Chapter 14

D uring the walk back to meet Giovanni at the gondola, Melody and Rat discussed what to do next.

"I believe that we need to search that flat as soon as possible," Melody said thoughtfully.

Melody told Rat that she'd been impressed with Ispettore Moretti. They had both heard Wolf and Tabitha complain about London's Metropolitan Police's incompetence and sometimes even venality. Rat certainly remembered Bruiser, long dead now, but once the epitome of a policeman who played both sides of the law.

"Ispettore Moretti struck me as an intelligent man who would not discount an idea just because it was expressed by a woman. His sergeant, I think his name was Vinditti, was another matter. It was all he could do to control his eye-rolling as I spoke. While Moretti listened to my thoughts on why this was not a robbery, I got the impression that Vinditti would be happy to write this off as such. I do wonder whether he will take the time even to search Graziano's flat."

"Regardless, I believe that we need to do so sooner rather than later. If nothing else, at some point, his sons will want to go through his possessions and perhaps even sell the bookshop."

They were each amazed by the other; Melody couldn't believe that Rat had not tried to dissuade her from investigating further and was willing to collaborate, and he couldn't believe how insightful his little sister was. Initially, Rat hadn't really stopped to wonder why Melody had wanted to go to the Ghetto to learn more about Antonio Graziano. Instead, he'd just marvelled at the lucky coincidence that his sister had been the one to stumble into the scene of a murder that had been discussed by two men he found particularly suspicious. Now, what amazed him was not this lucky coincidence but rather the thoughtful, intelligent observations that Melody had made.

As much as Rat had envied Wolf's friendship with Bear over the years, he'd also admired the professional partnership the man had formed with Tabitha. It had taken Rat some time and maturity to recognise the strengths that Tabitha brought to that relationship: her keen intellect, logical mind, and enormous empathy, which allowed her to put herself in the shoes of suspects and imagine what might have driven their crimes. As he and Melody walked through the twisting streets of the Ghetto, a brief thought flashed through Rat's mind: his sister was more like Tabitha, Lady Pembroke, than perhaps he gave her credit for.

Rat never doubted that his sister was intelligent; that had been obvious when they had first arrived at Chesterton House, unable to read and write. Four-year-old Melody had learned her letters and numbers almost as quickly as her older brother and had been able to best him at chess by the time she was six. Rat was not one of those who considered men above women in all ways that mattered. He had far too many intelligent, resourceful women in his life to ever be that hubristic. Yet, he had never shaken off the role of protective older brother who always knew best. Now, for the first time, it occurred to Rat that perhaps that would no longer be the case.

Melody and Rat realised that they needed to look through Signor Graziano's belongings immediately. Between his time working for Wolf when he was thief-taking and then his time studying under Lord Langley, Rat had learned many valuable skills, not the least of which was lock picking. This was a skill that a trained intelligence officer needed as much as an East End criminal did. Out of habit, Rat always carried a small lock pick in his pocket and today was no exception. A thought flashed through his mind: how to explain to Melody such a skill and his ready access to the necessary implement?

Perhaps it was believable enough that he remembered how to pick locks from his days working with Wolf. Melody certainly knew the stories of those days, even if she barely remembered her time living on the streets of Whitechapel. Could he just gloss over the pick in his pocket? Arriving at the bookstore after a gondola ride back from the Cannaregio district, it appeared that the answer was, yes, he could. If Melody wondered anything, she said nothing as he pulled out a small set of lock picks from his pocket and deftly picked the lock of the bookshop door.

Rat had been worried about passersby on the street or neighbouring shop workers. He needn't have been concerned. By the time they had arrived at the bookshop, it was almost time for the shops to close and their workers were too busy shutting up for the day to wonder about Melody and Rat.

Slipping into the shop, Melody shivered; it was eerily quiet. Though, on reflection, was it really any quieter than it had been when she had first visited, and Signor Graziano had been busy in the back? Not really. However, just the knowledge that a murder had taken place there recently made the murky, dusty shop feel disquieting.

"Do we want to search the shop first, or start with the flat?" Melody asked.

Rat considered the question: did the killer come looking for something? If so, did he find it, or was that why Graziano was murdered? Either way, looking around the messy, overstuffed bookshelves, he couldn't imagine where they would begin in the shop.

"Let us start with his flat," Rat decided. This then led to the question: how did they get to it?

Melody thought about the day that she and Luisa had visited the bookshop and had gone through to the back of the shop looking for the elderly bookseller. She thought about the dark blue curtain that separated the shop's front and back. Had there been a small staircase hidden in a dark corner? She thought maybe there had been. Indicating that Rat should follow her, Melody made her way back in that direction. Just as she went around some particularly overloaded bookcases and walked into the dark alcove that led to the curtain, she saw a pile of boxes stacked in the corner and there, just behind the boxes, was the staircase that she had thought she remembered.

There wasn't much room to walk between the boxes, and Melody wondered how the frail and doddering Signor Graziano managed to squeeze through. The staircase was very narrow and twisting, and as Melody and Rat made their way up it, Melody again wondered how the elderly man managed this every day. The staircase led into a room that was as gloomy and dusty as the bookshop. A plate was on a small table and still had some bread and cheese that was turning mouldy, and a dried-up slice of apple on it.

"It seems as if Signor Graziano had been interrupted while he was having his lunch," Melody observed. No sooner had she said that than she considered the implication of her words. "I told the police inspector that I believed that Signor Graziano may have known his killer, and certainly hadn't been surprised by him. This seems to confirm that theory."

Rat looked at his little sister with bemusement. "How can you possibly extrapolate that from a rotten apple?"

As Melody talked, she continued to take in the rest of the living room. "Luisa and I must have arrived here at perhaps eleven-thirty in the morning. So, the killer must have had Signor Graziano in the office by the time we arrived."

"How can you know that?" Rat asked, mystified at his sister's leaps of logic.

"Well, we called out to Signor Graziano about twenty minutes after we'd been in the shop, and when he didn't reply we went back to the office and found him dead. My theory is that the killer heard us call out, and that's why he escaped out of the window instead of just walking back out through the door. It was evident that the two men had talked, and I found a cigarette butt that was quite burned down, so the conversation had been of some length of time. I am sure that if they had walked down the stairs while we were in the shop, they would have heard us. It is hard to imagine that the murderer would have just ignored the presence of two potential witnesses in the shop. Therefore, they must have already been in the office."

Rat replayed what Melody had just said and couldn't find any flaw in her logic. Considering the scene in front of them, she continued, "So, perhaps Signor Graziano was up here eating. The killer came into the shop, couldn't find him, called out and then our victim came down the stairs, and they went into the office to speak." The half-eaten meal implied that the old man hadn't been expecting his killer, but had he known him?

Deciding that they would not discover the answer to that question by looking at the plate of food, he turned and took in the rest of the room. It was a small, untidy, but not uncomfortable space. The walls were lined with bookshelves that were even more haphazard and dusty than the ones below. Apart from the table and the one chair by it, there was an old, sagging armchair that had seen better days. The stuffing was coming out of multiple holes, and the fabric was almost totally worn down. There was a small, equally old, threadbare footstool by the chair and a scratched and battered small side table.

On this table was a folder. Melody walked over and picked up the folder. Opening it, she found a few sheets of paper. One seemed to have a list of names on it with a few dated columns next to them. There were X's next to some of the names. The other sheets of paper had various things scrawled on them. Still, the combination of Antonio Graziano's handwriting and their limited Italian meant that Rat and Melody had trouble deciphering the words.

There were a few phrases that were underlined. Looking at one, Melody said, "This isn't in Italian, it's in German. Or to be precise, it's a mixture of the two. Looking more closely, she continued, "I see the names Hermann Hesse and Thomas Mann. I think that at least some of these are German books."

"Well, Graziano was a bookseller. It would make sense. Did you see German books when you were perusing his shelves? "

"Honestly, it is such a jumble down there, and I was not really looking for them. Perhaps…" She considered the list in her hand, "Perhaps these are names of people who have ordered the books and the dates they were delivered."

That certainly made some sense, but there was something about the list that niggled at the edge of Rat's mind; he just couldn't think what it was. Then, he considered the conversation he had overheard between Conte Foscari and Herr Peetz, a conversation he hadn't told Melody about. Now, he considered just how much he might be able to share with his sister without divulging his mission in Venice. After all, he pondered, he had accepted her help, but how much use would that be if she was missing vital clues?

Finally, he made peace with his decision and admitted, "During Marchesa Casati's party, I overheard Herr Peetz talking with Conte Foscari about Senor Graziano's death."

Melody knew her brother well and it had been evident that he was weighing whether to share something with her. Whatever she had imagined he might be about to confide, that was not it. Rat continued, "Herr Peetz said ‘Graziano is a huge loss for us,' and then Foscari said something about being worried that this mean their plan had been discovered."

"What do you think they meant?"

Melody considered how she wanted to answer Rat. It was no secret that he had not liked Alessandro Foscari from the first moment they met. It had also been evident that he had been immediately suspicious of Herr Peetz. Melody had long known that Lord Langley had trained Rat to be a cryptologist, and she had begun to wonder recently whether his role had developed into something more. While Rat believed that Melody had no idea about the work that Lord Langley did for British Intelligence, he forgot how much time she had spent in the man's company as a child.

People often assumed that children weren't paying attention or didn't understand what was being discussed around them. However, Melody had always been an observant, bright child, and it had been evident to her for a long time that Lord Langley, or Uncle Maxi, as she referred to him, did some kind of intelligence work for the government. That he had been mentoring Rat in cryptology merely confirmed this. It wasn't a giant leap to imagine that Rat had progressed to other covert activities.

If Rat had been able to read her thoughts, it might have occurred to him to wonder why he had assumed that she had no idea about Lord Langley's role and, by extension, his own.

Finally, Melody decided that she was tired of pretending that she had no idea what was going on and said, "Do you think that Herr Peetz is involved in espionage for the Austrian government and that he is working with Conte Foscari?"

This was precisely what Rat thought and he wasn't immediately sure how to answer. Was this the espionage the British Government suspected was taking place? Of more immediate concern was the fact that Melody had intuited what was going on, or at least what Rat thought was going on. What else did she know? He reminded himself that just because Melody had guessed his suspicions, it didn't mean that she knew about Rat's role and his mission in Venice. Still, how to admit to the former without alluding to the latter?

Finally, unable to think of a better way to handle the situation, he simply said, "Yes. That is what I believe to be the case."

"I find it hard to believe that such a nice, sweet old man is up to anything so nefarious," Melody said in a determined voice.

"Well, an Austrian spying for Austria is hardly nefarious any more than an Englishman doing so for our government," Rat pointed out. "As for Senor Graziano, well, Italy's position in Europe is rather nuanced these days, to say the least. Britain and Italy have some colonial rivalries, and our government views Italy's naval build-up with caution. And, of course, Italy has been part of the Triple Alliance with Germany and Austria-Hungary for many years. Though it is generally believed that its loyalty to those countries is not solid. After all, the movement for Italian unification, I believe they call it the Risorgimento, was at least in part a revolt against Austrian rule; including of Venice and the surrounding area."

Usually, Melody had little interest in history. Still, in the context of her murder investigation, she was glad that her brother had bothered to pay attention to his history lessons at least.

Rat decided they should take the folder and its papers with them. They looked around the rest of the flat but didn't find anything else of interest. Melody pointed out a medal on proud display and briefly wondered in what war Antonio Graziano had fought. Rat shrugged his shoulders, and with that, they left the flat.