‘I don’t want to prejudice your opinion of her, Zuliani. But there is a serpent in her bosom, and I want you to tell me if she is too dangerous to bring back to Venice.’
His voice still rang in my ears. I had thought he meant his son-in-law, but now I had some inkling of what form the serpent had truly taken. I would let Galuppi do his job as he saw it, but I wouldn’t allow him to impede me in doing mine. As I approached the mansion, I could see a figure in a white dress standing on one of the balconies. Katie never wore white, and besides, she would still be with Brother Hugh. So I guessed it was Speranza Soranzo spying out the return of her husband, like a sailor’s wife who had been told some bad news. Then I suppose she saw me because she slipped back through the window.
When I entered the great chamber of the Querini mansion, she was once again on her knees in the little chapel alcove at the far end. It was as if she were deliberately reminding me of our first encounter at the monastery. And of her piety, though I wondered if she should be wearing black. Maybe she imagined herself royalty, now her father was Doge. Many queens wore white mourning garb, just as she was. Whatever her plan was, the sombre effect was spoiled by the sight of a large red boil on the back of her neck. I could see it because of her bowed head.
‘Domina Soranzo, I imagine someone has already given you the bad news. You have my condolences.’
She sighed dramatically, and held out her arm, asking for my assistance in raising her to her feet. It was all a little ponderous and imperious, and an attempt to put me in my place, but it would have been churlish to refuse the assistance. I took her weight and she rose up. Our proximity allowed me to get a closer look at her face than she might have wished. For a woman of only thirty or so, she looked quite careworn, and she clearly had plucked her eyebrows out of existence. Her face was pale without evidence of those foul lead-based whiteners some women used. Though I have heard that some women swallow arsenic to make themselves pale. Masudi al-Din told me this could result in headaches, confusion and hair loss, if not death. So perhaps Speranza Soranzo followed this cosmetic regime. She certainly sounded a little confused when she replied to my half-question about receiving news of Querini’s death.
‘Yes. Antonio told me, when he came back with the dogs. They will be so upset, you know. They loved Niccolo.’
It took me a moment to realise she was talking about the dogs. And it was probably true they loved Querini more than she did, I thought. She gave no sign of sadness at her husband’s passing, or even made an enquiry as to the cause of his death. Instead she rambled on about the dogs and Querini’s manservant.
‘He told me that when he approached the body, a cloud of blue butterflies rose up around Niccolo. It was a sign, of course.’
Of what, she clearly wasn’t going to tell me, though it rang a bell with me. Something Katie had said, but I wasn’t able to recall it. And before I could try, she cast a nervous glance towards the door of the great chamber. There had been the sound of shuffling feet, and subdued voices. It was as if she were afraid her husband might not be dead after all, and would come striding in from the strand. Instead, his lifeless body was unceremoniously borne in like someone who had passed out after a night of heavy drinking. One servant clasped him by the armpits, and another by his ankles. His head was turned at an acute angle on the leading servant’s arm. They paused upon seeing the mistress, but she waved a hand, and they carried on with their task of laying the body in the chapel. Once he had been arranged on the stone altar, she drifted over to the body, and peered closely at it as if reminding herself of what her husband looked like. Her hand went nervously to the back of her neck, where I knew the suppurating boil would be giving her pain. Then her hands closed in prayer, and I knew it was no use questioning her today. Nor would I get to examine the body more closely for a while. I gritted my teeth, and walked out of the great chamber, leaving her to her own thoughts.
‘Niccolo Querini is dead?’
Katie shook her head as she asked her question of me. I had been waiting for her in the shade of the ancient olive tree, which was set in the centre of the courtyard of the Querini mansion. I sat for a long time before her smiling face appeared in the archway. She had skipped over to me, no doubt full of what she had learned from Brother Hugh. But I had to tell her my news first, before she learned of it from somewhere else. I thought it would have upset her, but I didn’t really know my granddaughter that well yet. Her eyes opened wide, and a look of excitement pervaded her beautiful face.
‘Was he murdered?’
Trust my Katie to get straight to the point. I shrugged and waggled my head in a noncommittal way.
‘I can’t say yet. The grieving widow is with the body.’ I indicated the doorway to the great chamber and chapel. ‘Perhaps when she has completed her obsequies, she will allow me to examine him. But from what I saw on the beach, there is no way that he fell from the cliff.’
Katie squeezed my hand. ‘Tell me what you saw that made you come to that conclusion, Grandpa Nick.’
We had both already worked on the case of one murder together, and I knew how she loved the mental exercise involved. And her enthusiasm stoked the fires of my own.
‘The body was at the foot of the cliff, from where it was presumed he had fallen.’
Katie quickly interrupted me. ‘Who presumed this?’
‘Why, Galuppi, of course. He pretty much told me that was the conclusion that the Doge would want me to come to.’
‘Ohhh, Galuppi.’ My granddaughter waved her hand, dismissing Galuppi’s opinion.
I went on with the explanation for my suspicions.
‘The cliff edge is crumbly at that point where the loose soil overrides the rock. So it’s true, a fall was possible. But there was no sign of disturbance above, and no evidence of loose soil on the sandy beach. No, Querini didn’t fall from the cliff, or even get pushed. Of course, he could have died naturally of a failure of his organs. He was a heavy drinker. But I don’t believe that was the case either. I will know more when I can examine the body.’
‘Yes, we can examine it together.’
I knew that was as close Katie would get to a request to be present when I looked at Querini’s body. And to be honest, I didn’t mind the thought of having her as a companion. As I said, blood always turns my stomach. I had already allowed her to see a much more gruesome body when we explored my burned-out house in Venice for any remains. We had come across the body of a man that was no more than a blackened cinder. Katie had a strong stomach and a good eye for detail too. I nodded my agreement.
‘Now tell me what you learned from Brother Hugh.’
She laughed. ‘He showed me his most precious possession.’
I looked suitably concerned for her modesty, just as she had intended with her ambiguous comment. But it turned out that what she referred to was the relic of St Beornwyn. The finger that Great-uncle Marco had originally brought to Venice. Katie was convinced that the monk truly did revere the saint and what she stood for. He came from a small community based in a place called Carmarthen on the edge of the English king’s territories. He had been offended when Katie had called him English, and insisted he was Welsh. I had heard of these hill-dwelling people on the fringes of King Edward’s lands. Troublesome and independent-minded, they had taxed the patience of the older King Edward, now his son was not doing any better apparently. Perhaps that was why he was borrowing so much money from the Bardi and Peruzzi banks, where I had my own funds invested. If Hugh was Welsh he would be an opinionated fellow, no doubt.
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