scuola in the Dorsoduro Sestiere. Sansono thought it a waste of time and resources, but he didn’t argue. No-one could argue with the Cardinale. The last man who tried disappeared less than twenty-four hours later and hadn’t been seen since.
They exited the basilica together, stepping out into the piazza. A bitter wind blew in from the north, sweeping their robes around them. Sansono caught his breath, clutching his cape together, grateful for the marten-fur lining in his gloves.
‘Sansono, I’ve been thinking,’ said the Cardinale. ‘And, as you know, when I do this, it often means more work for you and your men, no?’
‘Sì, your grace.’
‘Bene. I know you and the Signori have been active day and night to find our little Estrattore, and I of all people know and appreciate the lengths to which you have gone on Serenissima’s and the Church’s behalf.’ A few steps away from the basilica, the Cardinale stopped in his tracks and turned to face the Captain. ‘You have done well, Captain Sansono.’
Sansono knew what was expected of him, ‘Grazie mille, your grace, you’re too kind.’
‘Ah, is it not God who said the way to enter His kingdom is through benevolence?’ He crossed himself.
Sansono also made the sign rapidly across his chest and then waited. The Cardinale’s features twisted as if he was in great pain.
‘But, my dear Captain Sansono, despite doing your best, your very, very best, it has not been enough. Still the Estrattore eludes capture, still the talk of the “old ways” reaches my ears. I don’t like this.’ He shook his head. ‘Not at all.’
Captain Sansono knew better than to reply.
‘So, I thought about what you could do to turn my displeasure which, as you know, is but small compared to the displeasure of the Great Patriarch, into a different and more satisfactory emotion. And I came up with a new avenue of inquiry.’
‘Your grace? I would be most pleased to know what that might be.’
‘Ah, I thought you would.’ The Cardinale moved closer and draped a heavy arm across Captain Sansono’s shoulders. He began walking again. ‘I have a job for you, Sansono, and you alone. Capisce?’ He didn’t wait for a response. ‘I want you to look into the affairs of a nobile named Ezzelino Maleovelli.’
‘Signorina Dorata’s guardian?’
‘The very one. I want you to find out how he has risen to power quite so quickly; where his wealth has come from. A little over a year ago, I had not heard of him or his ward. Now they are everywhere. He has his long fingers sunk deep into many affairs, many enterprises. I want to know how and why. I also want to know about his friendship with this foreign ambassador – the one from Farrowfare.’
‘Lord Waterford.’
‘Sì. I want to know if it extends beyond the lord enjoying the services of Maleovelli’s … daughters.’ The Cardinale crossed himself again. Knowing it was expected of him, Sansono did the same.
‘It will be done, your grace.’
‘Of course it will be, Sansono, of course it will be.’ The Cardinale removed his arm and held out his hand.
Captain Sansono took it and lowered his head, planting his lips against the great ring of the Cardinale’s office. The jewel was even colder than his chattering lips. He was officially dismissed.
‘Your grace,’ he murmured and went to take his leave. He’d managed two steps when the Cardinale called to him. ‘Only … Sansono?’
‘Sì, your grace?’ The captain paused. A dove flew over his head, forcing him to duck slightly.
‘When you give me your report, which I expect in one week, I do not want to find out that a copy has also gone to the Council of Ten. If I do, I will be more than displeased.’
Captain Sansono swallowed. ‘I understand, your grace.’
‘I thought you might,’ said the Cardinale, beaming at him. With a swirl of red, he turned and disappeared back into the basilica, leaving Sansono standing in the piazza.
As he watched the people scurrying past, their heads bowed, moving as fast as they could to escape the icy winds, it occurred to him that the cold gripping his chest far outweighed that caused by the wind whistling through his clothes.
THE QUESTIONING CRY OF AN OWL broke the silence. Father Morrison ducked as the grey form swooped out of the shadows, winged over his head and past the flaming torches near the main gate to be swallowed by the night. With his heart thumping in his ears, the portly monk gathered up his cassock