Deep and Silent Waters (42 page)

Sebastian drew a sudden, audible breath. ‘She looks as if … Do you think she’s asleep? Why is she slumped against the side of the hood like that?’

The gondola tossed on the choppy waves, half-turned, so that, in a shaft of dying sunlight Laura could see the Contessa’s face. The eyes were closed, the skin pale. The body was slack, collapsed. Laura shivered.

‘She looks ill.’

Sebastian gripped the iron latch of the window, his knuckles white. ‘No. She looks as if she’s dead.’

Antonio stopped rowing near the centre of the canal. He bent, for a few minutes, then tossed a large metal can overboard.

‘Oh, my God!’

‘What was it, Sebastian?’

‘A petrol can.’

Antonio sat down beside the Contessa, and put one arm around her waist, drew her head down on to his shoulder, stroked her spilling hair. With his other hand he threw something along the gondola.

Instantly there was a rush, a loud explosion.

‘Jesus Christ!’ Sebastian muttered.

The night sky was lit with a brilliance that dazzled. Sparks flew in all directions, like fireworks. The gondola and its passengers were consumed by crimson and orange flames that climbed up into the darkening sky while the archangels and cherubim watched from the golden walls of Ca’ d’Angeli.