The Alchemist's Apprentice

21

T he Lord be with you, Vizio,” I said politely.

“You may need Him more.” Vasco flinched at Bruno’s troglodyte leer. Bruno knew him and even had a sign for him, but he also knew that sometimes Alfeo did not like him, and Bruno disapproved of such people. Since Alfeo was presently smiling, the vizio must be a friend now, so Bruno was happy.

“Come along and let’s get it over with,” I said. “I’m fussy about the company I’m seen with.”

As we went down the stairs, I explained the situation in more detail. I could hear the lash count going up inside his head: sixty, seventy…When we reached the loggia, he was chalky white with fury.

“You think that I am now under your orders?”

“Well, Missier Grande certainly told me you were, but warned me not to say so, because the news might provoke you to excessive secretion of black bile. I’m sure you’ll do fine, as long as you’re properly respectful so I don’t have to reprimand you in front of witnesses. Your boat or mine?”

“Yours. You sank mine, remember?”

We trotted down the giants’ staircase and marched across the courtyard to go out by the Frumento Gate, directly to the Molo. The fog was still heavy, and people would loom into view and then veer suddenly when they recognized the vizio almost upon them. Even the normally unflappable Giorgio was startled to see his new passenger and bowed to him. I told him Ottone Imer’s house, and off we went. Vasco left the outside, damp, benches for Bruno and joined me on cushions in the felze, sitting at my side as if he was about to bite off my ear.

“Did you see your Turkish friend?” he asked suddenly.

“No.”

“Hanging between the columns, in the Piazzetta.”

“It can’t make him much more dead.”

“I suppose not.” To my astonishment, Vasco chuckled. Either he had decided to make the best of the situation or he had settled on a nice, round hundred lashes.

After a moment he asked quietly, “How did you know he was a Turkish spy?”

“Just between us two?”

“I swear.”

“Too dangerous to say.”

He eyed me uneasily. “You or the Maestro?”

“In this case it was me.”

“You really have such powers?”

“He’s taught me a few tricks.”

“And those tricks won’t tell you who set the bravos on you yesterday?”

“I can’t ask personal favors, but I’m fairly sure it was because I had learned about Karagounis. The idea was to silence me before I could expose him.”

“I would not traffic in such evil,” Vasco said pompously.

“It’s dangerous,” I admitted. “I get nightmares.”

Sometimes he was in them.

And yet going visiting with the vizio was a wicked pleasure. He might not be able to quell a riot just by appearing, as Missier Grande could, but he did shine with some reflected glory. People almost fell off the fondamente into the canals to get out of his way. Doors seemed to open of their own accord as he approached. When we reached San Zulian, I left Bruno with Giorgio and strapped on my sword. Vasco always went armed, but he truly did not need to.

Even Imer’s mildewed clerk, who had tried to be officious to me two days earlier, just fell back in horror when Vasco walked in. I pointed at the far door. Vasco marched straight on through without waiting for permission and then told the attorney’s client he could leave, which he did expeditiously. The attorney cowered behind his desk and listened in steadily rising fury as I explained what we wanted.

“On whose authority?” he croaked when I had done.

“Filiberto?” I said.

Vasco shot me a venomous look and then said, “You have a duty to cooperate with the Council of Ten, lustrissimo. Must I go back and report that you refuse?”

“The Council has ordered this?”

“I am here on Missier Grande ’s instructions.”

Imer twitched. “What time?”

I said, “An hour after Angelus will do.”

“Do I have to serve wine again?”

“Not unless you wish to. But we need the same furniture and glasses and some books or papers. Also we want the servant Giuseppe Benzon present.”

“Anything you say, apprentice.” His glare would have boiled the Grand Canal. Vasco was untouchable, but I had made another enemy.

As we walked out side by side, I said. “It must be nice, having such power.”

Vasco is slightly taller than I am and never misses a chance to look down on me. “Yes and no.”

“What’s the no?”

“I get nightmares too.”

Once in a while he shows a humble streak that I find very annoying.

I told Giorgio the Ca’ della Naves and made myself comfortable, opening the curtains and preparing to enjoy the journey. Vasco brooded in silence, mostly, but every now and again he would nonchalantly ask a simple question about what we were doing. I answered honestly, admiring his skill. Without ever pushing, he soon knew everything worth knowing about my meeting with the chiefs.

“So your master doesn’t trust you with the name of the murderer?”

“Did yours tell you Karagounis was under observation?” I countered.

No answer.

“Do you know anything about Domenico Chiari?”

Vasco’s dark gaze drilled into me. “Should I?”

“Yes. The foreign couple we’re about to see hired him as interpreter and guide, so it is sure as holy writ that he was spying for the Ten. Last week he disappeared. I’d like to know if he walked out on them or was ordered to or if he’s just floating face down in the lagoon, somewhere.”

“You are melodramatic.”

“We have seen four violent deaths in three days and I barely escaped another.”

Vasco sighed. “Life is full of sorrows. I knew a Domenico Chiari. We took lessons from the same tutor, but I haven’t seen him in ages. He works for a banker. I don’t know if he spies for the Ten. Only Circospetto would know for sure.”

As we walked up the echoing, musty, and scabby staircase in the Ca’ della Naves, I said, “Sir Bellamy Feather has been here about two months, buying pictures and other art for collectors in northern Europe. Lady Hyacinth, his wife, is the size of a canal dredger’s barge and smarter than she pretends. They were not invited to the Imer party but they turned up anyway and Imer threw them out. No known motive to kill the procurator.”

“Succinct report, deputy.”

That sneer put him a few points ahead, so I resolved to try harder. I hammered on the door. We waited. It stayed shut.

“I can run down and fetch Bruno,” I suggested.

The vizio was raising an official fist to try his luck when the door swung open, and there was Sir Feather himself, millwheel ruff, oar-sized mustache, and shoulder high. In fact he was not as small as I remembered, but then his wife was not present.

“You’re late! We have been waiting,” he said in his execrable French. “There they are.” He stepped aside to reveal a pile of roped trunks and boxes. Then he saw me. “You again? You dare to return to this house?”

“In the flesh.” I bowed. “And this is-”

“Go away before I call the police!” He tried to shut the door, but the long leg of the law intervened-Vasco put his boot in.

“ Je suis un gendarme, monseigneur. You have a complaint against this man?” The accursed Vasco spoke French better than I did and was beefier than Feather, because the door opened despite the little man’s best efforts to hold it. I know from engaging blades with him on many occasions that Vasco’s wrists are stronger than mine, which is another flaw in his character.

Feather glared at both of us, as if uncertain which he hated more. “He inserted himself in this house the night before last under false pretenses and forced my lady wife into the bedroom under the deception that he wished to inspect the paintings we have collected and had I not returned opportunely might have-”

“Yes?” Vasco said breathlessly.

“Frightened her considerably.”

“This is a most serious charge,” the vizio told him, and his sidelong glance at me was suffused with pure ecstasy. Heaven had answered his prayers. “I shall need to hear all the details. I am Filiberto Vasco, deputy to the chief of police of the serene Republic.” He flashed the silver badge on his belt, while steadily edging his way into the apartment, herding Feather before him.

“There is no time! My wife and I are leaving on the instant. The men coming to take our baggage are overdue.”

At that moment the lady of the house loomed into view, rattling off some guttural question to her husband. Vasco’s eyes widened at the sight of her. He eyed me as if wondering how a charge of attempted rape would stand up before the judges. And then, to my intense annoyance, he switched to English. He was clearly not fluent in it, but he spoke it at least as well as any of us spoke French. The other two cried out in joy and all three began gabbling in a hodgepodge of the two languages.

Another point to him! This day was not working out as it should.

I was not quite shut out, for I could guess what was going on from the French words and watching the faces. The Feathers were about to leave the city to go to Rome. But Vasco had orders to make sure that they turned up at the Maestro’s party that evening and they were only foreigners, so he had all the latitude he wanted. Now Sir Bellamy had accused me of attempted rape, Vasco explained, they would have to file a formal complaint and probably stay in town until an investigation could be held.

The English are reputed to be a phlegmatic race, but Bellamy exploded like a bombard. He stamped his feet and screamed and at one point seemed about to draw his sword. I was not worried by that, for I knew Vasco was deft enough with his rapier and I would have enjoyed rescuing him had Feather turned out to be defter. I waited, leaning against the door jamb, occasionally stifling a yawn. Hyacinth watched the argument narrowly, saying nothing.

Three men came plodding up the stairs and stopped in alarm when they saw the vizio and a crazy foreigner arguing with him. Vasco, who was starting to turn red himself, stepped out into the hallway.

“If you came to take the foreigners’ baggage, you are not required today.”

They shrugged and removed themselves without a word. He turned and the door slammed in his face with a peal of thunder. He laughed.

“Having a better day than you expected?” I inquired.

“Oh, much better! Stay here, Zeno. I don’t suppose they will try to slip away without their baggage, but I must find some reinforcements.” He dashed off down the stairs.

I waited, hoping the door would open. After a few minutes it did. Hyacinth peered out, then emerged fully.

“We demand to see the English ambassador!”

“I cannot help you, madame. The matter is in the hands of magistrates.”

She eyed me thoughtfully. “I could reward you well if you would take a message to him. Two ducats?”

I sighed and shook my head in deep regret.

She changed signals, lowering eyelashes, pursing plum lips. “If you could help me, I should be very much in your debt, lustrissimo.”

Saints protect me! I imagined a tussle with those great limbs and hastily thought of Violetta instead. “It would do no good. The vizio has gone to fetch guards. If you try to leave the city, you will be stopped, madame. I am sorry.”

She went back in and slammed the door.

Vasco reappeared at the bottom of the topmost flight of stairs, beckoning me to go down to him.

“All arranged?” I asked. “That was quick.”

He smiled smugly. “All arranged.”

Venice supports nothing like the great police forces found in most cities, but the Council of Ten has agents everywhere. Without doubt someone was already carrying word to the palace and others would keep watch so the Feathers did not slip away.

As we walked back to the gondola, I asked, “Am I to be charged with attempted rape?”

“I hope that can be arranged,” the vizio said happily. “It will depend, I suspect, on what happens this evening. If we need a way to solve our Alfeo Zeno problem, and the Feathers need permission to leave the city, something can be worked out to our mutual satisfaction, if not to yours.”

“Certainly not to mine,” I agreed. “An automatic death sentence, commuted to ten years in the galleys?”

“I wouldn’t count on that last bit if I were you.”

Another point to him.

I said, “You mentioned that you shared a tutor with Domenico Chiari. What subject were you studying?”

“English and German.”

“Why?”

“You think I got this job entirely on my good looks?”

“Obviously not.” He had gotten it by being somebody’s nephew, but it would be petty to say so. “So Domenico was planted on the foreigners to spy for the Ten, but he only admitted to knowing French, not English, so that he could eavesdrop on their private conversations?”

“That’s very obvious, Alfeo. Quite simplistic.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just a dumb monseigneur. And has Domenico Chiari now returned to his normal job at the bank, spying on foreign currency transactions?”

We arrived at the mooring and had climbed into the gondola before I received an answer. I told Giorgio to take us to the Ca’ Orseolo. When I joined Vasco in the felze he said:

“I don’t know what’s happened to Domenico. He’s not a close friend of mine, but he is a friend. That’s another reason the Feathers will not be leaving Venice today.”