Venetian Vendetta: The Tremayne Mysteries Series Page 10

  ‘Down the stairs to the lower cabin, then walk to the front of the boat and you’ll find another smaller staircase. Would you like me to escort you?’

  She was quick to shake her head. ‘I’m sure I’ll have no problem finding it.’

  ‘If you lose your way, Francesca is downstairs. She’ll help you.’

  Nancy had every intention of slipping past Francesca as silently as possible. When she reached the cabin, she saw the woman was fast asleep on the sofa, her mouth slightly open and breathing heavily. She would have loved to take a photograph, but scolded herself for the mean thought. Then it was down the second staircase, as directed, to what must be the hull of the boat, but at the bottom she hesitated. Right or left? It was something Dino had omitted to say. If she turned to the left, it looked as though she would come to a dead end. She chose the right.

  The passage ran a fair way but she walked its length without finding a bathroom. Instead, a large wooden crate blocked her from going any further. It was unmarked and heavily bound with steel straps, though the lid seemed to have been prised off at some point.

  She was surprised. It looked like heavy cargo and this was a luxury yacht. Why would a pleasure craft be transporting cargo? She bent down to take a closer look. Where the lid had been removed, it had not been firmly nailed down again, and there was some kind of raffia protruding, wrapping material perhaps. She bent closer and saw a flash of gold, or was that gold leaf? Either way, it looked very much as though it might be a picture frame.

  She reached out to touch it through the narrow gap and instantly a large hand slammed heavily down on hers, trapping it painfully against the side of the box. She felt an initial shock, then terror as the old fear returned. A solid figure pressed close up to her, his grip like a vice, pressuring her hand to such an extent that she could feel every grain of the wood.

  ‘You have lost your way, Mrs Tremayne?’ The voice was devoid of expression.

  It was Salvatore. He must have left his young helper at the wheel and crept up on her. And he had crept; she had not heard a sound. But Salvatore! He was Dino’s captain, Luisa’s husband, yet she felt menaced by him. She straightened up as best she could, but he continued to pin her tightly to the narrow space.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She could feel her skin, already hot from the sun, burn more fiercely. ‘Dino told me how to get to the bathroom, but not which way to turn when I got to the bottom of the stairs.’

  ‘It is the other way.’ He glared at her for a moment and she wondered what he would do. Leo was two staircases distant and would not hear her if she cried for help.

  But then he said, ‘Please—’ and thrust out his arm out to steer her away.

  She had no option but to retrace her steps along the passageway with Salvatore walking inches behind.

  Chapter Thirteen

  He touched her on the shoulder, pointing to a small door to the right of the stairs that she’d not noticed earlier.

  ‘Here.’

  In a few seconds she was in the bathroom and had locked the door behind her. She took a deep breath. Her pulse was still beating fast and her hand stung from Salvatore’s grip. She ran cold water into the basin and slowly bathed her face.

  What had that been about? She had stumbled on something she shouldn’t have done, that much was obvious. But paintings? A large crate of them? A yacht was hardly the place to store expensive pictures, so they must be en route somewhere, though not to Burano it was clear.

  And if it was a puzzle where the paintings were going, it was an equal puzzle where they had come from. Perhaps the boat was being chartered by a dealer in Venice to deliver artwork to one of the islands, but then why had Salvatore been so threatening? His attitude suggested the paintings were in some way illegitimate, and why after all would Dino turn his beautiful yacht into a delivery service?

  Bewildered by this latest twist of events, Nancy stood, hands either side of the basin, staring hard into the mirror, trying almost to pierce the glass in an effort to find answers. Whatever was going on, Salvatore was in the thick of it. Then she remembered the young man at the quay, the assistant to the Port Superintendent. And that strange look he and Dino had exchanged. Was he in some way connected to these paintings? Was Dino?

  But to suggest that Dino was involved in something bad was ridiculous. He was a wealthy man and well-respected in the city. There was the small fact, too, that he’d invited them on this pleasure trip and been happy for them to wander the boat at will. If there was something suspicious going on, he couldn’t know about it.

  She unlocked the bathroom door and looked down the passageway. There was no one in sight. Slipping quietly out, she began to climb the stairs, hardly noticing where she was going, her mind was in such turmoil. If she hadn’t taken the wrong turning, she would be none the wiser, but now she had seen the crate she knew deep down that something was wrong.

  When she emerged on the top deck, she saw that Leo had fallen into a doze—the meal and the sun and the rhythm of the boat had cast its spell on him. Dino was reading a magazine and she attempted a brief smile. He adjusted his sunglasses and smiled back. For a moment, she was tempted to ask him about the crate, but something made her decide otherwise, and she settled back in her chair and tried hard to enjoy the rest of the cruise.

  *

  Another motoscafo took them back to their palazzo. The temperature had dropped, as it often did on these September evenings, and she nestled close to Leo, wanting to speak of her discovery but not knowing how to start. Previously, she had dismissed the idea that such a wealthy man as Dino could be involved in anything dubious, but now she had begun to wonder. How likely was it that Salvatore’s employer would be ignorant of what was on his own boat? If there was a simple explanation for what she’d found, her husband was the one who might have it. Leo knew their host well. They were friends, close friends, if Dino were to be believed.

  ‘Dino mentioned you met at Cambridge,’ she began, for want of a better way to introduce the subject.

  ‘We did. We were students on the same course. History of Art.’

  Being on the same course hardly seemed the kind of friendship Dino had suggested at the Cipriani. ‘Did you spend much time with him at university?’

  ‘We attended the same lectures when Dino decided to turn up, but I can’t say we spent a lot of time together. I’ve probably seen more of him in Venice than in Cambridge. He had his own circle of friends and I had mine.’

  ‘What kind of friends did he have?’

  ‘Ones who preferred to play rather than work,’ Leo said lightly.

  ‘He doesn’t sound too committed. Why do you think he went to Cambridge?’

  ‘Dino is a clever man. And I imagine he liked the idea of having a Cambridge degree.’

  ‘But if he didn’t study…?’

  ‘He studied some of the time, but was easily distracted. He’d go off to London for days. Brighter lights there.’

  ‘It must have been an expensive lifestyle,’ she hazarded. ‘But I imagine he comes from a wealthy family.’ It would be interesting to know where exactly his money had come from, Nancy thought.

  ‘Dino doesn’t have family. Both his parents were killed in a car accident a few years before he came to England. I think his father was reasonably well off—he had an important job at the oil refinery at Porto Marghera. He must have left Dino a fair amount and that probably helped him on his way.’

  ‘Could money have come to him from elsewhere? He is very rich.’

  Leo moved slightly to one side. She saw him staring at her in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’

  She was starting to wish she hadn’t begun this. ‘Nothing really.’ Leo continued to stare and she hesitated. ‘It’s just that… it doesn’t sound as though his father left him a huge fortune, yet Dino couldn’t have been worried about getting a job after university or he’d have worked harder. So maybe he had money from somewhere else and didn’t need to bother.’

  ‘Well, whatever his s
ituation, it didn’t do him too much harm. He had a great time and took a Third. I was the boring one—intent on getting the best.’

  She laid a hand on his knee. ‘I can’t imagine you were boring. And your studies paid off, didn’t they, so maybe boring was better.’

  ‘I wouldn’t swear to that. Dino’s the one who’s ended up living in a magnificent palazzo and owning a yacht like the Andiamo.’

  *

  She was very tired when the motoscafo deposited them at the palazzo’s landing stage, as much from the stress of her imaginings as from a day in the sun and fresh air. Leo took her hand and together they climbed the stairs to the first floor. Archie was waiting for them in the salon, a sheaf of papers in his hand.

  ‘Good day?’ he asked.

  ‘Very good, thanks, Archie. But what have you got for me?’

  ‘Sorry, boss. Some letters, arrived this morning. And a few others to sign—I’d like to get them off tonight if possible. I’ve had to change some of the arrangements we’d agreed for London, but I’ll go through it with you later.’

  Leo sat down on the sofa and took off his shoes. ‘Phew. That’s better. They’ve been pinching me for the last hour. Did you get anything from home in the post? It must be time.’

  ‘Yes,’ Archie said in a toneless voice. ‘Ma’s back in hospital again.’

  Leo jumped up sharply and walked over to his assistant. ‘My dear chap, why didn’t you say?’ He put his hands on Archie’s shoulders. ‘I am so sorry.’

  ‘I only heard this morning. After you’d left.’

  ‘You must go home. Back to Cornwall. Forget the paperwork and just go.’

  Archie shook his head. ‘There’s not much point. I’ll leave when you do. I need to keep an eye on you, Leo. The last time I left for home, I found you married when I got back!’

  ‘You can be sure I won’t be doing that again!’ The joke fell flat. ‘But you should go. It’s important you see your mother.’

  ‘A few more days won’t matter. Ma’s condition isn’t too serious. Still the same old heart murmur. She went back to work too soon, that’s the problem. I told them but they never listen.’

  ‘Your brothers are looking after things?’

  ‘As best they can. They’re pretty useless around the house, but Grace, my sister-in-law, goes in regularly. And they think Ma will be home again in a week or two.’

  Leo walked back to the sofa and sat down again. When he spoke, he sounded diffident. ‘What about losing her income? Bills to pay?’

  Archie’s lips closed in a fine line. ‘It will be okay.’

  ‘Look, Archie,’ he said awkwardly. ‘You know I’m always here. I mean if things get too difficult.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Archie repeated in a voice that made it clear the subject was closed.

  Leo shuffled the neatly typed letters in his hands, a guilty look on his face. ‘I’m sorry, old chap. These won’t be any good. Not now. It’s a damn nuisance, but I’m going to have to change arrangements again and that lands you with extra work, I’m afraid. The Moretto funeral is tomorrow, but the day after I’ll be travelling to Rome. I should be back well before the end of the week—in fact, I’m hoping I’ll be away a day at most. It will be safe to reschedule our London tickets for Friday.’

  Archie looked resigned, but took back the papers and walked to the door.

  ‘Oh, and while you’re at the station,’ Leo called after him, ‘buy me a first class return to Rome for Tuesday—with a seat reservation. The early train?’

  Archie nodded, his face expressionless. ‘Shall I use the Italian account?’

  ‘Yes, that would make—’

  ‘Rome?’ Nancy interrupted.

  ‘That’s right, darling. I don’t know if you heard what Dino said, but the police are holding a couple of his paintings that were stolen when the palazzo was burgled, and he’s asked me to authenticate one of them. It’s tiresome, I must admit—I was hoping we’d start for home sooner. But it’s a painting I helped him find and I feel duty bound to go.’

  ‘And duty bound to leave me?’

  Leo looked uncomfortable. ‘I wouldn’t put it quite like that.’

  ‘I would. But perhaps I can come, too?’ Nancy felt herself fizzing with annoyance.

  ‘It’s a nice idea, darling, but it’s business. I think it best I go alone.’ Leo picked up his shoes and began to carry them to the door. ‘We’ll visit Rome another time, I promise.’

  ‘But I’d like to go with you on Tuesday. It surely won’t be a problem for Archie to buy two tickets.’

  She had never before spoken to Leo in so definite a tone. Archie’s eyebrows twitched and her husband remained standing awkwardly in the doorway. ‘Can you wait a while?’ he said to his assistant. ‘I’ll be back to sign the letters. Nancy, would you come upstairs for a moment?’

  She followed him into the bedroom and he closed the door behind them, walking across the room to place the painful pair of shoes beneath one of the easy chairs. Then he turned to face her.

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t disagree with me in front of Archie. Or if you must, not quite so emphatically.’

  His cool manner did nothing to placate her. ‘And I would rather you didn’t decide to leave Venice without telling me.’

  ‘You’re right. I should have mentioned it and I’m sorry. But I thought we could talk when we arrived home, then Archie was here wanting to get off and it was the obvious thing to ask him to get a ticket for Rome at the same time as he changed our London booking.’

  ‘It might be obvious to you, Leo, but not to me.’ She plumped herself down on the bed and looked across at the window. The sky had turned every shade of peach, a beautiful day coming to an end. ‘I accept our marriage was unconventional, but however it came about, I am your wife and I deserve consideration.’

  ‘Oh God, Nancy! Of course, you do. Forgive me for barging ahead without consulting you, but I honestly didn’t think you’d want to come. I’m going on business and it will fill most of my time. You would be quite alone and I thought you’d hate that—being on your own in a city you don’t know. You’ve never been to Rome, have you?’

  ‘I’ve never been anywhere, as we both know.’ Her voice was sharp. She was angry, but trying hard to keep control.

  ‘I’ll make sure we visit. Next spring perhaps? We’ll stay at the St Regis and gallop round all the sites together—or nearly all, there’s so much to see.’ He was soothing her, like a parent with a fractious child.

  ‘I would still prefer to go on Tuesday.’

  She was infuriated by Leo’s cavalier behaviour. This was their honeymoon. She’d understood the necessity for him to attend the conference. The arrangements had been in place well before there’d been any suggestion of a marriage. But this was different. They could have spent the next few days in this beautiful city together, a delightful interlude before they left for London and another round of Leo’s busy schedule. Instead, to placate Dino, her husband was leaving her high and dry, and had decided to go without feeling any need to discuss it with her. She was that unimportant.

  ‘Archie is waiting below,’ Leo said, a slight snap in his voice. ‘He’ll want to get things sorted out this evening. I hope we can agree that it’s sensible for you to stay.’

  ‘I don’t have much option, do I?’

  He walked over to the bed and lifted her chin with one finger. ‘We mustn’t quarrel, Nancy. I’ll be back from Rome before you realise I’ve even gone.’

  ‘Fine,’ she said brusquely. ‘I’ll do as you wish. I’ll stay.’

  ‘For goodness sake, a lot of women would be happy enough to do just that. You’re in Venice, Nancy. Venice!’ Her anger seemed at last to have pierced his façade of goodwill.

  ‘I am in Venice, Leo. And I must thank you for bringing me here. I hope I sound grateful enough.’

  He got up and walked to the door. ‘I have to see Archie.’ His voice had grown a few degrees colder.

  She felt her stomach twist. I
t was the first serious disagreement they’d had, but she remained unrepentant. He paused in the doorway, looking back at her, his face impassive. ‘I hardly dare ask, but are you still willing to accompany me to the funeral tomorrow?’

  ‘Naturally. Marta means a lot to me,’ she said pointedly.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She regretted their quarrel for the rest of that evening. Her husband hardly spoke. Instead he sat in the salon, his lap full of papers, seemingly reading his way through every report that had been produced for the conference. Nancy perched on the chair opposite, pretending to be immersed in her book, but in reality reading nothing. The words danced before her eyes and during the next hour she read and re-read the same page over and over. It was a relief when at ten o’clock she could fetch the tea tray that Concetta had left them. She drank a swift cup, then climbed the stairs to the bedroom.

  But it was no better here. She had hoped the double bed might ease the situation, but Leo took an inordinate time in the bathroom and when he finally pulled the bedcovers back, it was to turn on his side, plumping the pillow beneath his head and resolutely ignoring her. He had never before treated her in this fashion, and though she was sorry to be at odds with him, his silence did nothing to lessen her anger.

  She felt grateful to Leo. That was the wifely role after all—every agony aunt, every advice manual, stressed that wives were in debt to their husbands. Men brought them a much-needed security: they paid the housekeeping, the rates, taxes and insurance, and provided a sheltering roof. Leo had done all that and more. He had given her protection against a man who meant her actual harm.

  But no matter how grateful, she couldn’t allow her husband to treat her with indifference. Nancy had never pretended this was a love match, but even if it had been, she would have kicked against such high-handedness. He had apologised for not consulting her on the trip to Rome, but the apology had come late and was hardly fulsome. And when she’d refused to soften, he had become cold and unforgiving.