The Deadliest Sin (14 page)

He tried to look down at his chest.

‘Wounded? I thought I had died and had gone to Heaven, where beautiful handmaidens were attending to my every need.’

‘No, it’s just me making sure this cut doesn’t turn bad.’

With his chin tucked in, he could now see what Cat was referring to. A red line ran across his chest, bisecting his nipples. She had washed away the blood and little was now oozing out. She
proceeded to pour an oily liquid along its length. Zuliani struggled to sit up, howling at the pain. Cat laughed and pushed him back down.

‘Don’t be such a baby. It’s just oil, wine and vinegar, but if it was a good enough remedy for the Greeks, it’s good enough for you.’

‘I would much rather have taken one of those ingredients internally.’

Cat pulled a face, and proceeded to bind some clean linen around his chest.

‘You can do that shortly. When you have spoken to the Signori della Notte. One of them is waiting outside to speak to you.’

Zuliani groaned. The Signori della Notte were a shady bunch who looked into all disorder and crime in Venice. He had fallen foul of them when a youth, being accused of a murder for which he was
not responsible. He had been wary of them ever since. It had been only his prolonged absence from Venice, and his subsequent return rich and famous that had resulted in the accusation being
shelved. But the Signori had long memories and an even longer reach. They could easily dust down his alleged criminal act. And now he would have to explain to them his presence at the attack on
Baglioni. Suddenly recalling what he had seen, he asked Cat to enlighten him.

‘Baglioni?’

Cat Dolfin shook her head.

‘Dead.’

Zuliani cursed his luck. The trader could have given him a lead on the matter of the mysterious cases of golden ballast, and now he had been killed. Along with Baseggio and Saluzzo. With much
more to do, he decided that now was not the time to tangle with the Signori. They could embroil him in a prolonged debate about what he had seen, and who the killer had been. They might even accuse
him of making up the presence of another person, and imprison him for the crime. After all, he had been accused once before of murder. It could end up being weeks before he could prove his
innocence, and in the meantime, the true killer could disappear, along with the gold. He sat up, feeling the bandages pull tight across his chest.

‘Tell whoever is waiting that I am too weak to be interviewed. I am after all over seventy, and this has been a great shock to me.’

‘Hmm. I am not sure that will keep them from seeing you. But you do have one other means at your disposal.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I will explain to them that you are shortly to be elected to the Council of Ten, and your friend the Doge would not take very kindly to you being badgered at this crucial time.’

Zuliani was not accustomed to using an elevated position in society to avoid the Signori. He was more used to ducking and diving like the common man he was. But he liked the idea, and grinned
suddenly.

‘Excellent. You can put on your most patrician face, and send them on their way.’

Cat laughed at his drawing her into the scheme.

‘I am glad you see the sense in my suggestion. At least it beats what you used to suggest I do to protect you.’

‘And what was that?’

‘That I used my feminine wiles to distract them.’

Zuliani’s smile turned wolfish. ‘Well, your attributes are manifest in that area.’

She gave him a playful slap in the arm and turned away, giving him a view of a wiggling bottom as she went about her errand.

Ruefully, Zuliani picked up the garment ruined by his attacker, and poked his hand through the long slash. The quilted nature of the elaborate stitching was probably what had saved him from a
worse injury, but it meant the
jaqueta
was beyond salvation. He bundled it up, and tossed it aside carelessly. He had never liked it anyway, preferring his old fur-trimmed long gown with its
patterned cloth. It had been his favourite garb in distant Cathay, and reminded him of other, more carefree days. Days when he didn’t have to kowtow to the wealthy in order to gain their
favour. Then, he had been an agent of the Great Khan, with his personal passport and badge of office – the
paizah
. The gold bar, etched with the Khan’s command, had been his
means of access to officialdom wherever he went in Kubilai’s empire. It had been lost in the fire that had engulfed his home recently, along with most of his other treasured possessions from
Cathay.

Now, he had to rely again on his wits to achieve his goals. And wits alone would now be needed solve the mystery that had so far caused three deaths. Most recently, Bernardo Bagnioli had been
stabbed because he had been deeply involved in whatever plot revolved around the bringing of gold back to Venice. Zuliani had no doubts about that. Baglioni’s own fears, expressed so clearly,
meant he must have known who he would fall foul of if he spoke up. Unfortunately for the trader, his co-conspirator had decided to stop his mouth anyway. Saluzzo had also been murdered. Zuliani had
seen the corpse, and there was no way his death had been an accident. You didn’t get three puncture wounds on your chest falling from the rigging, only from a dagger seeking to stop your
heart. Saluzzo had met a similar fate to Baglioni, either because he was in the plot as well, or because he had seen too much. Zuliani guessed at the former reason. A ship’s captain knew
everything that happened on board his ship. He had to, in order to maintain control. Baglioni and whoever the others were would have had to recruit him to the cause too. And ultimately, that had
led to his death. That left only Baseggio.

Zuliani believed the old man was innocent of any wrong-doing. The retired shipwright had no reason to be a part of the plot as his only involvement prior to the venture had been to put a small
amount of money into it. No, he had been killed merely because he had been too nosy. Just like Zuliani had been. He began to wonder if he too would be silenced. It all depended on whether he had
been seen in the storehouse. But even if he had been, he had one consolation after that night’s escapade: Kate was safe. No one would have identified her as the youth accompanying him on the
break-in.

He sniffed at the three jugs that Cat had used to mix the salve for his wounds, finally identifying the wine. He took a swig, and pulled a face. Though it was not the vinegar in the concoction,
it was close to it in the sharpness of its flavour. It must have been the cheapest wine she could find for the preparation.

Cat returned, and saw what he was doing. She took the wine jug from him. ‘That was awful wine, and only good to wash wounds with.’

Zuliani wiped his lips with the back of his hand. ‘I know that now. Do you have some good wine to take away the taste?’

She gave him a severe look, and told him that the representative of the Signori della Notte had gone. He had reluctantly bowed to the grand lady’s wishes.

‘But they won’t leave it there. You need to find this murderer before you are accused yourself.’

Zuliani shrugged as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

‘I think I need to do something to cheer myself up. I thought I would attend the Doge’s banquet tonight.’

Cat was startled by Zuliani’s pronouncement. The banquet was intended to parade the Council of Ten candidates one last time before the great and the good of Venice. Everyone whom Zuliani
despised would be there, and she had assumed he would not wish to attend, even if he was still set on getting elected. And she had presumed that recently he had stepped back from the idea. That was
why she had been pushing him into the fray at every opportunity. She had hated the idea of Zuliani becoming part of the establishment from the beginning. But she knew the only way to dissuade him
was to persist in encouraging his involvement with the corruption that power brought. Now he seemed to want to rub shoulders with those in the highest positions in the republic and their
supporters. Had her strategy failed?

‘Are you sure you want to?’

Zuliani nodded vigorously. ‘Oh, yes. And you will be on my arm, of course. Now go and get dressed in your finest.’

Caterina Dolfin glanced down at the discarded and ruined
jaqueta
.

‘Very well. But what will you wear?’

‘Something appropriate to my aspirations, I can assure you. Now go!’

Cat was not convinced by Zuliani’s choice of clothes. They arrived at the palace’s water gate in Rio della Canonica by means of the Dolfin family
barchetta
.
In order to get out of the boat, Zuliani had to lift up the long robe he wore. It was a silk gown embroidered with dragons that he had brought back from Cathay. And though he insisted it was proper
court dress in the presence of Kubilai Khan, Cat thought it would not impress the
case vecchie
. But as its sumptuous nature outdid her own gown, perhaps she was being overcritical. Having
straightened his own gown, Zuliani helped her from the boat, which was swiftly rowed away, allowing more vessels to disgorge other richly caparisoned guests at the Doge’s gates. Climbing the
grand stone stairs, they made their way towards the hall of the Great Council. The event was already in full swing.

Zuliani cast an enquiring gaze around the hall, and Cat realised that perhaps he wasn’t here to impress the old aristocracy after all. He seemed to be looking for someone in particular.
She took his arm, and pulled him to one side, allowing others behind them to pass through into the chattering throng. She whispered in his ear, though it was hardly necessary as the sound of a
thousand conversations was almost deafening.

‘Who are you looking for, Nick?’

‘Looking? Why should I be looking for anyone?’

A servant passed by with a tray of wine goblets, and Zuliani grabbed two, splashing some of their contents on the marble floor. He scuffed it with the sole of his boot, and passed one of the
goblets to Cat. She pulled a face at his expression of innocence about her question.

‘I may have found you again only after many years, but you were always an open book to me in the past and nothing has changed since then. You think the answer to the murders is here in
this room, don’t you?’

Zuliani smiled, and took a long swig of the wine. When he had finished, he waved the goblet in an arc before him.

‘Take a look around this room, and tell me what you see.’

‘I already know who I can see, and everyone is in the pages of the
Libro d’Oro
.’

She was referring to the book that listed the aristocracy of Venice, without which entry a person could not serve on the Great Council. Or vote for the Council of Ten. But she didn’t need
to look around the hall to know that. Zuliani shook his head at her reply.

‘You’re wrong. There are others here who are not Venetian, but are the support and mainstay of those you identify. There is a cardinal or two here, for example. But that is not what
I asked. I asked what you saw, not who you saw.’

Cat frowned, not quite understanding what it was Nick wanted of her. But he didn’t keep her in ignorance for long. He waved his goblet again, splashing more wine on the floor, much to the
consternation of an elegantly dressed, elderly woman standing close by. She looked his exotic garb up and down with disdain, and moved away. Cat grinned maliciously.

‘You just lost the vote of the whole Tron family. That was Sofia, the matriarch of the Trons, and none of her offspring defies her.’

‘I care little about the vote, and you know it. You’ve spent the last few weeks deliberately pushing these people down my throat, in a bid to convince me of their awfulness. And your
ploy has been successful. So I know you can see what I see.’

‘And what is that?’

‘Greed. Not the simple lust for good food and wine. I can understand that sort of greed, and can forgive it. No, they are all greedy for power. And wealth, which brings power with
it.’

‘I cannot deny that, Nick. God knows, I have lived with it all my life. But if greed is the cause of those murders, and everyone here is driven by greed, how are you going to weed out the
killer?’

Zuliani tapped the side of his nose in a conspiratorial gesture.

‘By making him reveal himself. Watch this.’

Cat watched as he strode into the crowd of sycophants around the Doge, and began to shake hands like an eager candidate for election. When a hand was not immediately proffered, he grabbed the
reluctant man’s arm and took his hand anyway. She observed in bewilderment as he worked his way through the inner circle of Soranzo’s friends, even grasping the Doge’s own hand.
Surely he didn’t think that the Doge was involved in the murders?

She noted how he held each hand for a long time, always gazing down as he shook it. Soon he had finished with the group around the Doge, and moved swiftly on, shaking hands as he went. She began
to wonder if he had gone mad, and was trying to get elected after all, because she had no idea how his actions would help him find the murderer. Unless he was testing for a sweaty palm. All she
could do was trail after him as he bore down on Sofia Tron and her family. Once again he was shaking hands, much to the disgust of the elderly matriarch of the family. Now Cat could believe Sofia
Tron capable of murder. The look in her eyes suggested she would cheerfully murder Zuliani before the whole
case vecchie
. He did pause for a long time over squeezing Marco Tron’s hand,
and Cat wondered if Nick had divined something about the man’s guilt. But then he moved on.

Soon he had worked his way almost entirely down the hall, until he spotted someone else. It was the banker, Antonio Perruzzi, who had a similar circle around him as had the Doge. They reminded
Cat of buzzing flies hovering around a corpse. In fact, it was an apt analogy, because the banker was quite old, and his face resembled nothing more than a skull with parchment-like skin drawn
tightly over it. His cheerless smile exposed a set of yellowed teeth, completing the image of a death’s head. Of course, none of the sycophants around him would dare to tell him this, and
Zuliani for his part seemed delighted to encounter Perruzzi at last. As Cat drew closer in order to listen to Nick, she saw a faint aura of horror creeping over the banker’s face as his hand
was pressed. He wrestled it away from Zuliani, at the same time responding to his obsequious address.