Chapter 27

D ear Diary, whatever am I going to tell Rat? He dislikes Alessandro, though why I cannot say, but he formed an immediate distrust of the man. Once he hears what I have to report, his reaction will merely feed off that distrust. To say that I just believe Alessandro will hardly suffice. However, I do. The question Rat has every right to pose is: why does my instinct to trust Alessandro trump his distrust? I have no good answer to that. I am trying not to let my attraction to the man colour my judgement. However, if Rat knew about what had happened in the gondola, he would not only be furious, but he would never trust my defence of Conte Foscari again.

I am unsure how to view my visit to Alessandro's palazzo this afternoon. One thing that I believe I can say with certainty is that, after hearing me speak, he was disabused of the notion that I was merely a lovesick young girl fabricating a reason to call on him. Nevertheless, I am not sure that I advanced the investigation at all. Perhaps that is not entirely true; he vouches for Herr Peetz, and if I believe Alessandro to be innocent of the murders, then surely it follows that I should take his endorsement of the Austrian seriously.

Of course, perhaps Alessandro does not know everything about Dieter Peetz. However, the man we confronted earlier today seemed scared, not dangerous. Diary, I do trust Alessandro's judgement about Herr Peetz. And if I do, where does that leave us?

Rat will be furious, but sitting there with Alessandro, I decided to tell him about the note we found alluding to the kidnapping of Fr?ulein Peetz. His reaction was interesting; he became quite still and even quieter as if he were deep in thought. Finally, he asked if Rat meant to go to the Austrian Pavilion tonight and when I said that we both were, he said, "I beg of you, Miss Chesterton, leave this alone." That was really the end of our conversation. I do not know what to make of it. Alessandro neither provided a rationale for his plea nor a promise that he intends to come to Herr Peetz's aid. But is that what he plans?

By the time Melody had finished writing in her journal, she had a headache. She remembered Rat once alluding to the early days of Tabby Cat's involvement with Wolfie and how they'd had reason to distrust Lord Langley. She knew that there had been some incident involving her that had cemented that distrust for some time, though no one would tell her exactly what happened. Yet, somehow, over a matter of a few months, the relationship between them and Lord Langley had gone from deep distrust, even dislike, to its polar opposite. Indeed, within a year, their feelings had so metamorphosed that Lord Langley was named as Melody's joint guardian with Bear in the event of Tabby Cat and Wolfie's death.

Melody reflected on what the transition period from deep distrust to utter faith must have felt like. Of course, Tabby Cat's emotions were not clouded by attraction to Lord Langley, or at least that was Melody's assumption. Did that make the move towards trust easier or more difficult?

Realising she was wool-gathering when she should be telling Rat about her visit, Melody put her diary away and steeled herself. On her return to Lady Bainbridge's palazzo, Melody had rushed to her room to collect her thoughts. However, she knew that she couldn't avoid her brother for much longer, and more to the point, they needed to discuss their plans for that evening.

Melody found Rat in his bedroom, sitting in an armchair in front of the unlit fireplace, deep in thought. Looking up at her entrance, he said nothing, merely raising his eyebrows in question.

Sitting in the other armchair, Melody summoned all her courage and confessed everything. Despite his evident growing irritation, even anger, Rat said nothing until she had finished. Then, shaking his head in exasperation, he sighed and said, "How could you be so naive, Melody? There is no good reason to trust Foscari and many reasons not to. It is bad enough that you insist on accompanying me tonight, but now you have added a whole new layer of danger to the expedition by alerting the conte."

Trying to avoid a repeat of their ongoing argument about Alessandro's trustworthiness, Melody instead suggested, "Perhaps it is time to alert Ispettore Moretti to what we believe is going on."

Rat's feelings about this suggestion were evident on his face before he spoke. "To do so would be to admit that I am unable to handle this investigation alone on behalf of the British Government," he said in a tight voice.

"Rat, Lord Langley had no idea what he was sending you into when he asked you to accompany me to Italy. Do you truly believe that, if he had, he would want you to manage such a situation alone? We are dealing with a cold-blooded murderer, after all."

Despite himself, Rat smiled. "But I am not managing alone, am I? You insist on accompanying me." His tone may have been lighter, but the set of his mouth made evident his continued determination to handle this situation without asking for help from the Venetian authorities.

By this time, it was just past five o'clock in the afternoon. They had barely five hours to arrive at a plan for disrupting Herr Peetz's rendezvous at the Austrian Pavilion. Melody looked at her brother who, despite his posturing as the more worldly, mature one of the two of them, was not much older than she was. It was clear from the note that they had intercepted that a young woman's life was now at risk. Melody did not want to doubt Rat and certainly didn't want him to feel she had no faith in his abilities. Nevertheless, how could she justify not doing everything she could to rescue Herr Peetz's daughter?

The more she pondered her predicament, the happier she was that she had told Alessandro about the abduction. He seemed like the kind of man who could handle any situation. At least she had to hope that he could. In the end, Melody couldn't find it in her heart to secretly contact Ispettore Moretti against her brother's wishes. However, she hoped that Alessandro would consider doing so.

There was an awkward silence. Melody's evident doubts about her brother's ability to handle their situation hung between them, heavy with her fears and his insecurities. It became so uncomfortable that when there was a knock at the door, Melody sprang up, eager for any excuse to leave the room.

"Miss Melody, that nice young Mr Ashby is downstairs to see you," Mary announced. She knew both the siblings so well and could tell that words had been exchanged. However, a slight raising of her eyebrows in Melody's direction was the only comment on the situation Mary would allow herself.

Melody was so eager for an escape that she rushed out of the room and downstairs to see Xander without even wondering why he was visiting. That time in the late afternoon, almost early evening, was at the very edge of what polite society considered acceptable for a social call. She assumed that Xander hadn't been invited for dinner; surely Lady Bainbridge would have mentioned that. Also, it was far too early for a dinner guest to arrive. Only as she was about to enter the salotto where Rossi had said that the young man was waiting did she pull up sharply and wonder if their kiss the day before had somehow provoked this visit.

Trying to compose her face into the kind of neutral, bland expression that Granny had said one must always wear during social calls, Melody forced herself to enter the room. Xander stood by the fireplace with his back to her. Hearing someone enter, he spun around and, on seeing that it was Melody, his face broke into a smile of such sweet devotion that, at least at that moment, she forgot all about her kiss with Alessandro. Wouldn't it be lovely to be looked at in that way every day? For a brief moment, Melody imagined looking at that handsome, adoring face every morning over tea and toast and every night before she fell asleep.

Xander crossed the room in a few long strides, took both her hands in his and brought them to his lips. "Miss Chesterton, please forgive me, but I could not stay away. After yesterday, well, you know, I…" he stammered, getting redder in the face with every mangled word.

Finally, taking pity on the young man, Melody extricated her hands and said kindly, "You never need to ask forgiveness for paying me a visit, Mr Ashby. Xander. I hope that you and I are good enough friends that we need stand on no such formalities."

As she said this, Melody sat on the sofa. She was rather taken aback when, instead of sitting in one of the nearby armchairs, Xander sat down next to her and took one of her hands.

"Miss Chesterton. I would like us to be more than good friends. I would like to court you, if that is agreeable to you."

The pronouncement was so old-fashioned and quaint that Melody had to fight the urge to smile at his words. Not that Melody had much experience of such things. However, at least said by Xander, asking for permission to court her seemed like something that might have been said when Tabby Cat was a girl, perhaps even further back in Granny's time. Melody wasn't sure if she should be charmed or put off by the anachronism. Suddenly, she was flooded with the memory of Alessandro's kisses, his arms around her, the fire that coursed through her body at his touch. Shaking her head to try to dispel such thoughts, Melody decided that Xander's old-fashioned charm was, if not preferable, then safer.

Making up her mind, Melody said quickly, before she could second-guess herself, "I would like that very much, Xander."

The young man moved a little closer to her on the sofa, gently put his arm around her waist, and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. It was a nice embrace that didn't confuse Melody at all. The kiss didn't cause her heart to pound, her palms to sweat, nor make her want to throw all caution to the wind. Just as with their kiss the previous day, it was safe, comfortable, and easy. The kind of kiss Melody could easily imagine enjoying for a lifetime.

Just as Melody was ready to lean further in towards Xander and encourage him to greater heights of passion, the young man pulled back. "Miss Chesterton, Melody, might I have the pleasure of taking you out for an early dinner this evening? I do have some important consulate business I have to take care of later, but I can certainly spare a few hours for your charming company."

Melody thought about all the precious time she was wasting just entertaining Xander now and how much planning was needed if she and Rat were to turn up prepared at the rendezvous spot later that evening.

"Xander, under normal circumstances, I would love nothing more. However, I also have some tasks I need to accomplish this evening. In fact, I should be applying myself to them even as we speak. I would love to take you up on the invitation tomorrow night, if that is convenient for you, that is."

Retaking her hands, Xander looked into her eyes, utter infatuation suffusing his features, and told her that it would always be convenient for him to spend time in her company. And after uttering those words, Xander left.

Melody sat for some minutes contemplating the courtship she had just agreed to. She did not love Xander, of that, there was no doubt. However, there was something about Xander Ashby that reminded her of the safety and security she had always felt around Wolf and Lord Langley. While the dowager rarely advocated for marriage these days, one piece of advice she had given Melody when she had turned seventeen was, "It is always best to be loved more than you love in return." Reflecting on this advice, Melody decided that, even if she never matched Xander's adoration, it would not be unpleasant to spend a lifetime as its recipient.

Finally, realising that she was wasting even more time on such thoughts, Melody instead put her intellect to better use by considering how best to manage the situation she and Rat were walking into later. For that was the large question mark hanging over their plan to interrupt Herr Peetz's appointment at the Austrian Pavilion: what were they walking into? Was the person who had abducted Fr?ulein Peetz their murderer, or was it possible that this was wholly unrelated to the killings? It seemed unlikely, but it was possible. Perhaps Herr Peetz had gambling debts, and the kidnapping was an attempt to force repayment.

Rat had suggested that Herr Peetz and their killer might have been in league and were now turning on each other. As much as she allowed that to be a possibility, it didn't feel right to Melody. She thought about their meeting earlier with the Austrian. He had not seemed unhappy to see them when she and Rat had first approached in the hotel dining room. It was only once Melody had accused him of being involved in the smuggling of stolen documents in Vienna and suggested that he might have something to do with Signor Graziano's death that the man became agitated. She considered his words, "You do not understand." His reaction had not seemed disingenuous but rather an authentic, heartfelt response. He might have denied all knowledge of what Melody had accused him of, but he hadn't. He didn't deny the basic facts she had laid out, only her interpretation of them.

Then Melody reflected on their visit to the Graziano house that morning. When she had first let slip that she and Rat had broken into the bookshop to search Signor Graziano's flat, his son hadn't been overly concerned. What had agitated Avraham Graziano was the mention of the list. And then she remembered his reaction to the news of Silvio Verdi's death and her intuition at the time that Avraham knew the name, and not just because he read the Venetian newspapers. Finally, she considered the connection she and Rat had made at lunch between Herr Peetz and Avraham Graziano both visiting from Vienna.

Melody had an epiphany and jumped to her feet. She hoped that Rat was still in his bedroom. She knew what they needed to find out for the final puzzle pieces to slot into place.