Page 12 of Vengeance in Venice
“He has, but he claimed he would not be long. Might I help you instead?”
Giusti blinked in surprise, and then, as she resumed her seat, he sat down quite suddenly opposite her and leaned forward.There was a particularly colorful bruise around his eye. “Perhaps you can. I suppose you do not know?”
“Know what?”
“About Savelli.”
“Only what I learned last night and what you told my husband.”
Giusti waved that away as if it were of no account. “No, no, I mean today. Savelli is dead. Murdered.”
Her lips parted in shock. At least there was no triumph or rejoicing in Giusti’s eyes. In fact, just for an instant, between the cuts and bruises, she was almost sure she saw grief.
“Solomon has gone to see him,” she said slowly.
“I was afraid of it. I came to warn him not to, because the palazzo will be full of policemen. Hopefully, they will send him away as a foreigner of no account.”
“Why do you hope that?” Constance asked, bewildered and distracted. Savelli had been a strange man, and she had been furiously angry with him, but somewhat to her own surprise, she had not disliked him. And now he was dead, his life wiped out by…
By his sworn enemy?
Giusti seemed unaware of her sudden suspicion. “I told the police about my…disturbance last night, but I did not mention you or your husband. I merely said Savelli’s men were frightened off when other people threatened to join in.”
“Why?”
Giusti sighed. “I thought I was doing both of you a good turn. I did not want you drawn into whatever…circus is made of this murder. You know, of course, that I am their prime suspect?”
“Being Signor Savelli’s sworn enemy?”
“I am not the only one. His support of the Austrian government is not popular in certain circles. But, especially withthe fight last night, I do seem to have an added motive for violence.”
The knowledge seeped in slowly. “And so does Solomon, because of me. That was why you did not mention us to the police.”
“It would have been poor recompense for his good deed.”
“Except that Solomon will tell them the truth. He is not the kind of man to be brushed away as of no account.”
Giusti sighed. “I was afraid of that. I am sorry to bring this upon you.”
Constance regarded him. There was something—a great deal, no doubt—that he was not telling her. She guessed him to be a man of quick passions and not entirely averse to violence. “How did Signor Savelli die?”
“Stabbed through the chest and left to die on the steps at his palazzo’s back door.”
Exactly where she had stood when she saw Solomon had come for her.
“I did not kill him,” Giusti said, almost conversationally. “When you stepped into our boat and I saw his shadow behind you, I found I was no longer angry. I felt this foolishness had to stop.”
“Solomon and I thought that, too. We even talked about trying to reconcile you.”
“And now it will never be.” His voice was bleak. “We were friends once, you know. I am sorry he is dead.”
She thought he was. More than that, she believed he had not killed Savelli. Or perhaps she just hoped. There was something instantly likeable about him. “Who were his other enemies?”
Giusti sat straighter, blinking in clear surprise.
“At home,” Constance said, “Solomon and I have a business of private inquiries. We have been quite successful.”
“That is what you do?” Giusti asked incredulously.
