Chapter 25

L eaving the hotel, Rat indicated that Melody should follow him around to the back of the building. There were already crowds of people headed to San Marco, and they had to push their way through the throngs of avid tourists headed to the Basilica and the Doge's Palace. Eventually, they came to the calle Rat believed the hotel backed onto. It was too much to hope for that they might catch sight of Herr Peetz; Rat did not doubt that even though he was less than spry, the old man was long gone. Venice was an easy place to get lost in if one wanted to.

Melody followed Rat, deep in thought. Why had Dieter Peetz run from them? The most obvious answer was that he had been involved, directly or otherwise, with the two murders. Prior to twenty minutes earlier, she would have pooh-poohed the idea that someone of Herr Peetz's age could have been the man who killed Antonio Graziano and then escaped out of the window. However, that fallacy had just been exposed when the man escaped out of the one in his hotel room; Herr Peetz was more agile than he looked.

What Melody couldn't understand is why the Austrian might have killed Silvio Verdi, a man who seemed to share his political views and wrote similar articles to the ones that Herr Peetz's newspaper published. Was it possible that there were two killers after all?

As she and Rat walked up the calle, she said, "Rat, is it possible that we have been looking at these murders from the wrong angle? Or at least a skewed one? "

Rat looked over at his sister, "What do you mean?"

"Well, we have been working on the assumption that two murders, a few days apart, must have been committed by the same man. After all, what are the odds that they're not? However, they might be connected to the same activities and yet perpetrated by different killers. Perhaps the list Antonio Graziano had in his flat was a list of journalists to target and Silvio Verdi was on the top of that list. Maybe Herr Peetz, who we believe has similar views to Signor Verdi, somehow knew that the journalist was being targeted, paid Signor Graziano a visit, and killed him. Then, as some kind of retribution, a different killer murdered Silvio Verdi."

Even to her ear, this was convoluted. If Melody had learned anything from Wolf over the years it was to keep theories simple. The more complicated and outrageous a conjecture, the less likely it was to be the correct one. It was evident, even from her view of Rat's profile, that he was suitably sceptical of her hypothesis.

"I know, I know. That really does not make much sense. If both men were part of the Risorgimento, why would Signor Graziano target Silvio Verdi? I do wish that we could have learned something more concrete from Avraham Graziano. Clearly, he knew something about the list we found, or at least had a sense what it was. Now, we do not even have that."

Rat stopped for a moment and turned towards her. "I made a copy."

"You did? Whatever made you that prescient?"

"Well, I made one copy to take to the consulate in case Mr Burrows wanted to keep it. That's the copy that he sent to London. While I was making that copy, I thought that there might be other people I would need to leave it with, so I made an additional copy. I still have that in my room." Rat had always been methodical and careful, something that the headstrong, wilful Melody often teased him about. Now, she was grateful for her brother's foresight.

They arrived at the point in the calle where the back of the hotel seemed to start. Rat remembered the layout of the corridor that Herr Peetz's room was on and counted down windows. Arriving in front of an open one that looked like the same window they had looked out of earlier, they stopped and looked around. Suddenly, Melody caught sight of a piece of paper on the ground.

Stooping to pick it up, she unfolded it and read, "I have your daughter. The Austrian pavilion. Tonight, at 11 pm. Meanwhile, I am watching you. Do not do anything stupid or talk to anyone."

"There's a daughter?" Rat asked.

"Yes. Don't you remember that Herr Peetz pointed her out at the party? Also, Luisa mentioned her in passing when I went to dinner. It sounds as if she has been kidnapped. Is that why he jumped out of the window? Because he had been warned not to talk to anyone, and our arrival scared him."

"Perhaps the note had been put under his door, and he only saw it when he returned to wait for us. Or at least that seems to make some sense," Rat suggested. He took the note from Melody and reread it. Then, he folded it up and put it in his jacket inside pocket where the list had been earlier.

"Does the fact that someone has taken his daughter suggest that Herr Peetz is the hero of our story or the villain?" Melody mused.

Rat shook his head, "This isn't a novel, Melody. We are dealing with international intrigue. It's quite possible, even likely, that they are both villains. There is a reason that the phrase ‘no honour amongst thieves' is a common one."

"What are you suggesting? That Herr Peetz is in league with whoever kidnapped his daughter and that they have now turned on each other?"

"It's possible," Rat replied with a shrug of his shoulders. In truth, he had no idea what was going on and this new twist just seemed to complicate things even further. He looked up and down the calle; Dieter Peetz could be anywhere.

"I don't think there's anything else to be done here, at least for now," he admitted despondently, shrugging his shoulders again. He had no idea what to do next, but he suspected that a more experienced operative would already have a strategy with multiple possible tactics depending on eventualities. Rat acknowledged to himself that they were in this situation because of his greenness.

Melody knew her brother very well. Even though they hadn't lived in the same house for the last fourteen years, they had still spent a lot of time together. Throughout her childhood, Melody had visited Lord Langley multiple times a week and Rat had always been welcome to visit her in the nursery at Chesterton House, something he did most days, often taking his evening meal with her. Despite her frequent frustrations with his overprotectiveness, she had never forgotten being a scared, hungry four-year-old waif on the dangerous streets of Whitechapel when her big brother provided food, shelter, and security.

Looking at her Rat now, Melody could guess the insecurities that plagued him, and she suddenly felt protective towards her brother. "Rat, this is not your fault. None of it is. I cannot imagine how anyone else might have managed this situation better."

While he knew what Melody was trying to do and appreciated the effort, he couldn't help replying ruefully, "I wouldn't even be as far as I am without your assistance. Do other agents need to rely on their younger sisters and, even then, muck everything up?"

It was clear that there was no point in trying to talk Rat out of his doldrums. Instead, Melody suggested, "Let us return to the palazzo. Perhaps a cup of tea will help us clear our heads." She thought about the corkboard that Tabitha and Wolf had long utilised to help them organise their thoughts on investigations. Did Lady Bainbridge have anything similar that they might use?

During the gondola ride back to the Dorsoduro, neither Melody nor Rat spoke, each lost in their thoughts. Finally, just before they pulled up at the fondamenta, Melody said in a determined voice, "We must go to the meeting tonight at the Austrian Pavilion."

Rat had been thinking a similar thing, but his idea differed from Melody's in one crucial aspect. "We will not be going anywhere tonight," he told her firmly. "I will be going, alone."

One of the many skills that Lord Langley had insisted Rat learn was how to use a gun. For his eighteenth birthday, his mentor had gifted him his own Webley Rat did not doubt that Melody would follow through on her threat to follow him. How much more dangerous might that be? Finally, realising that the only way he maintained any control over the situation was to accept her company, he said, "If you come with, you have to do what I say. At all times. Is that understood?" Melody nodded in agreement .

Giovanni pulled the gondola up to the palazzo for them to disembark. Rat stood, but Melody remained seated. "I am going to talk to Conte Foscari," she informed her brother. "Alone."

There was so much wrong with that statement that Rat wasn't sure where to begin. "What on earth are you planning to discuss with that man?" he demanded. "You do realise that he is up to his ears in whatever this, don't you? He might even be our killer."

Melody had been considering this for most of the gondola ride. "I do not believe that Alessandro is a killer." Rat winced at Melody's use of the man's first name. Ignoring him, she continued, "He is involved, but we do not know on what side or why. Those questions need to be asked. Given the conversation you overheard at Luisa's party, we know that Alessandro was involved with Herr Peetz somehow. They both own newspapers that have published pieces against the Austria-Hungary government's stance. That would imply that they are friends, not foes."

Rat was unconvinced. "Even if what you say is true, and that is a big if, that does not mean that they didn't kill Signor Graziano. As I said earlier, perhaps he had Silvio Verdi's name on a list because he was planning on exposing the man's sources. Maybe Graziano was in favour of the Triple Alliance. After all, his son does live in Vienna. Surely you are not claiming that murder is acceptable as long as it is of our enemies?"

Melody looked at him quizzically, "Given your role, you might want to consider what you are claiming about such a subject." She did not want to say more in front of Giovanni, but her point was obvious: government-sanctioned killing of enemies didn't only happen during wartime. If Rat wanted to work for the Secret Service Bureau in the field, he would not only have to make his peace with that reality but he might be called upon to be the one doing the killing. Was he ready for that?