Authors: Fiona Paul
Tags: #Mystery, #Young Adult, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Historical, #Thriller
“You know why she did,” Cass said bitterly. “She wanted me to be seen after her big announcement that Luca and I would be married soon. Three different people congratulated me on the short walk here.”
“Who?”
Cass shrugged. “No idea.”
A pair of choirboys in white robes with golden sashes made their way down the center aisle. They closed the wooden doors. The bell tolled again and the crowd grew quiet. Everyone stood as the priest appeared and took his place on the raised pedestal just to the right of the wooden altar. A golden crucifix dangled around his neck, and his black robes were trimmed with thick swatches of maroon velvet. Behind him, gray daylight filtered through a wall of arched windows above a giant painting by Titian:
Assumption and Consecration of the Virgin.
Cass had always liked the painting, which showed Mary being raised to heaven by God.
“You know Titian is buried here?” Mada whispered. She relayed this fact every single time Cass attended church with her.
Cass played along. “Really?” She couldn’t help but think of Falco. She touched the amethyst necklace that he had given her, which she was wearing beneath her bodice. She had grabbed the loop of purple stones at the last minute, slipping it around her neck but tucking it out of sight. She’d told herself she only wore it because she meant to return it to Falco the next time their paths crossed.
But now her certainty from last night that Falco was a murderer began to dissipate. He
couldn’t
be a murderer. He couldn’t. Maybe he was painting something for the creepy physician. A special canvas that his master was insisting he keep a secret. She had to find him again and force him to be honest with her. She was sure he had an explanation for what she had seen and heard.
“
Signore, pietà.
” Madalena recited the words along with the rest of the congregation. Cass sighed. Everyone else was apologizing to God for their sins, and here she was dreaming up some new ones.
Cass took a seat on the cushioned bench and tried to focus as
the priest began the first reading. It was something about honesty. Fitting.
Madalena leaned in close. She was never one to pay attention during the readings, which Cass agreed often droned on far too long. “Did you see the handbills?” she whispered.
Cass shook her head. The official Venetian notices distributed around the city tended not to make it all the way out to San Domenico Island.
“A girl’s body was found in the Grand Canal this morning. A maid, I think. Sliced to ribbons.” Mada made a slashing motion against her chest for emphasis. “There’s a reward offered to anyone who knows anything.”
Cass felt as though her blood had suddenly frozen in her veins. She thought of the bloated torso rising from the waters of the canal, the savage circle of bruises around the girl’s throat, the bloody X carved into her chest. A maid, Mada had said. Cass was willing to bet anything it was the missing servant, Sophia, who had disappeared from Joseph Dubois’s estate. “How horrible,” she managed to choke out. “Do they know the girl’s identity?”
Madalena frowned. “I don’t know. My wedding is just a few days away and all anyone can talk about is some servant’s mutilated corpse. It’s a bad omen, don’t you think?”
Cass didn’t even wonder at Mada’s self-absorption today. She herself was too distracted. Bodies, threatening notes, masked strangers, frightening visions—her life had become a series of ominous portents. Cass wished Falco hadn’t burned the anonymous note she had received on the canals. Time after time, Cass felt drawn back to that slip of parchment, as if it contained crucial information.
The priest was preparing to read from the Gospel of Matthew. Men and women all around them were making the shape of the cross on their lips and foreheads. Mada glanced over as Cass crossed herself. The older girl’s eyes narrowed to slits, her fingertips coming to rest on the strand of purple stones that was barely visible on one side of Cass’s neck. She pulled the entire necklace free so that it hung over Cass’s dress.
“Where did you get this?” Mada hissed.
The look in Mada’s eyes frightened Cass. “I’m not sure,” she lied. “From one of the merchants in Piazza San Marco, I think. Why?”
The older women sitting on the bench in front of them both turned around. One scowled. The other raised a finger to her lips. Mada grabbed Cass’s arm and pulled her up from the pew. Quietly, the two girls made their way to the wooden double doors and slipped outside.
A soft drizzle was still falling, but Madalena pulled Cass away from the shelter of the brick church, across the campo. She didn’t stop until she reached the edge of the canal, as though what she had to say couldn’t be discussed too close to the church itself. Behind them, Siena and Eva had also slipped out of the church and now huddled beneath the stone overhang. Decorum dictated that they use umbrellas to help Cass and Madalena stay dry, but apparently both of the maids could tell that the girls were having a private conversation.
“What’s going on?” Cass asked, flipping up the hood of her cloak. “What in the world are we
doing
out here?”
Mada wrapped her own cloak tightly around her. She pinched her lips into a hard line. “That’s not your necklace. It’s Liviana’s.”
“What?” Cass was too stunned to say anything else.
Madalena touched the purple stones around Cass’s neck again. “She had a set of three just like this. One ruby, one emerald, one amethyst. She was wearing this necklace when she was entombed. I’m sure of it.”
Cass thought back to the funeral. She seemed to recall a loop of stones around Livi’s neck, but it was probably just a coincidence. Because the only way that Falco could have gotten the necklace from Liviana’s body was if he had been inside her tomb before her body disappeared. And that was impossible because that would mean…
“You must be mistaken.” Cass tried to keep the tremor from her voice.
Mada looked up at the sky and quickly made the sign of the cross over her chest. “I’m not mistaken. I never forget jewelry. Besides, I have the emerald one.”
Cass had never seen her friend wearing a necklace like the one Falco gave her, but she always thought Madalena owned more jewelry than she could possibly ever wear. She grasped for an explanation. “If you bought the same one, then they can’t be that rare.”
Madalena was still staring at her as though she were diseased. “No. I have Livi’s
actual
necklace. I always loved it and Liviana never wore it. So once when I was over visiting, I asked her if I could try it on, and then I kept it.”
Cass’s eyes widened. “You stole it?”
Mada glanced around the campo, but the square was empty. “Keep your voice down.” She stared at the stones around Cass’s neck. “You really don’t remember where you got it?” Mada asked.
Cass managed to shake her head.
Mada shivered. “It’s another bad omen. I feel like something terrible is going to happen.”
A gust of wind sent a ribbon of cold all the way up Cass’s spine. “You’re not the one wearing it,” she said, struggling to sound as if she were joking. “Maybe it’s a bad omen for
me.
”
The thought seemed to cheer up her friend. “Maybe,” Madalena said. She raised her eyebrows. “Maybe you aren’t meant to marry Luca after all.”
Her words lingered awkwardly in the air for a moment, before Cass cleared her throat. Tucking the necklace back between layers of fabric, she turned away from the canal. “Tell me more about this body they found. You said she was a servant?”
Madalena seemed relieved when Cass had tucked the necklace out of sight. She nodded. “Marco heard she worked for Joseph Dubois.”
So it
was
Sophia, the maid Siena had told them about. “Don’t you think it’s odd,” Cass said suddenly, “that both dead girls were connected with Dubois?”
Madalena gave her a funny look. “What do you mean, both dead girls? Has there been another murder I don’t know about?”
Mannaggia.
Cass had completely forgotten that Mada didn’t know anything about Mariabella. She tried to come up with a plausible explanation. “Siena was gossiping about a murdered courtesan,” Cass finished weakly.
Luckily, Mada seemed too distracted by bad omens to realize Cass wasn’t being completely truthful. The older girl’s eyes followed the movement of a lean black cat as it slunk along the front wall of the church. “I haven’t heard anything about that,” she said. “You know how servants are. Always making up stories.” She waved her hand dismissively. “But Dubois is a good friend of my father’s. He may be a pig at times, but I’m sure he’s not involved in anything sinister.”
Cass wasn’t so convinced. The fact that he was linked to both dead girls had to be more than coincidence. And then there was his friendly physician, Angelo, connoisseur of corpses. Come to think of it, the whole masked ball had given her a bad feeling. Cass shivered as she remembered the stranger in the falcon mask. She couldn’t tell any of this to Madalena, though. Mada would be dumbfounded just to find out that Cass had been at the ball and hadn’t told her. Cass glanced back toward the giant brick church. “Do you think we should go back?”
Madalena shook her head. “Let’s head home. I think we’ve created enough of a disturbance for one day. One missed communion won’t kill us, right?” She signaled to Eva and Siena, who were still huddled just outside the church’s doors.
Cass and Mada left the campo of the Frari and headed toward the Rialto Bridge with their maidservants trailing behind. The great bridge connected the San Polo district with San Marco, where Madalena lived. As they made their way to Madalena’s palazzo, the gray drizzle faded away to sprinkles and then to a foggy mist.
Mada pointed out the inked handbills posted on mooring posts and the sides of buildings. “Look,” she said.
Cass stopped to read the inky handwriting on the official notice. Rain was starting to blur the letters, but she could make out the family seal in the bottom right-hand corner: a griffin holding a flaming sword.
REWARD: 50 ducats for specific and credible information regarding the death of Sophia Garzolo
.
The note was signed by Joseph Dubois himself.
“No mention of a courtesan,” Madalena said. “Probably just a rumor. Besides, if Dubois is so good-hearted as to try to seek justice
for a servant, I highly doubt he’d be involved in any scandal involving a courtesan.” She said
servant
the same way she might have said
insect.
Cass had to admit it was strange. Since when did wealthy noblemen offer rewards for missing maids?
The girls made it to the back entrance of Madalena’s palazzo. Beyond the bronze gate, tarnished by years of exposure to the elements, Cass could see the courtyard garden and the stone table where she had sat with her friend to discuss wedding plans just a few days ago. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then. Mada rang the bell mounted at the side of the gate and a servant appeared to let them in.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Madalena asked.
“I better not. My aunt is expecting me straight home after Mass.” Cass hoped Agnese didn’t ask too many questions about the day’s readings.
“We wouldn’t want to upset dear Auntie. She might do something rash like delay your wedding,” Madalena teased.
If only it were that easy…
Cass bid Mada good-bye and then walked along the Grand Canal with Siena, both girls trying to flag down a gondolier for passage back to San Domenico. Unfortunately, churches all around them had just let out and the gondoliers were busy with short fares. They decided to head down near the Piazza San Marco. The giant square was home to the Palazzo Ducale, and backed up to the lagoon. Plenty of boats usually congregated in the waters just south of the piazza. They might not be able to find a gondola, but Cass thought she should definitely be able to find some kind of watercraft willing to take them home.
The two girls approached the imposing U-shaped building that was home to the Doge of Venice as well as the seat of Venetian government. The Palazzo Ducale was as big as several blocks of private homes, with arched windows on all sides. The perimeter was ringed with a breezeway supported by Gothic columns and elaborate sculptures perched above the entrances. Bricks in various shades of brown and gold glittered in the daylight.
The piazza thrummed with activity. Citizens and nobles on the way home from Mass milled in all directions, stopping to buy a bite of fresh bread from the baker or to check out the latest bracelets and brooches the Gypsies had for sale. Water merchants touted the healing powers of their springwater while booksellers pushed carts filled with the latest printed volumes between the throngs of people.
As Cass headed across the square to the edge of the lagoon, she noticed a small crowd of people, a mix of peasants and nobles, clustered in front of the clock tower. They were all standing in a semicircle, their attention clearly fixated on something.
Cass, thankfully, was tall enough to see over most of the other women. Her eyes narrowed when a skinny man in black robes turned around. It was Maximus the conjurer. He pulled a large pink rose from beneath a square of brightly colored silk. He offered it to an old woman.
Cass tried to remember specific details about the man in the falcon mask. Could it have been the conjurer? She considered his height, his build, the crushed-velvet hat on his head. All of them seemed consistent with the masked stranger from the ball. The conjurer had seemed so sincere when they had spoken at the brothel—but he had clearly known Mariabella. If he had performed at Joseph
Dubois’s estate, he could easily have met Sophia as well. Another possible connection between the two dead girls. Cass wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Cass ducked down behind the tall feathered hat of the man in front of her so that she could watch the conjurer without being detected. Siena waited patiently at her side.
Maximus spoke a magical incantation over an empty stone box, and a stream of doves poured out when he lifted the lid. The crowd cheered. Silver and bronze coins flew through the air and landed in and around a ceramic bowl at the conjurer’s feet. Maximus bowed deeply and thanked the crowd. He closed his hands around one of the doves and then opened them with a flourish, producing a giant brown and black falcon in its place.