Dennis Wheatley - The Rape Of Venice

Everything having been, satisfactorily settled, as Roger had been riding for a good part of the night he said that he would like a few hours' sleep; so Villetard took him to the room he had previously occupied while at the Embassy, and promised to provide him later with a suitable costume in which to go out.

At three o'clock he was called by a valet who had brought up a variety of clothes for him to choose from. Instead of his military boots he donned buckled shoes and white stockings, with a pair of nankeen breeches to go above them, then selected a wine-​coloured tail-​coat that was a little large for him, but would serve well enough. The cloaks were light in weight but enormous garments that would wrap twice round a man, had to be kept from trailing on the ground and had deep double collars. The masks were grotesque, covering the whole face, and having long hideous noses. As the Venetian nobility had not yet taken to the fashions brought in by the Revolution, they still wore high-​sided, richly decorated tri-​corne hats, and the one that fitted Roger best was edged with ostrich feathers round its rim.

When he had finished dressing, carrying the cloak, mask and hat, he went down to dine with Villetard, who told him that as the season of masks now enabled anyone to come to the Embassy in daylight with no more risk of being recognised than at night, he was expecting Malderini at five o'clock. That suited Roger, as he had work to do and it gave him an excuse to make himself scarce immediately after the meal.

Having collected everything necessary from Villetard's secretary, he went up to his room, locked himself in and sat down to write a report for Mr. Pitt. He could send no piece of information that was of startling value but during the past six weeks he had acquired a great quantity of miscellaneous data about Boneparte, his political trickery, and the people round him, which would be read with much interest in Whitehall. His final page was on the present situation, and he said that, although he had been given to understand that Mr. Pitt favoured an independent Venice, his own conviction was that the future prospects of England could be better served if the city was handed over to the Austrians; and that, while he had no great hope of influencing events, even at the risk of his master's displeasure he intended to work for that end.

In it he had given no indication that he was on Boneparte's staff, or had been living at his headquarters, and he did not sign it; so if it was captured, even the similarity between the English and French versions of his name would not give a clue to the identity of the writer. Only his handwriting could give him away, and the odds against both the report falling into French hands and his writing being recognised were sufficiently long to be an acceptable risk; or at least one which he had to take in the service of his country.

When he had addressed and sealed the document, he wrapped a second parchment cover round it and, having sealed that too, wrote 'John Watson Esquire, Personal' on it. Then, putting the bulky package in an inner pocket, he buttoned his coat over it, put on his cloak and mask, and went downstairs.

The report had taken three hours to write, so it was now a quarter-​past eight o'clock. He was told that Villetard had gone out about an hour before and was not expected back until his usual hour for supper, which was half-​past ten. Roger told the doorkeeper that he had a mind to spend an hour in the Piazza San Marco, so one of the Embassy gondolas was whistled up to take him there. The weather, as is customary in Venice in October, was still mild; so a band was playing in the Piazza and the usual crowd sauntering, flirting, and exchanging greetings or gossip.

For half an hour he sat at a table outside Florian's, immune from recognition behind his hideous mask, sipping strong black coffee and a golden liqueur. Then he had a gondola take him to the first bridge over the Trovaso Canal. From there, on foot, he twisted his way back, temporarily losing his way twice, through a score of narrow turnings, until he reached the British Consulate. After he had pulled the bell it clanged hollowly, but before the clanging ceased the door was opened by the same footman who had answered it to him before. This time he did not tip the man. His richly feathered three-​cornered hat made that unnecessary. In Italian he brusquely demanded speech with the Consul.

The man bowed him into the low pillared hall, and asked him to be seated. Two minutes later Mr. Watson came out to him. For the servant's benefit, as he bowed he announced himself as the Marchese di Piomboli. Mr. Watson returned his bow and asked what he could do for him. As soon as the servant had gone, Roger removed his mask for a moment and said in a whisper, 'I am the Arab perfume seller. Can you get a despatch to London for me?'

The lanky, red-​haired Mr. Watson nodded and whispered back, 'I trust so. Our people are still getting through. If all goes well, it should be there in under three weeks.'

Roger quickly passed him the despatch, pressed his hand and turned towards the door. With no further word said, Mr Watson let him out. In a nearby canal he picked up a gondola and had it take him again to the San Marco. After strolling there for ten minutes he got another which took him back to the French Embassy. He had timed things excellently and arrived just as Villetard was sitting down to supper.

Over the meal, Roger learned to his delight that Malderini had swallowed the bait. He had gone home to summon the conspirators to a conference for that night, and had expressed no doubt about their being prepared to risk everything on this chance to secure Boneparte's person.

For them, the prospect of coercing him into signing documents upon which he would not be able to go back without looking a fool was far better than anything they could ever have hoped for. Malderini's knowledge that the General-​in-​Chief was already in the city, and the promise of information about a place at which he could easily be captured a few nights hence, they would believe to have been obtained by heavy bribery from an official at the French Embassy; so the principal matters for discussion at the conference would be, who should act as spokesman to General Boneparte in order to obtain his signature to the required documents, and where should they hold him prisoner while the orders extorted from him were being carried out.

Roger went to bed feeling soberly satisfied with the progress he had made to date. It was a great relief to have got his report off to Mr. Pitt, as there could be no telling when, if ever, he would be able to send another. But he kept on examining his plan from every angle, for one could never be quite sure that every possibility had been thought of, or that some unforeseen factor would not suddenly arise to throw everything out of gear. And he had one very serious cause for worry. Boneparte had stipulated 'no scandal', but to make certain of getting Malderini into the trap he had been compelled to have rumours circulated that the General was making a visit incognito to Venice, and take steps to ensure that when the Princess Sirisha was kidnapped his name should be linked with hers. To have used the authority Boneparte had given him over Villetard for his own ends, and entirely contrary to the General's interests, was a flagrant breach of trust. When the little Corsican learned about that, as he was bound to do, unless it could be justified by a motive that he would accept, he would fly into one of his terrible rages and Roger might find himself back in the Leads.

Another matter that worried Roger considerably was the fate of Malderini's co-​conspirators. The great majority of the Venetian upper class had conclusively proved themselves to be spineless decadents, but these people must surely be the exception to the rule. Some might be ambitious men, prepared to gamble their lives against a chance of power should they succeed in bringing about a restoration of the old regime; others, no doubt, were fanatics, egged on by their father-​confessors to strike a blow at the new government of atheists; but among them there must be a number of real patriots, and all of them must be accounted men of courage. That they, of all Venetians just because they had allowed themselves to be caught in the web of the treacherous Malderini, and because Roger, in the hope of serving his country and to revenge himself, had to smash it should be the ones who had to be sacrificed, seemed a gross injustice. He could see no way to avoid that and the thought of it plagued his conscience severely.