Read Online The Last Gondola by Edward Sklepowich - Free Book Online Page B

as houseguests at the end of the year.”
    â€œBut why then? You’re not suggesting that they—”
    â€œNot at all,” he interrupted her. “It’s just that it was one of the two times when no one was on the usual schedule, especially not at the end of the year with people who don’t live here coming and going.”
    â€œBut the staff know them very well!”
    â€œTrue enough, but nonetheless there could have been opportunities for getting in that someone took good advantage of.”
    â€œBad advantage is more like it.”
    â€œAnd there’s an aspect of this whole thing that’s stranger than anything else.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    His gaze swept around the richly furnished room. He put his plate down on the table and went to one of the cabinets. He opened the glass door and withdrew an exquisite cameo. In slow motion he put it in his pocket.
    â€œAnd there are a dozen more of them, not to mention your rose Pompadour and bleu celeste Sèvres pieces. Any one of them is worth more than what you’re missing put together, and they would be extremely easy to carry off. And why would anyone want your used clothing? The necklace I can almost understand, although why that particular piece of jewelry? If someone came into the house, he—or she—was running a great risk. It’s the used clothing that keeps puzzling me. The situation would be a lot easier to explain if some of your small valuable items were missing. Do you think they could be?
    â€œI’m beginning to think that anything is possible. Your cures are as bitter as the disease. Maybe more so.”
    â€œI’m administering no cures yet. But be on your guard. Why don’t you hire a night watchman if you’re not ready to install a security system? ‘We are vigilant,’ Vitale kept saying, but he and whoever else he was referring to don’t stay up all night or have eyes in the backs of their head.”
    â€œI cringe at the thought of some man with a flashlight and stick patrolling the house, but I’ll think about it.”
    She remained silent, sipping her tea and gazing at the glass-fronted cabinets.
    â€œWell, caro , you’re keeping your end of our promise,” she said, after a few moments. “I wish I could say the same for myself. With the conversazione coming up on Friday, I haven’t been doing a thing yet about your Samuel Possle. But I’ve got something planned for tomorrow. No, don’t ask what it is. We might put a jinx on it. As soon as I have something to tell you, I will. Just go home and wait. And three Madeira cakes are all wrapped up for you to take with you. One each for you, Natalia, and Gildo.”

15
    For five days after his talk with the Contessa, Urbino was busy, but none of his activities involved Possle or the Contessa’s lost items.
    On a windy and rainy Monday morning he went with Rebecca to the Corderie dell’Arsenale to examine Habib’s installation space. They lunched afterward in a nearby trattoria to discuss the things that they needed to do for Habib before he returned. But all through the meal, part of him was far away. He could tell that Rebecca noticed, but she didn’t say anything.
    The next day he took the train to Milan to see his translator. The hours spent with her, however, only served to increase his anxiety about Possle because she kept asking him what his next project might be.
    When some friends came unexpectedly from Paris for a few days, he welcomed the diversion. He devoted himself to showing them around town and took them on an outing to Torcello in the gondola after Gildo had been able to arrange for an additional rower. It had been delightful, if rather chilly, but he had been unable to part company with Possle’s ghost, who seemed to be one more passenger, albeit insubstantial, for the two young men to row across the lagoon.
    Urbino restrained himself from