Chapter 16

T he following day, just after lunch, Rat set out for the British Consulate. He remembered Xander telling him that it was in another palazzo on the Grand Canal. He hoped that Giovanni would know where.

Luckily, the ever-helpful Giovanni did know where he meant. Within fifteen minutes, the gondola was pulling up to an ornate, Gothic-style building with pointed arches and intricate decorative mouldings scattered liberally across its facade. It wasn't quite as palatial as Lady Bainbridge's palazzo, but it was charming, nonetheless.

Disembarking from the gondola, Rat walked up a few steps to a large oak door with an ornate copper knocker on it. A very British-looking young man answered the door, and when Rat brandished his letter from Lord Langley, the man indicated that Rat should follow him. They went through another door into a corridor that looked more suited for royalty than for British civil servants. Marble busts were lined up at regular intervals down the corridor, and portraits of serious and important-looking men covered the walls.

The young man walked Rat up to the third door, knocked, and then opened it. Rat was surprised to see Xander Ashby sitting at a large mahogany desk that was covered in papers.

Xander looked up, evidently equally surprised. "Mr Sandworth, what a surprise. Did we have a plan to meet that I have forgotten?"

Rat wasn't sure why he was surprised to see Xander. He'd known that the man worked for the consul, but he hadn't realised that his role was private secretary, as it seemed to be.

"No plan, I assure you, Ashby. I decided to take you up on your offer to visit. Actually, I have come to speak with Mr Burrows."

Xander raised an eyebrow slightly. "I hope everything is alright with you and Miss Chesterton," he said.

"Nothing is wrong. There is merely a matter I need to ask his opinion on."

Xander paused, then replied, "Unfortunately, the consul's day is very busy. Perhaps I can help you."

Rat considered the offer. He liked Xander Ashby and, despite Lady Bainbridge's warning, wasn't opposed to the idea of the young man courting his sister. What Lady Bainbridge had failed to consider when giving her counsel was that, despite being raised in the home of an earl and having a large, independent fortune, Melody was still the orphaned child of impoverished parents from Whitechapel. Given this, Xander Ashby, with his aristocratic lineage, was a fine catch for his sister. He knew that her interest in Xander was lukewarm at the moment, but he did not doubt that she could be persuaded with the right amount of wooing.

Despite his partiality towards Xander, Rat was not sure he was comfortable making his request of anyone other than Mr Burrows. One thing that Lord Langley had drilled into him over the years was the importance of keeping the circle of information as small as possible. The more people who knew something, the greater the chance of a breach of confidentiality, however inadvertent. He was only prepared to confide in Edwin Burrows because of Lord Langley's absolute confidence in the man.

Finally, a decision was made, Rat pulled out his letter from Lord Langley, though he didn't remove it from its envelope. "I really do need to speak to Mr Burrows immediately. I have a letter from Lord Langley, a very old friend of his, vouching for me and asking the consul to provide me with whatever aid I need."

It was clear from the look on Xander's face that he longed to know both why Rat needed such immediate help and why Lord Langley believed himself to be able to command that assistance. Instead, he held out his hand for the letter.

Fighting an almost overwhelming urge to remove the letter from the envelope and read it, he nevertheless knew that to doubt Rat's word was to insult his honour as a gentleman. Instead, he said, "I will go and show this to the consul. Please be patient while I speak with him."

In fact, it was barely any time at all before Xander reemerged from the room behind his desk. Returning the letter to Rat, he said a little tersely, "Mr Burrows is happy to give you a few minutes of his time." Saying this, Xander re-opened the door he had just shut behind him and invited Rat to enter.

The consul's office was so sumptuous that Rat wondered whether the Prime Minister's office could rival it. The furniture looked as if it wouldn't be out of place in King Louis XVI's Versailles, and the curtains were a deep, red-coloured velvet with a gold brocade. The wallpaper had red and gold stripes that added to the very regal air of the room.

Dominating the room was a large, imposing desk that was as different from Xander's in its utter lack of clutter and papers as could be imagined. Sitting at this desk was a rather unimposing middle-aged man who looked every part the civil servant he was. Rat was a big fan of Charles Dickens's work, and one of his favourites of the author's books was Bleak House . When he looked at Edwin Burrows, Rat immediately thought of the Dicken's character, Mr. Snagsby. While not a civil servant himself, Edwin Burrows perfectly fitted Dickens' description of Snagsby as "A mild, bald, timid man with a shining head and a scrubby clump of hair sticking out from the back of it." The similarity was so strong that Rat had to try hard not to smile at the thought.

Mr Burrows rose and held out his hand, "Mr Sandworth, I presume?"

Rat shook his hand and confirmed his identity.

"You may leave us, Ashby," Mr Burrows barked curtly .

Xander mumbled something and shut the door behind him. For just a moment, Rat wondered if the private secretary would eavesdrop on their conversation. However, he quickly reminded himself that Xander was a professional civil servant and surely knew better than to listen in on his employer's private conversations.

"So, you are Langley's ward, are you?"

"I am. I assume you read the letter?"

"Indeed. I will forever be in Langley's debt. Private matter from many years ago now. Suffice it to say, the man knows he may call on my help whenever he needs it. So, how may I help you?"

Rat had considered how much to reveal. He knew that Lord Langley's letter hadn't laid out either his own or Rat's role in the Secret Service Bureau. However, it had been challenging to think of how he could make his request while giving nothing important away.

Reflecting on what he'd previously decided, Rat said, "I need your help identifying some names."

Rat hoped that he might leave it there and that the consul would not ask any more. He was to be disappointed. "May I ask why you need this?"

Rat inwardly sighed. "I have reason to believe that they may be an important link in a murder investigation."

"Are you a member of the police force?" Mr Burrows asked, screwing his face up in confusion.

"Not as such," Rat admitted.

"And is this murder of a British subject? If so, I am not sure why I do not know about it."

"It is not," Rat answered, feeling increasingly uncomfortable both with how much he was stretching the truth and how much he was giving away.

"Then it is the murder of a Venetian. And you have some official interest in this murder that is not connected to the police force," Burrows stated rather than asking.

"I do," Rat admitted, then added, "I am afraid I cannot tell you more than that."

"I have total trust in Langley, and he seems to put similar trust in you. If you say it is important and yet you cannot tell me why, I will take your word for that. All I ask is that, if at some point this does involve a British citizen, you will inform me."

Rat agreed to this, if only because he doubted that anyone British was involved besides Melody and him. He had written out the names from Graziano's list on a fresh sheet of paper, and now he handed this to Mr Burrows, who took it and spent a minute or two reading.

"These all seem to be Italian names," he observed. "I am the British consul. Why would you ask me about Italians?"

"Well, firstly, because I hoped you might recognise some. But mostly because I have no one else to ask."

Burrows looked over the list more closely, then reached into his desk drawer and drew out a newspaper. Flicking through the pages, he finally stopped at one and said, "I thought that I recognised this first name. Silvio Verdi. I make a point of getting the local newspapers to glance through it. My Italian is serviceable. As well as writing for this more mainstream newspaper," he said, gesturing with the hand holding the publication, "I believe he publishes a more radical journal."

"When you say radical, what exactly do you mean?"

"Well, there are many loud voices encouraging Italian imperialism these days. At the moment, these voices are advocating for war with Turkey. A unified Italy is only fifty years old. As a youthful power in Europe, there were many Italians who sought colonial expansion within Northern Africa and believed that they should directly challenge the Ottoman Empire. However, as in Britain, there are also those who believe that Italy should direct its resources to domestic issues such as social reform and poverty. Silvio Verdi is one such voice. From what I understand, he was unable to publish his more radical opinions in the mainstream Venice newspaper, so he started his own publication. I don't remember its name."

"Do you have any copies of this journal by any chance?" Rat asked hopefully.

"No. I am sorry I do not. However, I assume that the Marciana Library, or as the Italians call it, La Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana, will. It is located in St Mark's Square. I tell you what, I'll send young Ashby with you to show you where it is and help you navigate the almost certain Italian bureaucracy you will encounter there. And his Italian is not bad at this point. They will also have back issues of the other newspaper, if you need them."

"And you don't recognise any of the other names on the list?" Rat pressed.

"I do not. Can I show this list to anyone in Venice?" Mr Burrows asked.

"I would rather that you don't at this point. If you do have any more thoughts on any of them, please let me know."

"What about this? I am sending a diplomatic pouch back to London this afternoon. I could put this in and see if anyone back in the Foreign Office has any clue. But it'll take at least four days to get there and back, and that does not include time for review of your list. This will not be a quick solution."

Rat considered his options; while what the consul was suggesting wasn't going to be fast, it was also the only reliable and secure way he had to get the answers he needed at this point. He still had the original copy of the list, so he wasn't losing anything by taking Mr Burrows up on his offer.

The offer was accepted, and Mr Burrows walked Rat to the door. Xander was seated at his desk in the outer office and expressed his willingness to accompany Rat to the library.

Mr Burrows' final words to Rat were, "I will have my aide, Nicholls, send that information to London immediately."

Xander looked up, seemingly worried that someone else was being entrusted with important work. Mr Burrows smiled and said, "Not to worry, Ashby. You will be doing the more vital job of aiding Mr Sandworth with his research. Nicholls' Italian is negligible. Better he get the more dogsbody work of sending the pouch out. "

Mollified somewhat, Xander led Rat out of the office. As they walked back down the corridor to the gondola, which was to take them to St Mark's Square, Xander asked casually, "Are you trying to find anything in particular?"

Rat didn't see any harm in telling the truth, and Xander's Italian could come in handy. Of course, he didn't share the entire story, merely that he was trying to learn more about the writings of a particular journalist and that Mr Burrows had suggested that the library would keep back copies of publications.

Xander didn't say much in reply, merely nodded. "What is the name of the journalist?"

"Silvio Verdi. It seems he is something of a radical."

Xander again made no reply for a few moments. Finally, he asked, "May I ask why you are so interested in this radical journalist?"

Rat didn't have a good response to this that wasn't the truth. Thinking on his feet, he said, "My guardian, Lord Langley, is, of course, a member of the House of Lords. He has been tasked with monitoring radicals and their writings in Britain, and as part of this, he is keeping an eye on similar thinkers elsewhere in Europe. Given that I was coming here anyway, he asked me, as a favour, to do a bit of research."

Once he'd said this out loud, Rat was quite proud of himself; it was a credible backstory for some of the poking around he would be doing over the next few days. Certainly, Xander didn't seem to question it.