Page 11 of Vengeance in Venice
“I think so, though only for a moment. He stood in the back doorway, watching as his servants prepared to take her home in his boat. Only, when she saw me waiting, she obviously came with us instead. Neither Savelli nor his servants objected.”
“And Giusti,” Foscolo said, “did he leave you at the Palazzo Savelli?”
“No, he came with us. My boatman took him to his own house on the way to her own.”
“And where is it you are staying, Mr. Grey?” Foscolo asked.
“The Palazzo Zulian. We have rented it from the owner for six weeks.”
Foscolo’s eyebrows lifted. “In Cannaregio?”
Solomon inclined his head.
“And how is your wife after her ordeal?” Foscolo asked. “She must have been terrified.”
Solomon stared at him, clenching his fists involuntarily. “Being forced away from me by strangers? Being gagged and blindfolded by her own hood? The men held her so roughly that she has huge bruises on both arms. Of course she was terrified.”
“And that is why you came this morning to visit Signor Savelli?”
“Yes.”
Both men regarded him. He could almost see them wondering why so angry a husband had not confronted the villain last night. Or, indeed, if he actually had.
Controlling his fresh spurt of temper, Solomon said coldly, “My wife explained that Savelli apologized to her and offered her no further insult. He was angry with his own men, even before he discovered she had no idea who Giusti was. On the other hand, I could not let such an act simply pass.”
“What did you intend to do here this morning?” Foscolo asked.
“Speak to him before I determined whether or not to involve authorities such as yourselves and the British consul.”
“Very proper,” Lampl said.
Impossible to tell if he was mocking or approving or simply understanding.
“I hope you have not changed your mind about Venice,” Foscolo said. “Your unpleasant experience should not encourage you to leave the city.”
“It hasn’t,” Solomon said, understanding the warning. “Or, at least, not yet.”
Foscolo held out his hand in clear if civil dismissal. “Thank you for your cooperation. We know where to find you.”
For the first time, Lampl looked irritated, as if he had more questions, or at least preferred to be the one doing thedismissing. “I’m afraid we will also have to speak to your wife and servants. I hope that will not further upset her.”
“My wife is a most resilient lady,” Solomon said, releasing Foscolo’s hand and turning his gaze on the Austrian. “I shall not allow her to be upset. Although we are both happy to assist with your inquiries. May I know how Signor Savelli died?”
There was no exchange of glances between the policemen this time. Although Lampl answered, both men watched Solomon without blinking.
“He was found at the back doorstep of this house, his body half in the canal. He had been stabbed to death.”
Solomon caught his breath. “When was this? When did he die?”
“He was found early this morning, around six of the clock. We are not yet sure exactly when he died.” Foscolo did not smile. “You might well have been one of the last people to see him alive.”
*
Constance was givenlittle time to worry about Solomon’s meeting with Savelli, for less than half an hour after he left her, she had a visitor.
Duly announced by the well-trained servant who had been hired with the house, Ludovico Giusti walked into her drawing room with a quick, urgent step. Despite his bruised face and worried aspect, he managed to smile and bow with a flourish.
“Signora! Forgive my intrusion. I was looking for your husband, but they tell me he has gone out.”
