Page 64 of Vengeance in Venice
He sprang to his feet. “I’m sorry. I will go. But let me know if I can help. You are doing more than the police. And suffering more.”
“Not now,” said Constance, who felt suddenly much more cheerful about the whole case.
Extracting the admissions they had from Giusti and Elena was like an achievement. They were nearing some truth, at last. And judging from the queer expression in the widow’s eyes when she looked at Giusti, so was Elena.
Chapter Fourteen
For the firsttime since she had been ill, Constance didn’t have the urge to sleep every half-hour. She sat on the drawing room balcony in the surprisingly warm spring sunshine and flexed her fingers and toes. She felt as if she were absorbing the light like a sickly plant and growing stronger with every moment.
Solomon sat beside her as they watched the passing boats and the lively interactions of the people below. Folk were much less inhibited here. Even the wealthy seemed to call loud greetings and jokes from windows to boats, or even hold long conversations. Yet it all felt curiously peaceful.
She and Solomon did not discuss the case for some time, though she was mulling over the recent conversation with Giusti and Elena, and suspected Solomon was doing the same. The gentle companionship was precious. This was still their honeymoon.
Solomon said, “Do you believe them?”
“Yes,” she replied, knowing exactly whom and what he meant. “I want to, of course, but I do think it was the truth at last.”
He nodded. “It seemed so to me. So, if we rule them out, what is our next step?”
“Premarin. If he will talk to us. And Rossi, when he comes. I also think we need to exchange views with the police.”
“With Foscolo,” Solomon said, “while Lampl is not…overseeinghim.”
It made sense. Foscolo was the man who did the work, who knew about crime. Lampl was there to serve Austria’s interests, whatever that entailed. Since Savelli had been Austria’s friend, she presumed the two men were pulling in the same direction, however irritably. But perhaps that depended on who the culprit was.
Solomon said, “Look. It’s Kellar.”
Following his gaze, she saw the Englishman in his gondola, shaded from the sun, being rowed along the canal. He looked immensely comfortable, but he appeared to be gazing in their direction.
Solomon lifted his hand in greeting, and won an immediate response. “Shall we invite him up?”
During the worst of Constance’s illness, her mother had often crept into her mind. Odd memories of childhood comfort that she thought she had forgotten, maddening incidents of neglect and quarrels, and the guilty recognition that she knew nothing of Juliet’s lifebefore. She had been more interested in her unknown and mysterious father.
“Yes,” she said, “if he will come.”
Solomon stood and leaned over the balcony, beckoning. The boatman steered closer to the side and Kellar, presumably absorbing the habits of the natives, called up, “How is Mrs. Grey?”
Constance waved and smiled, and Solomon called back, “Come and see, if you have time.”
Apparently Kellar had time, for the boatman eased his vessel against the steps and Kellar rose from his comfortable seat and stepped ashore with the ease of long practice.
“Are you sure you are up to this?” Solomon asked her. “I can take him somewhere else while you rest here.”
“I am bored with resting. And I’m curious.”
He smiled, her answer clearly pleasing him. “I daresay it is a civilized hour now for wine and cicchetti.”
He went into the room to greet Kellar, who sounded both jovial and anxious about Constance’s health. Solomon placed a chair for him in the balcony doorway, as he requested.
“Even at this time of year, the direct sun bothers my eyes,” he said. “Old age is both a blessing and a curse.”
“You are hardly old,” Constance scoffed.
“I am six and fifty, so I am hardly young.” His piercing gray eyes fixed on her face. “You have had a bad time. There are all sorts of rumors flying around Venice. The consul is appalled, and not a little frightened.”
“Fortunately, no one else seemed to be affected,” Solomon said.
“Which is significant,” Kellar said, meeting his gaze. “I have a country house in Tuscany that you are welcome to use, once you are fit to travel.”
