on night duty, guarding the doge's bedchamber. He was clearly a bearer of bad news. He spoke no greeting, smiled no smile.
"The doctor awake?"
I nodded and stepped aside to let him enter, ushered him into the atelier.
Nostradamus moved as if to rise, for a ducal equerry far outranks him.
Fulgentio raised a hand in forbiddance. "Please stay, Doctor. I bring a very brief message to you and to your apprentice. It is from 'a high official,' but I am forbidden to say whom." He glanced at me to make sure I was also listening. "I am instructed to tell you both that this is your last warning, and you are granted this mercy only because of your many past services to the Republic. You must stop asking questions about the death of Gentile Michiel. You will disregard this warning at your peril, both of you."
Fulgentio shrugged, and muttered, "That's all. Sorry."
As he turned away, the Maestro said, "Wait!"
"Doctor?"
"I would take it as a great favor, lustrissimo, if you would deliver a very brief note to the distinguished person who gave you that warning."
Fulgentio smiled sadly but warily. "I will gladly try, of course. But I may not succeed and I doubt very much that it will do any good."
"Understood," the Maestro muttered. "Alfeo?"
I strode across to the desk and readied my pen and inkwell in record time, choosing a sheet of our finest rag paper.
"Two lines should do it," he said. "I give my sacred word that I have no interest in previous crimes and my only intent is to prevent future murders. Sign it for me."
I pursed lips in a silent whistle of astonishment. If the old miser was sincere in abandoning the Gentile murder contract, then he was voluntarily giving up a significant fee for the first time in my experience. I went off to the kitchen for a lighted candle. When I returned, I affixed his signet, then handed the letter to Fulgentio.
"And tell them that goes for me, too, with brass buttons," I said.
He gave me a look that said I was walking on a razor's edge. He bowed to the Maestro and headed for the door. As I let him out of the apartment he said, "For God's sake, make him be careful!" and then trotted off down the stairs.
I went back to the Maestro, who looked as if his fuse had burned down to the touchhole and he was ready to explode.
"Any instructions for today, master?"
"Aargh!"
Not promising. "That warning came from the doge himself, I think."
"I don't."
"Oh! Master, have you any idea why the Ten don't want you to investigate this affair?"
He repeated, "Aargh!" even louder.
"You are keeping secrets from me." I was hurt. I knew everything he did; what had he seen that I hadn't?
"Some things are too dangerous to know. Just because you are my apprentice, you are not required to break the law. The instructions I gave you a few minutes ago still stand, but if you refuse to obey them, then I am helpless."
"I'll get my sword," I said, and departed.
Violetta had only recently gone to bed. Even little Milana's normally unshakable good cheer faltered when I gave her the message I brought.