return to the villa was to
look for Orfeo. He was not there. "Some of his things are
missing," she reported to Donati. "A change of linen, his
riding coat, and his top-boots. And the dress coat he was wearing
last night is hanging in the wardrobe."
"So
he left deliberately," said Donati. "And very quietly he
didn't wake me when he came to get his things, and I sleep lightly."
"That's
not the worst of it," she said. "His pistol is gone, too
the one he kept in the night-table drawer."
Donati
crossed himself. "God help the boy. I hope he wasn't a
Carbonaro. I'd rather think he killed the marchese out of anger at
his treatment of him. It's more human, somehow."
"Maestro,"
she said reproachfully, "didn't you know him any better than
that?"
Donati
set his face resolutely. "We have to tell Conte Raversi and the
others what you've discovered."
"I
was going to tell them, Maestro," she said calmly. "They
might find Orfeo with his pistol and the other things he took away,
and then they would know I was lying. And what good could I do Orfeo
after that?"
They
waited an hour or more for Raversi to come and tell them what was to
happen next. Donati sat at the piano but was too shattered to play a
note. Matteo, unused to being indoors, went tramping about, knocking
into tables and candle-stands. Lucia kept the coffeepot replenished
and went about her usual household tasks.
At
about noon, Raversi, Ruga, and Don Cristoforo brought back Lodovico's
body, along with one of the villa lanterns that had likewise been
found in the belvedere. Von Krauss had returned to his barracks to
send out parties of soldiers to hunt for Orfeo. Don Cristoforo had
given Lodovico the Last Rites, and Curioni had examined his body.
Now Curioni was on his way to the village to engage a trustworthy
woman to help prepare Lodovico's body for display in the parish
church. There it would remain until the Malvezzi family determined
where, and with what pomp and ceremony, it would be buried.
Raversi
said Curioni was reasonably certain the body had not been moved after
the murder. This scotched any theory that Lodovico had been killed
outside the belvedere, and his body hidden there afterward. Curioni
had also confirmed that the shot that killed Lodovico was fired at
close range probably within six feet. Not only was Lodovico's chest
badly blackened and torn, but the wad that had been used to ram the
bullet up the gun's muzzle was lodged in the wound. It proved to be
a piece of paper ruled with staffs for composing music. As best as
Raversi could tell through the blood and powder burns, there was no
writing on it. "Could Orfeo have got hold of paper like this?"
he asked Donati.
"Yes,
Signer Conte, very easily. Both he and Tonio used that sort of paper
to copy out exercises I composed. The marchese himself used to
scribble on it a restless habit he had. But there was nothing unique
about it. You could buy it at any stationer's in Milan."
"When
was the last time you saw I mean, encountered Marchese Lodovico
alive?"
"He
sent Orfeo and me to bed when the church bells chimed ten. I heard
him playing scales on the piano downstairs, but not for very long.
Just before I fell asleep, I thought I heard someone go out through
the front door. But that might have been Orfeo. He went downstairs
after he helped me prepare for bed."
"Lodovico
sent him to bed, but he went downstairs again?"
"Yes,"
said Donati unhappily.
"Curioni
thinks Lodovico was dead by three or four in the morning, but might
have died much earlier. So we know he was killed some time between
ten and four. If it was earlier rather than later, Orfeo's had a
very great start of us. God knows if it will be possible to find
him, especially with such a vague description. Still, he hadn't a
passport to leave Lombardy. If he tried to cross any border, he
would have been stopped."
Unless
he had enough money to bribe the customs officers, Donati thought.
Or someone provided him with a false passport.
look for Orfeo. He was not there. "Some of his things are
missing," she reported to Donati. "A change of linen, his
riding coat, and his top-boots. And the dress coat he was wearing
last night is hanging in the wardrobe."
"So
he left deliberately," said Donati. "And very quietly he
didn't wake me when he came to get his things, and I sleep lightly."
"That's
not the worst of it," she said. "His pistol is gone, too
the one he kept in the night-table drawer."
Donati
crossed himself. "God help the boy. I hope he wasn't a
Carbonaro. I'd rather think he killed the marchese out of anger at
his treatment of him. It's more human, somehow."
"Maestro,"
she said reproachfully, "didn't you know him any better than
that?"
Donati
set his face resolutely. "We have to tell Conte Raversi and the
others what you've discovered."
"I
was going to tell them, Maestro," she said calmly. "They
might find Orfeo with his pistol and the other things he took away,
and then they would know I was lying. And what good could I do Orfeo
after that?"
They
waited an hour or more for Raversi to come and tell them what was to
happen next. Donati sat at the piano but was too shattered to play a
note. Matteo, unused to being indoors, went tramping about, knocking
into tables and candle-stands. Lucia kept the coffeepot replenished
and went about her usual household tasks.
At
about noon, Raversi, Ruga, and Don Cristoforo brought back Lodovico's
body, along with one of the villa lanterns that had likewise been
found in the belvedere. Von Krauss had returned to his barracks to
send out parties of soldiers to hunt for Orfeo. Don Cristoforo had
given Lodovico the Last Rites, and Curioni had examined his body.
Now Curioni was on his way to the village to engage a trustworthy
woman to help prepare Lodovico's body for display in the parish
church. There it would remain until the Malvezzi family determined
where, and with what pomp and ceremony, it would be buried.
Raversi
said Curioni was reasonably certain the body had not been moved after
the murder. This scotched any theory that Lodovico had been killed
outside the belvedere, and his body hidden there afterward. Curioni
had also confirmed that the shot that killed Lodovico was fired at
close range probably within six feet. Not only was Lodovico's chest
badly blackened and torn, but the wad that had been used to ram the
bullet up the gun's muzzle was lodged in the wound. It proved to be
a piece of paper ruled with staffs for composing music. As best as
Raversi could tell through the blood and powder burns, there was no
writing on it. "Could Orfeo have got hold of paper like this?"
he asked Donati.
"Yes,
Signer Conte, very easily. Both he and Tonio used that sort of paper
to copy out exercises I composed. The marchese himself used to
scribble on it a restless habit he had. But there was nothing unique
about it. You could buy it at any stationer's in Milan."
"When
was the last time you saw I mean, encountered Marchese Lodovico
alive?"
"He
sent Orfeo and me to bed when the church bells chimed ten. I heard
him playing scales on the piano downstairs, but not for very long.
Just before I fell asleep, I thought I heard someone go out through
the front door. But that might have been Orfeo. He went downstairs
after he helped me prepare for bed."
"Lodovico
sent him to bed, but he went downstairs again?"
"Yes,"
said Donati unhappily.
"Curioni
thinks Lodovico was dead by three or four in the morning, but might
have died much earlier. So we know he was killed some time between
ten and four. If it was earlier rather than later, Orfeo's had a
very great start of us. God knows if it will be possible to find
him, especially with such a vague description. Still, he hadn't a
passport to leave Lombardy. If he tried to cross any border, he
would have been stopped."
Unless
he had enough money to bribe the customs officers, Donati thought.
Or someone provided him with a false passport.
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