Alex Connor - Isle of the Dead

Answer: Vespucci. I’ve told you, he’s back – and he’s killing again.

The dealer held his breath, his hands shaking as he typed out the next words.

Jobo: What are you talking about?

Answer: I’m talking about Seraphina di Fattori, Sally Egan and Harriet Forbes. Shall we chat again tomorrow, Mr Kido?

And with that, he broke the connection.

Sweating, Jobo wiped his forehead. The stranger had used his name! But how the hell did he know who he was? Had he given himself away? Or was the man enough of a computer geek to track his email address? Jesus, Jobo thought, alarmed, he was really out of his depth … Unnerved, he walked over to the window. Opening it, he breathed in the humid Tokyo air, but it seemed thick and tasted of tar. The absurd heatwave was glowering over the autumn trees, making their branches calligraphic symbols against the burning sky. And as he wiped his palms the first few drops of rain began outside. Then they stopped, drying on the bleached pavement below.

In the past, Jobo Kido’s fascination with murderers had only ever gone so far. It was true he wanted the Titian, but his admiration for evil had always been from a distance. At close quarters, it was terrifying. How did the man on the website know about the killings? And how had he connected them to Angelico Vespucci?

Jobo tried to calm himself. The murders had been in the news, on the internet – anyone could have found out about them. A fanatic could easily have made a connection with Vespucci. The present-day killer had skinned his victims, so had Vespucci. Some unbalanced mind could easily have paired the acts.

Some unbalanced mind could just as easily have committed them .

Uneasy, Jobo moved back to his seat. He thought fleetingly of Farina Ahmadi and wondered if he should call her, but dismissed the notion. She would just mock him. And if she didn’t, would the news tip her off, help her find the portrait? Likewise Triumph Jones … Jobo flicked over the pages in his diary, trying to engage his thoughts on anything that wasn’t Vespucci. But it didn’t work. He had no interest in lithographs any more – all his concentration was on the exchange he had just had over the internet.

Did the man really know where the Titian was? And if so, could Jobo somehow bypass his rivals to get it? The thought excited him. What risk wasn’t worth the chance of securing the portrait? He paced the room restlessly, knowing that, like last night, he wouldn’t sleep. Instead he would be waiting for his next website conversation.

A conversation with a freak. Or a killer.

27

St Bartholomew’s Hospital, London

Having developed a chest infection, Gaspare Reni was kept in hospital, and Nino stayed at the convent gallery. He had tried to contact Sally Egan’s family, but had been told that her only living relative – her father – had Alzheimer’s and had been admitted to a nursing home. Further enquiries led him to Jean Netherton, who had helped to care for Mr Egan, and Nino had left her a message to get in touch with him.

In the meantime, he continued reading through the Ravenscourt notes. His research had been meticulous, thorough, dozens of little additions in the margin giving away his contacts.

Visit the Victoria and Albert, for painting … Check British Library for Joseph Hardone’s book, Diary of The Grand Tour, Volume 2.

And on page 56 of the second notebook, he had written –Sir Harold Greyly, Courtford Hall, Little Havensham, Norfolk. (Check him out for more information on Claudia Moroni.)

Apparently the lead had not been followed up, because there was no further reference to Harold Greyly. Instead, Johnny Ravenscourt had looked into the life and times of the Contessa di Fattori.

When they were not directly referring to Vespucci, his notes had resumed their usual jaunty tone:

The Contessa di Fattori was beautiful by all accounts. Red-haired and striking. Allegedly Titian’s model for ‘Danae with a Nurse’, she was immoral and debauched. Married to the withdrawn Count, she bore him a son (?) and took numerous lovers. Her maid was from the Orient and apparently taught her various sexual skills. Certainly it was known that di Fattori often visited the courtesans in Venice, not only to have sex with them, but to learn their techniques.

Nino gazed at the model in Danae with a Nurse : her knowing look, the easy way she exposed her nudity, one arm lying on a pillow, her left hand between her legs. She had certainly been beautiful, but there was no resemblance to Seraphina. Her descendant had been slender and dark-haired, without any of the pulsing eroticism of the countess.

Turning back to the notebook, Nino continued to read.

She was accused of witchcraft, but escaped punishment, various powerful men coming to her aid. (She also took one of her maids to court for theft, insisting that the woman be banished from Venice.) When her husband lost money on a fleet of ships which sank with his property, the Contessa applied to Pietro Aretino for help.

Nino looked at Aretino’s portrait: a fat, greedy-looking man, with cunning eyes.

Not long after there is a record of the Contessa taking Angelico Vespucci as a lover, circa 1554. (Rumour has it she bore him a son, but this is not proven. Check the facts on this.) Their affair became the talk of Venice, the Contessa sharing her favours with Aretino and Vespucci at the same time. During one magnificent party, the trio put on an exhibition for their visitors, the sexual antics all but visible behind a transparent veil. On another occasion, gondolas were hired to cruise the Grand Canal, the couples in them making love in full sight. From the doorways and balconies people watched, throwing money to the most adventurous lovers.

In revenge the Contessa’s husband took a courtesan lover from the Jewish Quarter. (Check name on this? Rena? Caterina? Nothing definite about this. Seems she came to work as a servant and was hired as a courtesan.) Some sources say she was an older woman, some say no more than a child. Certainly she had come from Milan. The count and Vespucci shared her favours.

Suddenly the phone rang beside Nino and a familiar voice came down the line.

‘I’ve just got back to London. How are you getting on?’ Johnny Ravenscourt asked, the dogs barking in the background.

‘Pretty good.’

‘You all right for money?’

‘Yes, fine, thanks,’ Nino answered, glancing at the papers in front of him. ‘I’m just reading about the Contessa di Fattori. Personally I’m surprised her husband didn’t kill her.’

‘There was a theory at the time that he hired Angelico Vespucci to murder her—’

‘Hired him? Why would he need to pay someone as rich as Vespucci?’

‘He wouldn’t. I imagine The Skin Hunter would have done it in the name of friendship … I suppose you’ve seen the website? The one that’s just gone up on Vespucci? angelicovespucci.1555.com. ’ He laughed, but the sound was strained. ‘Whoever put it up certainly knows a lot about him.’

‘Anything you didn’t already know?’

‘No!’ Johnny replied shortly. ‘I’m the bloody expert! I’ve spent years on Vespucci and now some upstart thinks he can set up a website and steal my thunder. Bastard.’

Amused, Nino tried to mollify him. ‘Should I look at it?’

‘Suit yourself,’ Johnny said, his tone sulky. ‘To be honest, I emailed the site, but no one’s come back to me yet. They’re on to the Titian though. They know the portrait’s turned up.’

Leaning back in his seat, Nino listened. His doubts about Johnny Ravenscourt were not lessened by the news of the website. Perhaps he had set it up himself, pretending there were other interested parties, other suspects. What was surprising was that the site announced the re-emergence of the Vespucci portrait – but then again, hadn’t Johnny Ravenscourt been one of the first to know about it? Hadn’t Seraphina told him? Certainly none of the dealers – Jobo Kido, Farina Ahmadi or Triumph Jones – would have deliberately made the news public.