Dave Duncan: The Alchemists pursuit

Left…

Of course Alina would be wearing black; she probably did not own a garment that wasn't black. She could embroider, so she could sew. She could make a Carnival costume, or a friar's habit, or a nun's. Violetta had tried to see Sister Lucretzia and had then sent her a note. I had a sudden nightmare of her sitting alone in her apartment-she who never sat alone in her apartment-receiving word that there was a nun downstairs asking for her. Could even Alina be crazy enough to try to enter a brothel dressed as a nun? Was that what had caused all the laughter I had heard?

Left…

I wished I had a transcript of the family gathering last Sunday. Like the Council of Ten eight years ago, like even the Maestro and me now, the Michiels had recoiled from believing that a woman could commit such deeds herself. The Michiels had closed ranks in the name of family solidarity, all except Sister Lucretzia. Today that decision had been reversed and the senior brothers had driven Jacopo out into the wilderness.

Right…

Where was Jacopo now? In a cell in the palace? Escorting donna Alina? I wished I had brought my sword.

Left…

I raced along the straight to the T junction where I had first met my mysterious cat helper. I swung left around the corner and a lantern was uncovered right in my face, dazzling me. I stopped dead.

"Well, well!" said Filiberto Vasco. "We have a rat in our trap."

A man behind me laughed and more lanterns were uncovered. I had run straight into the oldest, simplest trap in the world-Missier Grande comes to the front door after staking out his vizio to watch the back. For a moment I just stood there and gasped for breath, too mad at my own folly to say a word.

And this was not just bad luck. Ca' Barbolano had been the target, not Number 96. The vizio had put his sbirri, four of them, to block the way to the campo. They were armed with matchlock pistols-private citizens may not own firearms. He himself had taken up position in the other arm of the T, the way to 96, to prevent any breakout in that direction. Or perhaps to stay clear of the fighting, if any. If he had been lying in wait for fugitives from the direction of the brothel, he would have put his men around the corner I had just turned.

"Where is the book, Alfeo?" he said. "Hand it over, there's a good boy."

"The Maestro has it," I said. "Look, we've identified the murderer, the one who's been killing-"

"I've warned you before not to meddle in matters that do not concern you. Give us the book."

"I don't have it!" I yelled. "The killer is heading for Number Ninety-six, may even be there already, and I must go and-"

"The only place you are going tonight is jail, boy." Vasco is no older than I am. Furthermore, he is only citizen class, so he should treat me with the respect due a patrician, but he was very sure of himself this time. The law arrives and someone flees: what could be clearer evidence of guilt? Run from hounds and they will chase you. He had me cold at last. "I won't ask you again."

"I do not have the book! Look, just take me along to the brothel door and let me pass in the warning and then I'll take you back to Ca' Barbolano and give you the damned book, and the name of the murderer, and evidence to prove who killed Caterina Lotto."

I could see Vasco's smirk, because his face was illuminated by the lanterns of the sbirri behind me. Also by twilight, for, while he had a tall building on his right, there was a courtyard to his left, and the wall of that was barely more than head height.

He sighed with deep regret. "It seems we're going to have to search you. Take off your clothes now, Alfeo, or I'll have the lads strip you."

Seek salvation from on high.

I looked up. The cat was lying on top of the courtyard wall, watching me with golden eyes. If there is a fourth time, the Maestro had said, the stakes will be very high. Violetta was in mortal danger; for me the stakes could not be higher. This time I would not wait for Felix to volunteer. I would ask for help if it damned me.

"Look out!" I yelled, and jumped back.

Of course Vasco looked up, and the cat came down on his face.

"Rabies!" I screamed. "Get it off him! Oh, please don't let it bite him! Rabies, rabies!"

Alas, I was not at all sure that the sbirri could hear me over the racket coming from Vasco as his face and hands were shredded. Nothing is feared more than rabies, so it seemed unlikely that any of his men would dare go close enough to help him. Unable to endure the terrible sight, I dodged past him and sprinted for Number 96.

Right… As I turned the corner, I heard a pistol go off behind me like thunder. I hoped that the shot had been intended for me and not to put Vasco out of his misery, but firearms kick so much that he would not have been in much danger, even at point-blank range.

Then a quick Left…

As I raced along the final straight to the watersteps, I could see gondolas going past the watersteps at the end of the calle. It felt like hours since I had noticed Missier Grande's boat approaching, but in fact it had been only minutes. Now the convocation of boatmen was leaving the neighborhood like a flock of pigeons. When I stepped through the land door into the loggia, only four of them remained, hanging onto columns so they could lean out and watch what was happening next door, at Ca' Barbolano.

Unobserved, I went on, into the brothel. There it seemed that the news had not yet arrived. Matteo loomed enormous on a stool between two young hostesses wearing what could only loosely be described as clothes. From the somber expressions on all their faces, I guessed that he was telling them about Caterina's murder. The women jumped to their feet to greet me with enormous fake smiles. Matteo looked hard at me, taking in my alarm.

There was another guard present, leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, and him I did not know. He was armed.

"Has a woman come in?" I shouted.

"Who's asking?"

I started to explain, and was drowned out as Matteo and the two women both started to tell him who I was.

"The killer is a woman!" I yelled. "Has a woman come in?"

I moved closer.

The guard whipped out his sword.

"Yes." Matteo came in on his left and punched him once on the side of the head.

Once was plenty and I dodged him as he fell. Then I went up the stairs as if shot from a mortar, three steps at a time, hearing the pounding of boots as Matteo followed. I was relieved to see that Luigi was one of the two men guarding the door to the piano nobile, but they both drew their swords.

This time I did not shout. "The killer is a woman! A woman's in there?"

Luigi nodded and reached for his keys. "A widow lady. Arrived just a few minutes ago. Sent in a note. Violetta said to let her come up, it was all right."

"It is not all right!" I said, pushing past him and leading the way to Violetta's door. I moved gently, though, for Venetian terrazzo floors tend to bounce slightly and might alert the intruder that a Crusader army was on the way.

Luigi turned his key very quietly in the lock. The door did not move.

"It's bolted!"

Matteo slapped us both aside with a two-armed gesture, clearing a path. He backed up to the wall behind, then hit the door like a war galley ramming. The door shuddered, as well it might. He backed up again, and slammed it again, and that time I think he would have gone through a brick wall. Nine two-inch screws ripped out of seasoned timber and the door flew open. He stumbled through with Luigi and me right on his heels.

Hearing a stream of oaths, curses, and abuse from Violetta's salotto, we ran that way. And there they were, Violetta and donna Alina, down on the floor, both screaming, wrestling for possession of the khanjar dagger. Alina was on top and the dagger was hovering over Violetta's face, but Violetta was holding it away from her. Fortunately I did not have my sword with me, or I would have killed the madwoman on the spot. Instead I grabbed her by the forearms, heaved her off her intended victim, slammed her right wrist against the edge of a table to make her drop the knife, and then threw her into a chair.