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Authors: Kate Ross

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Carlo
bowed, making plain that he was complying with her request and not
the commissa rio order. He rang; a footman answered, and the
marchesa bade him summon Maestro Donati.

"While
we're waiting, I have something to show you." Grimani reached
into an inside pocket of his coat and brought out an object wrapped
in faded brown paper. Julian's interest quickened especially when
he caught a glimpse of Lodovico's name in block capitals on the side.

"Is
that the package?" Carlo asked quickly. "The one that was
left at the castle on the night before my brother was murdered?"

"How
do you know about it?" Grimani demanded.

Carlo
smiled mirthlessly. "By your tone, Signer CommissariOj one
would never guess you were concerned not to insult my brother's
relations. We know about the package because his manservant told us
about it."

Grimani
parted the wrappings, revealing an inner lining of silver tissue
paper and a lady's elbow-length glove. He handed the glove to the
marchesa. "Have you ever seen this before?"

She
turned it over a few times, running her fingers over the embroidered
myrtle leaves and the ruby heart pierced with a diamond shaft. Carlo
and Julian came to look as well.

"It's
very old," she mused. "At least a quarter-century, I
should think. And the workmanship is lovely. No, I've never seen it
before."

"And
you, Signor Come?" Grimani proceeded.

The
marchesa deliberately passed the glove to Julian rather than Carlo.
Grimani's eyes narrowed angrily. She ignored him. "What do you
think, Signor Kestrel?"

Julian
examined the glove. "It's obviously a relic of some affaire de
coeur decorated with symbols of love. And if these gems are as real
as they seem, the giver was a man of means." He looked at
Grimani. "I take it Conte Carlo is right: this is the anonymous
package left for Marchese Lodovico?"

"Yes,"
said Grimani curtly.

"Was
there anything in it besides the glove?"

"Yes."
Grimani handed a folded paper to the marchesa.

She
read aloud: "I know who owned this glove and how she came by it.
Unless you wish all the world to know her story, meet me on the night
of 14 March, after 11.00, at the Moorish belvedere at VUla Malvezzi."
She drew in her breath. "That's why he was in the belvedere
alone at that time of night! Then whoever left this package "

"Is
almost certainly the murderer," Grimani finished. "Yes."

"How
did the package come into your hands?" asked Julian.

"Conte
Raversi made a search of Marchese Lodovico's apartments at Castello
Malvezzi after the murder. He found the glove and note locked in a
claw-footed chest."

"Why
weren't we told about them at once?" exclaimed Carlo.

"Even
if there were some justification for concealing the murder which you
know I consider an outrage "

"The
police are aware of your opinions on a variety of subjects, Signer
Conte," Grimani said.

"It
would be extraordinary if they weren't," Carlo flashed back,
"since they watch me like hawks whenever I step over the border
into Austrian Italy. At all events, those closest to Lodovico ought
to have been shown this glove from the first. Some light might have
been cast on his murder."

"Conte
Raversi determined to keep the glove and note secret, along with the
other evidence of murder. I believe that, in addition to his fear of
provoking a rebellion, he was reluctant to expose a possible scandal
involving Marchese Lodovico, who had been his friend."

"What
in the name of God gave him the right to make that decision?"
Carlo fulminated. "Surely it was for Lodovico's family to judge
whether it was more important to avenge his murder or protect his
name?"

"It
happens that I agree with you," said Grimani. "If I had
been in charge of the initial investigation, I wouldn't have let
scruples or squeamishness hold me back from pursuing the murderer
with all the force at my command. But what's done is done. Do you
recognize the glove?"

"No."
Carlo shook his head regretfully.

"Do
you know of any scandal in Marchese Lodovico's youth, involving a
love affair?"

"No,"
said Carlo. "Nothing out of the common, at all events."

"It
wouldn't have been a scandal in any case," Julian reflected.
"This woman's story wasn't known that was how whoever sent the
glove was able to use it to blackmail Marchese Lodovico."

Grimani
eyed him with cold satisfaction. "There's no need to speak
vaguely of 'whoever sent the glove," Signer Kestrel. We know
who sent it."

"Who?"
asked the marchesa quickly.

"Exactly
the person Your Ladyship would expect Orfeo."

Two
men came into the room. One was a lean youth of about twenty, with
curly dark hair, a bluish upper lip, and dark eyes looking out
guardedly from under thick, straight brows. The other was a
fragilelooking elderly man with sightless eyes. His circlet of white
hair was transparently alight, as if he had been granted a halo a
little early. He walked with slow, tremulous steps, leaning heavily
on his companion's arm.

Julian
pushed forward a chair for him. His attendant grunted by way of
thanks and settled him in it, straightening his coat and plumping his
pillows with a brusque energy that was not without tenderness. His
task finished, he retired into a corner, glowering impartially at
everybody.

"My
dear Maestro," said the marchesa, "thank you for joining
us. You know Conte Carlo, of course, but you haven't met Signer
Kestrel, the famous English dandy, who as I told you is conducting an
investigation for us."

"It's
a great honour to meet you, Maestro," Julian said.

Donati
inclined his head in Julian's direction. "You're most kind,
Signer Kest-er-el. I'm sorry your name is a little difficult."

"It's
of no consequence, Maestro."

"I'm
afraid you're unwell," Donati went on courteously. "I know
a great deal about coughs and colds singers live in deathly fear of
them. Have you tried putting medicine into boiling water and
breathing the steam? There's a device called an inhaler Sebastiano
could lend you one. He's my pupil and servant my Eyes, I call him."

Sebastiano
looked alarmed at being singled out for attention, and glowered more
than ever.

"We're
not here to discuss Signer Kestrel's health," said Grimani.
"Maestro, I am Commissario Grimani. I've come to question you
regarding Lodovico Malvezzi's murder."

Donati
sighed. "I'll answer as best I can, Signer Commissario."

"You
may go," said Grimani to Sebastiano.

"Commissario
Grimani is dismissing your Eyes, Maestro," Julian told Donati.

"I
don't need you to interpret for me, Signer Kestrel," Grimani
snapped.

"It
wasn't for you I was interpreting, Signor Commissario."

"Thank
you, Signor Kestrel," said Donati hastily. "Sebastiano, go
and practise your messa di voce. I'll hear you a little later."

"Yes,
Maestro." Sebastiano went out.

"I
don't see any need for you to remain, either, Signor Kestrel,"
said Grimani.

"Not
the least in the world," Julian agreed. "I'm more than
willing to speak with Maestro Donati privately after you've gone."

Grimani
glared. They both knew very well that he would not want Donati
questioned about the murder in his absence.

"It
seems most efficient for you to stay," Grimani said at last.
"But be good enough not to drag this enquiry into
irrelevancies. All right, Maestro, let's begin."

Donati
patiently recounted how Lodovico had persuaded him to come to his
villa on the Lake of Como and train a young English tenor whose
identity was shrouded in mystery. Grimani interrupted to ask, "Did
Orfeo ever tell you where in England he came from?"

"No.
He never spoke of England."

"How
long had he been in Milan when you met him?"

"I
don't know. Perhaps not very long when the marchese first brought
him to sing for me, because he was still learning Milanese. He'd
become quite fluent by the time we left for the Lake of Como a few
weeks later."

"Where
had he come from most recently?"

"I
had the impression he'd been in France."

"What
makes you think so?"

"I'm
trying to remember." Donati furrowed his brow. "Ah, yes.
I told him his accent sounded more French than English, and he said
he'd learned French before he learned Italian. So I supposed he must
have spent some time in France."

"You
didn't report this after the murder," Grimani said accusingly.

"No
one asked me about it, Signer Commissario," Donati pleaded.
"And it never occurred to me that it was important. So many
Englishmen visit both France and Italy."

"Are
you quite certain he was English?" Grimani asked.

The
marchesa's eyes widened. She looked intently from Grimani to Donati.

"The
marchese seemed sure he was," said Donati slowly. "I never
thought twice about it, after that first conversation. Though I must
say, he had none of the arrogance of the English I beg your pardon,
Signer Kestrel."

"Guilty
as charged, Maestro," said Julian, smiling.

Grimani
gave him a withering look. "Maestro, do you think Orfeo
deliberately avoided telling you about himself?"

"He
was very reserved," Donati allowed. "I think he felt his
dependence on the marchese. The English seem much more ashamed of
poverty than we are. Most of the time we talked about music. He was
very interested in vocal training, and talked with both the marchese
and me about what sorts of exercises were most beneficial. He also
liked to discuss ornamentation: how much is appropriate, and whether
composers ought to write it themselves or leave it to singers to
improvise "

"What
about politics?" Grimani cut in. "Did he ever talk about
different forms of government, or about the rebellions in Naples and
Piedmont?"

"Not
that I can remember, Signer Commissario."

Grimani
told Donati to describe the last day of Lodovico's life. Donati said
Lodovico had come to the villa for Orfeo's morning lesson, and
announced he would spend the night there and would not bring any
servants. He had seemed nervous and short-tempered, and taunted
Orfeo about his visit to the castle the previous night. Orfeo had
admitted getting in through the gate with a key he had found at the
villa, but denied having an assignation with Lucia.

"I
don't doubt he was telling the truth," said Grimani. "We
know now why he went to the castle: to deliver the package containing
the glove and note."

"But
Signer Commissario," said Julian, "the package was found
outside the castle gate. Orfeo went inside, and in fact stole a key
for the purpose. Why should he have done that?"

"It's
quite simple, Signer Kestrel," said Grimani. "Orfeo
planned to make an attempt on Marchese Lodovico's life that night,
but Marchese Lodovico balked him. So he fell back on his alternative
scheme of using the glove and note to lure the marchese to the
belvedere the following night. He left the package outside the gate
rather than inside so that the marchese wouldn't guess it had come
from him."

"That's
very plausible," Julian admitted. "Is this visit of
Orfeo's to the castle the only evidence linking him to the package?"

"It's
evidence enough. No one else is known to have gone to the castle
that night. Continue with your story, Maestro."

Donati
described the fight between Orfeo and Tonio, then recounted in a
shaking voice how he had found the marchese's body in the belvedere
the following day, and how Conte Raversi had made everyone promise to
keep the murder secret. At Julian's request, Grimani grudgingly gave
some particulars about the condition of the body.

"Was
there any indication of how the murderer arrived or departed?"
Julian asked.

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