Page 53 of Vengeance in Venice
“And so you believe you were poisoned at the consulate reception?” Foscolo said.
“Dr. Donati believes it,” Constance said mildly.
“Why do you think anyone would want to hurt you?”
“Probably because we have been asking questions about Signor Savelli’s murder. But then, so have you, I imagine, and you both look perfectly healthy.”
“Your husband,” Lampl intervened, “has given us a very detailed description of your movements and those near you at the reception. Perhaps you could tell us your own recollections.”
Talking about it last night had helped clarify events in her mind, so she could tell them accurately and concisely. “Some of this you witnessed yourself,” she added.
Lampl glanced from her to Solomon and back.
Foscolo said, “And what have you learned from this experience?”
“Very little that is of practical use.”
“That it can be dangerous to pry into police matters,” Foscolo said severely. “That you should leave the questioning to us.Thoseare the lessons you must take from this.”
“You mean give in and be frightened off?” Constance retorted.
“Yes,” Foscolo said. He all but glared at Solomon. “Sir, you have a duty to your wife—”
“We all have duties,” Solomon interrupted. “I wonder if, in the course of yours, you have come across the Englishman, Sebastian Kellar?”
A tiny frown formed on Lampl’s brow and vanished. “He is a respected diplomat, here in Venice and all over Italy.”
“Is that his only function?”
“He might dabble in trade. I honestly don’t know.”
“He does not commit crimes, nor get drunk and embarrass himself,” Foscolo added. “What more do you want?”
“Does he have a connection to Savelli?” Constance asked.
Lampl leaned back in his chair. Foscolo leaned forward. Both looked baffled. They did not look at each other.
“Not that we know of,” Foscolo said at last. “We know nothing against him at all.”
“Does the Austrian government regard him as a threat?” Solomon asked Lampl.
“If it does, it has neglected to inform me,” Lampl said. “Look, I cannot tell you to leave Venice, but I would advise you to do so until we get at the truth.”
“Then you no longer suspect my husband or me of killing Savelli?” Constance said.
“We have made inquiries,” Lampl said stiffly, “and have come to the conclusion that it is not likely.”
“Much more likely are the thugs he chose to surround himself with,” Foscolo growled, and received an annoyed glare from his superior. As if he didn’t notice, he continued steadily. “They give each other alibis, but all we need is one witness.”
“One witness at three, four, or five in morning?” Lampl said scornfully. “There are none.”
“There is bound to be one,” Foscolo said stubbornly.
Lampl opened his mouth to retort, but Solomon intervened. “My wife is tired.”
They pulled themselves back to order and Lampl rose. “Thank you for your time. I wish you a quick recovery, signora. And please believe we will pursue the matter to the utmost, whether or not it is connected to the Savelli murder. Good day.”
“They argue almost like an old married couple,” Constance said when the door closed behind them.
