The Medieval Murderers - The Deadliest Sin

Later that afternoon, Zuliani found Katie in her room still reading Dante Alighieri’s book. He asked her if she was busy that evening. Of course she didn’t tell him she had overheard his whole conversation with Francesca Este, and already knew it was a case of murder he was investigating. So she was surprised when he seemed to hesitate over asking her assistance.

‘It is nothing very much, and you may be unwilling to give up your nice warm bed.’

‘Oh, Grandpa, now you are intriguing me. Is it something really… exciting?’

‘Noooo. I just need your help with a small matter that needs more than one pair of hands. But maybe I should not bother you with such a trifle.’

By now, Katie was getting nervous about him withdrawing his request for assistance. Perhaps he was afraid to put her in danger. But then, hadn’t he already involved her in more than one murder investigation? And hadn’t she seen some gruesome bodies already? She insisted she would not be inconvenienced even if it was a very minor business. Whatever his thinking was over being so uncertain, he began to tell her his plan.

‘We will wait until it is dark, and make our entry when the sentries are at their lowest ebb physically and mentally. Some time between matins and lauds will be best.’

Katie laughed. ‘What do you know of those monkish hours? You’re usually snoring then after a late night of drinking.’

‘I’ll have you know I am well acquainted with those night offices. The damned chanting in the Church of San Zulian used to wake me up often enough when I was a child. So, if we are to get up then, we should emulate our religious brethren and retire at compline.’

Katie pulled a face at going to bed at such an early hour, but Zuliani insisted. He got up to leave, but had one more word of advice.

‘It would be well done if we were to dress in dark clothes, and in your case in the apparel of a boy, like you so much seem to enjoy doing.’

He was making reference to the fact that before they had actually got to know each other, Katie had stalked him dressed as a youth in order to be inconspicuous. And on another occasion, she had done the same thing when called upon to pretend to be his page. But it was true – she did like the freedom of wearing leggings, and not having her limbs encumbered by a heavy dress, and she took every opportunity to do so. She grinned broadly, for she had already thought to dig her boy’s clothes out of the chest at the foot of her bed. Zuliani grunted and left her to her change of wardrobe.

After a few hours, when neither of them slept well, they were both sneaking through the dark towards the Arsenale. Katie was in the top and leggings of a boy, and Zuliani in his best black jaqueta , which Cat had had made for him. It had been intended to make him a sober-looking individual for the Council of Ten campaign, and Katie was astonished he was intending to wear it for the secret assault on the walls of the Arsenale. So she told him so, but he waved away her objections with a disdainful hand.

‘It is the only garment I possess that is black, and besides, it will come to no harm.’

But then, standing as he was at the rusty, half-open gate round the back of the great basin, he began to doubt his certainty. To gain access to the gate, they had first to edge along a narrow stone ledge set above the dank, smelly canal. The waterway ran from the basin, and was in every sense – including that of smell – a back passage out of the Arsenale. While Zuliani paused, Katie skipped nimbly on to the ledge.

‘Here, let me go first.’

He didn’t make a move to stop her, and watched as she inched along and came up the old, iron gate that hung half off its hinge. Grasping one of the round eyelets that formed the top part of the hinge set into the wall, she swung easily round the obstruction and got her feet on the continuation of the ledge on the other side of the gate. She settled her feet in place, and beckoned Zuliani.

‘Come on. It’s easy.’

Zuliani expressed a lack of belief in her encouragement with a groan. Katie held out her hand, and waved him on. He stepped on to the ledge and began to inch closer to her. Grasping the same rusty eyelet, he paused and then swung round as Katie had done. Unfortunately, Zuliani’s weight was greater than that of a seventeen-year-old girl and the fixture began to pull out. He groaned, and scrabbled for the ledge with his leading foot. Placing it on the stonework, he grabbed his granddaughter’s offered hand and, as the eyelet wrenched free, concentrated on transferring his weight from the unreliable metal peg to her. For a long moment, they both almost overbalanced into the murky waters, then with a lurch they were safe on the ledge. The rusty gate, freed from its moorings, fell into the water with a splash. They tried to still their fast and heavy breathing, and stared into each other’s eyes. But no cries of alarm came from deeper inside the Arsenale, where the guards were located, and they breathed more easily. The clumsy break-in had so far gone undetected. They finished their traverse along the ledge to gain the easier ground of the quayside proper where Baglioni’s ship still rode proudly at its moorings. Zuliani brushed the rust off his hands, and indicated silently that they should proceed to the tall building next to where it was moored.

Using the shadows, they gained the large archway that formed the entrance to the storage sheds. The heavy oaken double doors looked intimidating, but Zuliani tried the small wicket gate set in the right-hand one and found it opened easily. It seemed no one was expecting intruders in the basin. They were inside in a moment, and closed the door behind themselves. The storehouse was almost pitch-dark, with only the weak light of the moon shining through a barred window set high on the rear wall. Zuliani cast round for a lantern, but there wasn’t one.

‘We shall have to take a risk and leave the door open or we won’t see what we are looking for.’

He turned back to the wicket gate and opened it again. It cast a little more light into the interior, and Katie peered around.

‘What are we looking for?’

‘Whatever it was that held the ship low in the water before it was removed.’

‘What if it was just stones?’

Zuliani sighed. ‘Then we shall find a pile of stones and be none the wiser for our adventure. But I don’t think it will be stones, or why did they bring the ship into the Arsenale before emptying it?’

They began to shuffle around in the darkness, reaching out in front of themselves to avoid bumping into anything. It was Zuliani who made the first discovery – with his shins. He cried out sharply as the corner of something substantial cracked his old bones, but then quickly changed his mood.

‘Look at this.’

Katie moved over to his side, and felt out for what had barked his shin. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, they saw what it was. He had bumped into the first of a long stack of wooden boxes, all of the same size. He looked around, and in the light from the door saw what he was seeking. A long metal bar with a flattened end that the dock workers used to prise open crates. He grabbed it, and jammed it under the lid of the nearest box. Prising the wooden slats upwards, he eased out the nails with a frightening screech. The furtive pair waited with bated breath, but could still not hear any sound other than the soft lapping of the waters against the quay. Further effort pulled the nails free, and the lid came away easily. Zuliani looked inside and gasped. Katie peered over his stooped shoulder.

‘It’s a king’s ransom.’

Inside the crate was a heap of gold coins, gold ornaments and gold bars. Even in the soft moonlight they glowed seductively. Zuliani eyed the contents of the crate, and then looked at the stack. Katie could tell his brain was calculating the accumulated worth of the pile of crates, if every one was as full of gold as the one he had opened. He gave out a low whistle.