The Alchemists pursuit

The Maestro nodded understandingly. Knowing him as I do, I could tell that he was enjoying himself hugely. "It is a great shame. As you say, the boy has charm and talents. You keep a diary, sier Bernardo?"

There was a perceptible pause before the man addressed replied, "No. What did my miscreant half-brother tell you about that?"

"Nothing at all, which I found interesting. No diary? You, sier Domenico?"

"Not I, either."

Bernardo cleared his throat. "I do keep a notebook of my political dealings, lustrissimo." He was on his best behavior, much more gracious than he had ever been to me. "A sort of ledger, really. You must understand that politics is largely concerned with mutual back scratching. At every meeting of the Grand Council I cast my vote to oblige sier Piero on one issue and sier Polo on another. Someday they will return the favor. If the matter is really important, I may persuade my brother to accompany me and cast his vote also. I need to keep track. What on earth has that to do with the present topic?"

"Everything. It has cost four women their lives."

"I think you had better explain that accusation," Bernardo said coldly.

"Last September, were you not summoned to the bedside of the late Agostino Foscari? It might have been you, sier Domenico, but I judge the family politician to be a more likely choice." He received a nod from Bernardo. "And did not Foscari, right there on his deathbed, break his ancient oath of office by divulging to you a secret he had guarded for the last eight years of his life? Thus he eased a great burden on his conscience and laid one on yours. Was his confessor present, by the way? He probably instigated this repentance."

Pause. "Who told you this bizarre story?"

The Maestro stretched his lips in a wicked grin. "Mostly your mother, although she was not aware that she was doing so. She mentioned to Alfeo that the Council of Ten did not interview her again after Zorzi fled into voluntary exile. That is extraordinary! If the Ten had wanted to know where he had gone, surely his mother would have been the first person to ask? Granted she is of patrician stock and they would treat her more gently than they would a woman of the lower classes, she still should have been questioned."

The brothers exchanged glances and Domenico said, "Keep talking."

"The timing of events requires that some specific incident triggered the recent murders, but there is no point in continuing this conversation if I am mistaken. Well, did Agostino Foscari send for you when he was dying, sier Bernardo?"

"He… Yes he did." It would have been easier to pull Bernardo's ribs out than information.

"And did you pass on the secret he told you to any other members of your family? Back in September, I mean?"

"That is irrelevant," Domenico said. "Surely?"

"No." The Maestro was making little effort now to hide his pleasure at taunting the two patricians. "Foscari was an inquisitor when your father was murdered, of course. Another of the Three was messer Giova

"You are building castles in the clouds!" Bernardo said. "Zorzi 'associated,' as you call it, with half the harlots of Venice."

"But," the Maestro persisted, "two others were dead by then and Gradenigo had been informed of them also; that is a reasonable hypothesis, at least. There is no point in continuing this conversation if I am wrong, so I must ask you outright, sier Bernardo, did Agostino Foscari tell you that one such woman reported overhearing your brother confess to the crime of patricide?"

"Yes."

Surprise! I had expected Bernardo to refuse to answer. Either he could see that the Maestro would then ask how many more women must die before he would face facts, or else he was being especially forthcoming in order to distance himself from the fork-tongued Jacopo. For me, the eavesdropper, it was teeth-clenching time. If the Maestro's question were quoted to the Ten, they must suspect that he had bribed an official to reveal state secrets. If they suspected, they would investigate.

"Did he name this informant?"

Bernardo growled. "No. Doctor, is it possible that eventually, in the fulness of time, we may come to an explanation of this windstorm?"

"I hope so, messer. Foscari died in September. Let us move on to the curious events of December. Your mother keeps her confidential papers in a warded box. To open it one must know both the words and gestures of a minor spell. You, sier Bernardo, keep your 'political ledger' as you call it, in a similar box?"

Bernardo mumbled something I could not hear.

The Maestro did. "I thought so. Those caskets may seem secure to the uninformed, but in reality they are not. Any reasonably skilled practitioner of the dark arts could override the minor spell with a stronger. They ca

Domenico laughed. "Lustrissimo, you certainly have managed some high-class snooping of your own, but a lot of what you are spouting is mere speculation. If you are trying to befuddle us into telling you this supposed dark secret that the dying Foscari supposedly imparted to my brother, then you are wasting your time and ours."

"I already know the secret, clarissimo." The Maestro put his fingertips together, five on five, as he does when he plans to deliver a lecture. "The truth is that Zorzi Michiel never fled into voluntary exile. He never left Venice."

"Who told you this?" Bernardo growled. "And by asking that, I am not conceding that what you say has any merit."

"No? I told you earlier-your mother told me. Her favorite son vanished without saying farewell or dropping her a note. He did not warn either of you that he was going, or you would have started comforting her with forged letters right away, instead of weeks or months later. The Ten never questioned her as to where he might have gone. They a

The silence was answer enough.

This was the secret too dangerous for me to know.

It explained why the Ten was so determined to stop any reopening of the Gentile Michiel case, and it totally changed the range of possible motives for the courtesan murders.

"Revenge," the Maestro said softly, as if he had overheard my thought. "Eight years ago your brother was denounced as a patricide in an anonymous letter. A woman gave false witness and now someone is going around killing anyone who might be that perjurer. Four women dead, at least three of them i

Why hadn't I seen this? He had guessed because his quatrain had prophesied blind vengeance.

"I do not know who that spiteful snitch was and I have been trying to convince the Ten that I have no interest in anything co

"Tonight, messere, this case has come to a head. An additional piece of evidence has come into my possession. One of the murdered courtesans, Caterina Lotto, was deceived by a note that purported to come from your late brother. The sbirri hunted for it, but it was not found until today and then it was brought to me. Obviously it should have gone directly to the Ten and I must turn it in right away. I will also testify that the handwriting is that of your half-brother, Jacopo Fauro."