The Medieval Murderers - The False Virgin

I grunted noncommittally, neither confirming nor excusing my opinion of him.

‘Did you find what you were looking for?’

‘No, but I have not searched the domina’s cell yet.’

With a determination that I had not seen in him before, he crossed the blisteringly hot courtyard, making for Speranza’s cell. Katie made as if to get up and follow him, but I stayed her with my hand.

‘Leave them to it. I have no doubt that Speranza has the relic. It’s just a matter of whether she will give it back to him.’

Katie nodded, then tilted her head to one side as she watched Hugh disappear round the corner of the dormitory range.

‘Did you notice something about Hugh’s robe?’

‘No, but I’m sure you have.’ Katie’s young eyes were far better than mine, and I had to rely on my wits and longer time on this earth to stay ahead of her.

‘Yes. The hem of his robe, where it brushes the ground, has a faint white mark around it just above the edge of the robe.’

I frowned, not sure what she was suggesting. ‘Well, I would guess that Hugh has only one robe, and it’s probably been dragging in the dust.’

Katie clapped her hands together in triumph. ‘No, it’s not dust. It’s more deeply stained in the brown wool than that. It’s like when a man sweats in the heat and then the sweat under his armpits or across his back dries, leaving a white mark. Only that wouldn’t happen to the edge of his robe. It looks to me like sea salt has dried around the bottom where he has got his robe wet in the sea.’

I suddenly saw what she was suggesting.

‘Or on the shoreline at Chlakopo beach, where Querini’s body was found.’

I clapped my hands on my knees and rose, rather too abruptly for my creaking knees. But I was determined on action at last.

‘Katie, tell Brother Hugh and the domina to make ready. I intend to sail for Venice tomorrow, and they will both come with me.’

‘You will take her back home along with the killer of her husband?’

I lifted an admonitory finger in the air. ‘If he is the murderer, then he will face justice in Venice. If not, well…’

I strode across the courtyard grinning, knowing that I would have frustrated my granddaughter with my unfinished sentence. The truth was I didn’t know what the alternative was. There were so many possible suspects for Querini’s murder, and I still needed to talk to a few of them. When I got back to the crusader mansion, I told all who were to travel back with me to pack for a long journey.

The first man I summoned was Antonio-Antonis. I was troubled by what the tavern-keeper had said about him. He had referred to the manservant’s involvement with Querini’s piracy, and mentioned his ‘pig-sticker dagger’. I had not given Antonis enough consideration, thinking him just a bystander to the death of his master. As I began to pull my spare clothes out of the chest, he arrived in answer to my summons.

‘You wanted to talk to me, sir?’

I looked carefully at his belt. No dagger. Did that mean he had hidden it after sticking his master through the heart? He certainly looked wary at my examination. I had no time for finesse, even if I had been capable of it in the first place.

‘Yes. Give me your dagger.’

I held my hand out with a lot more authority than I felt. If he decided to oppose me, he could easily kill me where I stood. Instead he wavered, and looked around as if for a way of escape.

‘My… dagger? Sir, I don’t wear one when I am about my duties.’

That enough was true. I could not recall having seen one at his waist, not even when I had seen him out with the dogs at the scene of Querini’s murder. But I needed to be sure he didn’t have the sort of dagger that could have made the small but deadly wound to Querini. And if he was the killer, I could not leave him free on the island after our departure.

‘Except when your duties are standing side by side with your master robbing honest traders of their goods.’

His face went deathly pale at my accusation.

‘Who told you that?’

‘Never mind who did. I can see from your face that it is true. Where is the bassillard you used to stick in the heart of those you robbed?’

My reference to the sort of narrow, slender-bladed dagger that could have done for Querini seemed to puzzle Antonis. He fell to his knees, clutching at my fur-trimmed robe.

‘I don’t now what you mean, sir. Yes, it’s true my master persuaded me to help him once or twice. But I never killed anyone. None of us did. It was enough to wave a good heavy sword in the air, and they usually let us take what we wanted. A little bassillard would have had no effect on them, sir.’

I believed the grovelling servant, and extricated my robe from his grasp. I told him to go, and he would hear nothing more of this. He gasped out his thanks and ran from the room. I felt confident I could eliminate him from my list of suspects, as I had thought all along. Had I not seen there were no signs of a struggle on Querini’s body, and no cuts or bruises on his knuckles? If Antonis had turned on him, he surely would have put up a fight, even drunk as he had been. Querini’s dogs had been another indication of his innocence. Domina Speranza had told me how much they had loved her husband. If Antonis had already been out walking them when he encountered his master and then had slain him, the dogs would have been more agitated around Antonis. And if he had killed Querini without the presence of the dogs, it would have taken a stout heart and great cunning to leave the scene of the murder, walk back to the mansion, collect the dogs and ‘accidentally’ discover the dead body. No, Antonis was off my list of suspects.

As I was completing my preparations for the return to Venice, Bertuccio Galuppi strode into my room.

‘What’s this I hear? We are to return to Venice all of a sudden? Does this mean you have satisfied yourself of the domina’s suitability to present herself before the Doge, her father?’

I grinned in a way I hoped was enigmatical. ‘Indeed. I am assured of her almost virginal status, in fact.’

Galuppi didn’t know what I was talking about, having not been a party to the details of Katie and my examination of Speranza Soranzo’s relationship with Brother Hugh. But of course he knew of the monk’s existence after I had made reference to him as the domina’s possible lover. So, unsure whether he was being mocked, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

‘You mean the monk will be coming back with us, too?’

‘Oh, yes. He is an essential part of my plans for Domina Soranzo’s return to Venice.’

Galuppi shrugged in resignation. ‘Then I shall ready myself for the journey.’

He turned to leave, and I was tempted to confront him with my knowledge of his trip to Kamares, and his meeting with Stefano the oarsman. But I wanted to face them with that fact together. On board ship and before we reached La Serenissima would be time enough. In fact, I was confident that, with all my suspects on board, all would be revealed before our return. If it wasn’t, I would have failed in my mission for the Doge.

It was the following day before we got to sea. It took longer than I thought to move all the baggage across the island to the harbour, and then to load it. I noticed that Captain Doria’s ship had left, and hoped that he would carry out my request to pull my money out of the two banks. I would be only a few days behind him, but those days might be all it took for the banks to crash. We were also delayed by a row over the allocation of cabin space. The domina wanted her own quarters, and the best ones too. Galuppi, Katie and myself had to take second best. In the end the captain of the ship reluctantly gave up his cabin, and everything was settled. But by then it was too late to set sail, so we spent an uncomfortable night on board waiting for the morning. The oarsmen, including the debtor Stefano, had gone back ashore and spent the night in various taverns around the quayside. Their pulling on the oars in the morning had therefore been sluggish at best. But at last Sifnos had disappeared over the horizon, and we were on our way towards the southern coast of Greece. Here we would rest and reprovision before heading north for La Serenissima.