Page 76 of The Venice Murders

The priest looked grave. ‘It was a wicked thing to do but by then, you must understand, Matteo was desperate. He has become part of a plot to steal a valuable painting; he has kidnapped an elderly lady as well. What might have seemed a silly prank is now very dangerous. He warned Luigi that the police will bring the art team from Rome. Tried to persuade him to return the painting and let Filomena go – he promised that his aunt would not report what she had seen, they would say it was a joke that had gone wrong. But Luigi refused. He would not return the Rastello; instead he would sell it and use the money to live after he has escaped from Italy. He told Matteo that he was determined to stay free – he could not go to prison again.’

‘So, Matteo just left the painting and his aunt to moulder in Fabbri’s cellar?’ Jack was scathing.

The priest nodded. ‘I do not think he knew what to do. He was, what you say, out of his depth? He wanted to run away, but he is not like Luigi who has been stealing for months. He has no money. And he knows for certain that the team from Rome will soon be here, especially when they hear someone is trying to sell the painting. So…he writes to me in the hope that I will give him money to escape, in exchange for Filomena’s safe return.’

‘He was lying. There was no way he could guarantee her safety. And then he went back to Asolo and pretended that everything was normal?’ Flora sounded incredulous.

‘I do not know how he could pretend.’ There was a small shake of the priest’s head. ‘But this he did, even when the police visit his father to ask if Signor Pretelli knows of his sister’s whereabouts.’

Flora took a reviving sip of her champagne. ‘I’m sure Signor Pretelli didn’t know,’ she said, ‘but I did wonder about Luigi’s father.’

‘You were right to wonder,’ Massimo said heavily, pushing away the dish of olives. ‘Enrico Tasca is another who is now behind bars. The police came for him this morning. I do not think he had any idea that his son has been stealing since he came from prison, but he agreed to Luigi taking the painting from Santa Margherita as a clever way to punish Stephano again. It was his van and his boat – the one he rents for his deliveries in Venice – that Luigi used for the theft.’

There was a long sigh from their priestly companion. ‘He has never forgiven me for being the one who sent his son to jail.’

‘And the restaurant owner?’ Jack asked.

‘Silvio Fabbri is in jail, too,’ Sybil chimed in. ‘And a good job. They should all be in jail, every single one of them.’

Father Renzi cleared his throat. ‘Such a muddle. Enrico Tasca asks Silvio for a favour – please store this painting in your cellar for a short while. Of course, he believed the Rastello would be “missing” for only a little time – it is what his son tells him.’

‘Long enough for Stephano to fall into grave trouble with the church.’ The count’s anger suddenly flamed, his voice harsh.

‘After that,’ the priest continued, ‘they will return the artwork to the church. So…this is the muddle. Signor Tasca has no idea that his son is planning to sell the Rastello and Signor Fabbri thinks only that he is helping to store goods for his friend. But then a valuable painting arrives at La Zucca and an older lady with it, and he is expected to lock them both up. Imagine the shock!’

‘But he did it still. He is a weak man,’ Flora said decisively.

‘Sometimes, loyalty to a long friendship triumphs over common sense. Triumphs over self-interest,’ Sybil put in unexpectedly.

‘Exactly.’ The priest was grateful. ‘This is the case I believe with Silvio. He had a successful business, a good comfortable life, he had no wish to be involved in such bad things. Particularly when Franco arrived to accuse him of stealing the painting and of kidnapping my housekeeper.’

‘That was the quarrel we witnessed,’ Jack said. ‘It was the quarrel that took us back to the restaurant the evening Luigi Tasca came after us and tried to warn us off.’ There were surprised expressions around the table. ‘Flora was on one of her expeditions,’ he explained. ‘She was busy exploring La Zucca’s cellar when she was nabbed.’

‘But that was most dangerous, Signora Carrington,’ the priest said. ‘You know that, after that evening, Luigi began to follow you? He was suspicious and waiting, so Matteo tells me, for the chance to hurt you both.’

‘I didn’t realise how dangerous it would be.’ Flora was remembering the man in the blue shirt. ‘Not at the time, though Iwasconvinced that Franco’s death wasn’t accidental. In the end, it turned out that I shouldn’t have been looking for art thieves to blame for his death, but a jilted lover.’

‘That girl, Bianca,’ Sybil said, allowing the waiter to fill her glass for the third time. ‘What a stupid thing to do. Chasing after a man like that. And for what? There wasn’t even a baby involved!’

‘The baby is a mystery,’ Flora conceded. ‘I didn’t feel I could ask, after those men had scared her so badly. I suppose she might have been mistaken in thinking she was pregnant.’

Sybil gave a snort. ‘Mistaken! She seems to me to be a highly dubious character, allowing herself to get so angry that she attacked the man. And then making it worse by pretending it never happened. She’ll be charged with murder, I expect, and deserves to be.’

‘I’m not sure how deserving or otherwise she is.’ Jack turned to his mother. ‘But the charge won’t be murder. Franco’s death was unintended.’

‘If you push someone hard and he’s standing by the edge of a canal, I can’t see how the consequenceisunintended.’ Sybil gave a disdainful sniff.

‘Time to eat, I think.’ The count smiled at the waiter who had arrived to tell them their restaurant table was ready. ‘I have ordered aprimofor us –bigoli in salsa. You will like it, I am sure.’

Getting to their feet, the small party made their way back into the foyer and through to the floating restaurant. On the way, Count Falconi took Flora’s arm.

‘I think it has not been the honeymoon you expected, Flora – and I can see that you have both come through difficult times. But I hope that one day you will return to Venice, return to the Veneto, and enjoy a more comfortable stay.’

‘I’d love to come back,’ she said and meant it, glancing at her husband, walking close by.

‘We should,’ Jack agreed, ‘only next time make sure that murder isn’t part of the agenda!’

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