Read Online The Mammoth Book of Best British Mysteries by Maxim Jakubowski - Free Book Online Page B

preferred them to be alone.
    “And you would have been able to match Darius’s hospitality? I do not think so, Joly.”
    The next day was even hotter. Lucia went out to work early on and was intent on shopping during the afternoon. After lunching on a ham sandwich – no point in spoiling his appetite for the
evening’s feast – Joly embarked on a last stroll around the gardens of Castello. Finding a seat beneath a leafy tree, he finished Death in Venice , then ambled back through the
alleyways, absorbing the smells of the fish-sellers’ stalls and the chocolate shops, wondering how long it would be before he returned to La Serenissima. He understood what had kept Sanborn
here. Once you became intoxicated with the beauties of Venice, the rest of the world must seem drab by comparison. But he was keen to sample Rome and after the previous night, he was more than ever
convinced that this was the right time to make a break with Lucia. Sanborn was welcome to her.
    When he arrived back at the flat, Lucia was short-tempered in the way that he now associated with her rare attacks of nervousness. She was bent upon impressing Sanborn, and she’d bought a
slinky new red dress with a neckline so daring it bordered on indecent. It must have cost her a month’s wages. A carefully targeted investment – assuming she had footed the bill, that
was. Joly wondered if she’d met up with Sanborn during the day and managed to charm the cash out of him. He wouldn’t put it past either of them. So what? It was none of his business;
soon he would be out of here.
    The American and his sidekick were waiting for them at the appointed time, sitting at a table inside a restaurant close to Rialto. Sanborn’s suit tonight was a shade of pale cream.
Zuichini was scruffy by comparison, his face more reminiscent of a scary carnival mask than ever.
    “Lucia, you look dazzling!”
    Sanborn kissed her on both cheeks and Zuichini did likewise. Joly had never seen the bookbinder show such animation. The little dark eyes seemed to be measuring Lucia’s tanned flesh, no
doubt wondering what she might look like when wearing no clothes. His attention pleased her. Perhaps she was hoping the two old men would fight over her. Even the waiter who took their order
allowed his gaze to linger on her half-exposed breasts for longer than was seemly. The restaurant specialized in finest beef steak and Sanborn ordered four bottles of Bollinger.
    “Tonight we celebrate!” he announced. “Over the past twenty four hours, we have become firm friends. And although Joly is to move on tomorrow, with the lovely Lucia to follow,
it is my firm conviction that all four of us will be reunited before too long.”
    As their glasses clinked, Lucia’s eyes were glowing. While they ate, the conversation turned to Joly’s plans. He made it clear that they remained fluid. It was his style, he said, to
trust to luck. Sanborn challenged this, arguing that even a young man needed roots.
    “Learn from my mistake, Joly. Until I discovered the wonders of this marvellous city, my life lacked direction. You need something to anchor your existence. A place, firm friends, perhaps
a trade.”
    Zuichini nodded with unaccustomed animation. “Right. That is right.”
    “Listen to this good man. He knows the joys of a craft, the unique pleasure that comes with creation. This is where you can steal a march on me, Joly. I am proud of my collection of books,
undeniably, but I have never experienced the delight of creating a masterpiece of my own. I cannot paint, or compose, or write to any level of acceptable competence. I lack skills of a practical
nature. But you, my young friend, are different. If you were to put your talents to good purpose . . .”
    “I have an idea!” Lucia clapped her hands. Champagne went to her head. After a single glass, already she was raising her voice and her skin was flushed. “Once you have seen
Rome, you could come back here and train as