Chapter 20

R at and Melody sat in Ispettore Paolo Moretti's office. The sleep-deprived inspector looked at them warily. "Explain to me again how you happened to stumble across yet another dead body," he said in Italian, which was quickly translated by the young policeman who happened to speak fluent English, who he'd managed to find on their arrival.

On the way to the police station, Melody and Rat had discussed what they would say to explain why they had sought out Silvio Verdi. Finally, they had agreed that the safest and most credible explanation was a version of the one Rat had used previously: that Lord Langley was tasked with monitoring radicals and their writings in Britain and had asked Rat to keep an eye on similar thinkers elsewhere in Europe while he happened to be escorting his sister. They hoped that Ispettore Moretti was unfamiliar with the workings of the House of Lords and that the entire story would be believable enough. Now, through the translator, Rat told that story.

Finally, when Rat was finished, Ispettore Moretti and the translating policeman, Cavelli, exchanged a few sentences before the translator turned back and asked, "This House of Lords, is it like our Senato del Regno?"

Melody knew nothing about Italian politics or its governmental structure. Still, Rat had read enough before their trip to know that Moretti was asking about the Senate of the Kingdom, loosely translated.

"Sì. Yes. It is like that," he answered.

Moretti's English stretched to understanding that answer and he asked, in his very limited English, "Who is this Lord Langley?"

It seemed that the young policeman's English did not include the terms ward and guardian, so Rat spent some minutes explaining the concept. Finally, the policeman translated what he had said into English, and Moretti nodded his head in understanding, then spoke some rapid Italian.

The translator asked, "So, you believe that Signor Verdi was one of the radicals you are watching?"

Melody and Rat had realised that this was the weakest part of their story. It was in Britain's interests that Italy not join forces with Germany and Austria-Hungary in any war, so why would Verdi's writings be considered radical?

Rat thought back to some of the pieces he had glanced at in Verdi's journal and decided that it was his other pieces on worker's rights and the evils of capitalism that made the most sense for Britain to be worried about. Rat considered Britain's current ruling Liberal party and its progressive policies. As it happened, it did make some common cause with the Labour party and its more moderate socialism. However, he doubted that Moretti had his finger on the pulse of British politics and assumed that he could gloss over these nuances.

Instead, he answered, "The British Government is worried about the spread of socialism at home and abroad. Signor Verdi's radical publication is one that our Government monitors." This seemed to satisfy the police inspector.

Melody considered whether to share her thoughts on the time of death and her rationale for how the killer managed to enter the house and shoot Verdi without the landlady hearing anything. However, with a glance at Rat, who was evidently weighing a similar decision, she decided that she wanted to remove Moretti's attention from her and Rat, not refocus it.

Instead, she rose, followed by Rat, and said, "As I said before, if you have any more questions for us, we are staying with Lady Bainbridge."

Moretti nodded and let them go. As the door closed behind them, the inspector said to the young policeman, "Cavelli, there is more going on with those two than they are admitting. I don't think they are the killers, but I don't believe in coincidences. When was the last murder we had in Venice? Two, maybe three years ago? And that was a crime of passion. Two men killed, shot within days of each other, and Miss Chesterton discovers both the bodies?"

The young man nodded along as Moretti stood and emphasised, "Non sono mica nato ieri!" No, he wasn't born yesterday, and he would be keeping a close eye on the oh so innocent-looking Miss Chesterton and her brother with a different last name.

As they walked towards the fondamenta where Giovanni had dropped them, Melody and Rat discussed this very subject. "That Inspector Moretti is no fool," Rat observed.

"I agree. He was not confident enough in his doubt to call us liars to our faces, but I doubt he believed much of our explanation. We need to be careful, Rat."

Rat knew that his sister was right. As if their task wasn't challenging enough, they now also had to be careful of arousing any more police suspicion.

By the time they had arrived back at the palazzo, Lady Bainbridge had already had luncheon and had retired for her afternoon nap. However, Rossi had thoughtfully set aside a cold collation in anticipation of their return. Gratefully, Rat and Melody tucked into various salamis and other cured meats, a variety of delicious cheeses, tomato and basil salad, and some more of the crostini with whipped salt-cod, Baccalà Mantecato, that Melody had so enjoyed at Luisa's party.

As they ate, they discussed their investigation. "Is it possible that the killer had seen Signor Graziano's list with Silvio Verdi's name on it?" Melody wondered.

"Or perhaps it was enough to see some of the articles he has published recently and that those drew our killer's attention.

Melody thought back to their conversation from the previous day. "I remember that yesterday you questioned why our killer did not murder Silvio Verdi instead of Antonio Graziano if the aim was to stop him publishing supposed proof of Austria-Hungary's secret plans for Italy. Well, now he has killed Verdi, so where does that leave us? Is it possible that Signor Graziano was somehow the one feeding Silvio Verdi material for his articles?"

Rat considered the question. "I think that we need to find out more about the other names on that list." Then he added, "This theory is reasonable except when we consider Herr Peetz's conversation with Foscari and the fact that Graziano's death disrupted their plans."

This was a flaw in their logic, but Melody's counsel was that they not focus on this contradiction for now. "Perhaps you misheard or misunderstood without more context." Begrudgingly, Rat allowed that it was possible, even if he didn't believe that he had misconstrued the conversation between Foscari and the Austrian.

Just as they were finishing eating dessert, Rossi entered the room and cleared his throat meaningfully. "There is a young gentleman to see you, signorina. A Signor Ashby. I left him in the salotto."

Given that this was Melody's second gentleman caller in as many days, she didn't blame Rossi for a slight lifting of his eyebrows as he announced Xander's visit.

"Do you think that Xander has discovered something else about Silvio Verdi after your trip to the library the other day?" she asked.

Rat laughed, "I believe that he would have asked for me if that were the case. I think it is far likelier that this is a more personal visit."

Melody blushed. While her vanity had been mildly wounded by Xander's seeming loss of interest in pursuing her, that had been her only feeling about his absence over the last few days. There was no doubt that the young Englishman did not set her heart racing the way that Alessandro did. Maybe that was a good thing, she thought, remembering their gondola ride the evening before with shame. Melody was unused to being so out of control of her emotions and particularly her actions; wasn't it better to be with someone who clearly was more enamoured of her than she was with him? Someone whose touch didn't sear itself into her flesh.

Making a decision, Melody threw down her serviette and sprung to her feet. "Please serve tea, Rossi, and tell Mr Ashby that I will only be a few minutes." She hadn't done much more than wash her hands on their return to the palazzo. Now, Melody wanted to run up to her bedroom and ensure that she looked somewhat more presentable than she suspected she did at that moment.

Luckily, Melody found Mary in the bedroom tidying up. Mary quickly brushed Melody's hair and repinned some of it, leaving the rest hanging down her back. Melody changed out of the workaday muslin dress she had worn that morning into a far more stylish, light blue one that she knew she looked very pretty in. Finally, feeling more appropriately attired to meet a suitor, she made her way back downstairs.

As Melody walked into the salotto, Xander leapt to his feet. Rat had compared the young man to an over-eager Golden Retriever dog when they had first met. Now, with his reddish-blonde hair falling into his eyes and a goofy smile on his face, Melody thought something similar and almost expected his tongue to loll out of his mouth with doggy joy.

"Miss Chesterton," Xander gushed, rushing forward to take both of her hands. "I do hope you will excuse my tardiness in calling on you again. Please believe me when I say that only the most urgent business kept me away."

Despite her previous fit of pique, Melody found that she could not be angry or even pretend to be angry with the contrite young man. To do so would be like kicking a puppy. Instead, she smiled and said, "Mr Ashby, do not give it another thought. Of course, you have been busy."

As she said this, Melody moved towards an armchair and indicated that Xander should retake his seat. Rossi had followed her into the salotto and now poured tea for them both. There was a plate of very Italian-looking biscuits that tempted Melody, even though she had just finished luncheon. Deciding that she needed to restrain herself, she nevertheless encouraged Xander to take one.

Finally, settled back in her chair with her cup of tea, Melody said teasingly, "So, is all your urgent business finished, Mr Ashby?"

"Please do call me Xander," he said. "And yes, for now, the most urgent business has been dealt with." He paused, then said in a hopeful voice, "As such, I was hoping that I might persuade you to visit the Accademia Gallery with me this afternoon. It is a great favourite of mine, and I try to visit it whenever I can."

As it happened, Melody had been hoping to visit the Gallerie dell'Accademia. Titian's Bacchus and Ariadne , which hung in the National Gallery, was one of her favourite paintings, and she knew that the Accademia had many paintings by the artist. In particular, she wished to see his The Assumption of the Virgin , a large altarpiece illustrating the Virgin Mary being lifted into heaven by angels while surrounded by the apostles. Melody was in no way a devout person, but there was something about religious paintings that stirred something in her. Perhaps it was no more than a response to the painter's fervour.

"I would love to join you, Xander. The Accademia is on my list of places I must visit while I am here. Let me get my hat and gloves. I do not believe it is far, is that correct?"

"Indeed, it is probably not even a ten-minute walk from here. It is just by the Accademia bridge, on this side of the Grand Canal."

Five minutes later, Melody and Xander exited the palazzo through the entrance that led to the Calle dei Cerchieri. Xander had offered his arm and Melody had taken it, noticing that Xander's arm under his jacket felt more muscular than she would have imagined. Trying to be surreptitious as she glanced at his profile, she noted that Xander really was quite handsome. Of course, it was a very different kind of handsome to Alessandro's sultry dark, brooding eyes, chiselled features and broad shoulders, but still a handsome face.

Melody tried to imagine bringing Xander home to Chesterton House. What would everyone make of him? She thought that Tabby Cat would like him well enough. Wolfie would appreciate that he was a man who earned his own living, however much it was due to circumstance, but what would Granny think? Melody had a nagging suspicion that the dowager countess would disapprove, though she couldn't quite put her finger on why. Perhaps it was nothing more than that she would consider him too pedestrian for Melody, who she frequently pronounced to be extraordinary. Of course, those were merely the words of a doting grandmother; Melody didn't at all feel as if she deserved such a title.