Chapter 29

F inally, they had a plan of sorts. Rat wasn't confident it was foolproof. He wasn't even convinced it was particularly good. However, it was all they had managed to come up with. Rather than waiting until the rendezvous time of ten o'clock to enter the pavilion, they would situate themselves there earlier and lie in wait.

Melody had pointed out that the note hadn't said where in the pavilion. "How large are these places?"

Rat's counter was that if Mr X hadn't specified where, then it would either be obvious when they arrived, or he intended to meet Herr Peetz in the vestibule. Melody wasn't sure she agreed with this assumption. She had formed a mental image of a very sadistic Mr X. In her view of the killer, he might enjoy throwing Herr Peetz off kilter by making him wander through the pavilion, looking for his daughter.

One of the things that Melody and Rat quickly realised was that not only did they not know exactly how to get to the Giardini Della Biennale, but they also had no idea where in the gardens the Austrian Pavilion was located nor what security there was likely to be. As they considered who might not only know the answers to these questions, but be someone they believed they could trust, they concluded that Giovanni was the most likely person. They already knew that the gondolier could find his way to any spot in Venice. They had to hope this skill extended to the parts of the city not immediately accessible by canal. And as for trusting him, well, while they could not be one hundred percent certain of anyone outside of each other, there was no reason to believe the man was anything other than a longtime, loyal servant to Lady Bainbridge.

While they both needed to change their outfits for their evening adventure, Melody would need longer to devise an appropriate costume for covert activities than Rat. Given this, she returned to her room to see what Mary had packed that might be appropriate while Rat went to talk to the gondolier.

Rat assumed that, just as with the Lord Langley's and Wolf's drivers, when they weren't in the carriage house polishing the new Rolls Royce motor cars, they were to be found in and around the servants' quarters, most likely the kitchen. Rat hadn't explored this part of the palazzo, but he had spent enough time in the great houses of Britain to be able to guess his way. Indeed, as he walked down the hallway past the dining room, Rat saw a plain oak door whose handle was well-worn. Pushing on the door, the immediate change to a more functionally decorated hallway confirmed he was going in the right direction.

While it had been many years since Rat had been a servant at Chesterton House, he had never forgotten his humble origins and had always treated the servants there and at Langley House with particular respect and care. In return, the servants at both homes were universally chuffed to see the young boy elevated to circumstances they could not even imagine aspiring to. As he moved into adulthood, he continued to walk that line with a deftness and sensitivity that was not lost on the inhabitants of both houses, from the highest to the lowest ranks.

Now, it occurred to Rat that he was in a house where no one knew of his background, amongst servants who only saw him as a guest of their mistress. He could not assume the familiarity he did at home and needed to be aware of the servants' likely alarm at finding him in their midst.

Because they hadn't had to serve a formal dinner, the staff had been allowed to take their meal at a more leisurely pace than usual, and Rat found them all assembled in the kitchen, sitting around a long, plain oak table. He was happy to see that Giovanni was amongst them .

At his entrance, all the servants rose, most with bemused looks on their faces. "Please, don't let me interrupt your dinner," Rat stammered in broken Italian. "Sit. Please." The servants followed his command but shared looks of curiosity. Rat continued, "Giovanni, might I speak to you briefly?"

The gondolier rose and indicated that Rat should follow him through a door off the kitchen. Rat had never been more grateful that Giovanni understood and spoke English, however broken it was. He let the other man lead the way. Giovanni took him into a small room that, from the looks of it, was the housekeeper's office. Rat took a seat behind the small, tidy desk, and indicated that Giovanni should take the other chair.

On his way down to the kitchen, Rat had considered what reason he might give Giovanni to explain why they needed his help. It was a given that he couldn't tell the truth, but it was also impossible to imagine how he might explain the need for a nighttime break-in without some kind of plausible explanation. Finally, he'd decided on a limited version of the truth.

"Giovanni, as you may know, my sister discovered the body of the bookseller, Signor Graziano, some days ago." The gondolier nodded his head. Rat continued, "She felt the need to learn more about the murdered man and to try to understand why he had been killed." If Giovanni wondered why a well-bred young English woman wasn't content to leave such an investigation to the police, he was too good a servant to comment. Yet again, he kept any thoughts he might have on the behaviour of Lady Bainbridge and her guests to himself.

This had been the easy part of the explanation. Now Rat paused, then explained, "In the course of trying to learn more about the murder, we discovered that a young woman has been kidnapped and that her abductor is holding her hostage in the Austrian Pavilion at the Giardini Della Biennale." This wasn't exactly true and didn't make a whole lot of sense taken out of context, but it was close enough to the truth. No need to go into who Herr Peetz was and how he had escaped from them out of the window. Instead, Rat then made his request: they needed help getting to and entering the gardens after dark. Was this something Giovanni was able and willing to help them with?

Rat was particularly sensitive to the willing part; he did not doubt that if he commanded the gondolier to help them, he would. However, he had no desire to have the man break the law merely because he felt he had no choice but to help.

"Sì, signor. Giovanni, he will help you," the man assured Rat. "When I was bambino, Giovanni and brother Paulo would go to i giardini. We would, how you say? We sneak in. My family's home it minuscolo and i giardini they are grande. Capisci?"

Rat thought about the cramped tenement he and Melody had lived in when their parents were still alive. Yes, he understood what it was like to be a child who yearned for space to run in.

Giovanni continued, "Giovanni take you in the gondola, then we walk and I show you how get in." It did occur to Rat to question if the secret entrance the gondolier had used as a child was still there, but he didn't want to show a lack of trust in the man. Instead, he told Giovanni what time they wished to arrive at the Austrian Pavilion and the man indicated that they should leave at least an hour to have sufficient time to get there and enter the gardens. Rat had already decided that they would not take Giovanni into the Giardini Della Biennale with them. Rat had no idea how dangerous the situation might become, and while it seemed he had no choice but to allow Melody to accompany him, he could control how much he involved the gondolier.

Looking at his watch, Rat realised that if they were to leave at eight o'clock, they didn't have very long to prepare for their expedition. He indicated that Giovanni should return to his meal and that they would meet him out by the gondola at the allotted time. Then, Rat returned to his room to change his clothes and prepare himself.

Unlike Melody, Rat had expected that he might become involved in nocturnal, covert activities, and had packed accordingly. He didn't want to attract attention on the streets of Venice, so he needed to be dressed in a manner that would not be considered bizarre. He had a lightweight, black suit whose material was soft enough that it wouldn't impede his mobility. He paired this with a dark shirt. He wore a dark cravat that he thought he might pull up over the lower part of his face if he felt the need for greater disguise. Thin, black leather gloves and a soft flat cap completed the outfit.

Rat put his lockpicks into one jacket pocket and tucked the revolver into his waistband. He considered what might lay ahead and added his pocketknife and extra bullets as an afterthought. He had brought with him a pair of old, scuffed soft-soled leather boots that were not at all appropriate for society outings but were perfect for that evening's adventure.

Reviewing his outfit approvingly in the mirror, Rat worried about whether Melody had any clothes as practical or suitable for stealth. He continued to ponder this new worry as he made his way down the hallway to his sister's bedroom. Standing before her door, he suddenly had a new concern: what were they going to tell Mary? Mary's own delicate balancing act between companion and lady's maid meant that sometimes she maintained the kind of inscrutability one expected from servants. However, at other times, she could be quite forthright in her opinions. The latter was particularly likely if she intuited that her beloved Miss Melody might be in any danger.

Deciding that managing Mary was something Melody had far more experience with than he did, Rat knocked on the door. He had expected Mary to open it, so he was surprised when he found himself face-to-face with his sister.

Seeing the look of surprise on his face, Melody explained, "I told Mary that I had a headache and would be retiring early for the night. I suggested that she take the opportunity for an evening off." Rat smiled; he should have guessed that his ever-resourceful sister would have deftly handled this potential problem.

Rat followed Melody into the room, noting her outfit. "How on earth did you have the forethought to bring such a plain, practical, black dress to Venice?" he asked .

Laughing, Melody said, "Granny always told me to be prepared to go to a funeral. I always make sure I have something appropriate with me on any trip just in case anyone drops dead."

"Well, I am glad for her wisdom, even though she might be horrified if she knew the reason you were wearing the dress."

Melody considered his words. "Actually, I believe that if Granny knew that we were sneaking around Venice at night, planning to break into a building in order to confront a killer, her only reaction would be irritation that she was not included."

As she said these words, Melody suddenly found herself overcome with melancholy. Given her age and incapacitation, it was unlikely that the dowager would ever be included in such capers again. The thought of the formerly vibrant old woman confined to a Bath Chair for the rest of her days was profoundly depressing.

Shaking herself out of her sudden sadness, Melody said, "I am almost ready. Luckily, as part of my potential funeral garb, I have black gloves, a shawl, and a very simple black hat."

Rat closed the door behind him and informed Melody of Giovanni's willingness to help them.

"Thank goodness," she answered. "I cannot imagine how we would have done this otherwise."

Melody donned a short black jacket over her dress and slipped her revolver into one of the pockets. Rat couldn't decide if he was horrified that his little sister was carrying a gun or relieved that she had the means to defend herself.