though no-one will yet confirm, that this Tallow, Tallow Pelleta, was a member of his family and his apprentice. And so, your grace,’ finished Captain Sansono, ‘it was the soldiers who arrived after the homicidi of the chandler who informed us that a masked Bond Rider also attempted to kidnap the apprentice candlemaker.’
The Cardinale rubbed his chin. ‘Hmmm. Bond Riders. The unholy alliance between them and the Estrattore has been known for centuries. No doubt they’re up to something. For now, I have other prey to catch.’ He stared above the captain’s head for a moment. ‘The young boy. The one who leapt over the bridge – presumably, he lived in this quartiere?’
‘That is what we believe, your grace.’
‘And he managed to elude the Bond Riders?’
‘The locals were quite clear they never captured him. Some say he jumped into the canal, others that he simply vanished. The soldiers were unable to get much detail. I am sure your grace will understand, they were very distressed at the death of the Macelleria boy, the ragazzo Dante. His family are well known in their quartiere; most of the focus was on what had happened to him.’
‘Of course. The loss of a son is tragic.’ The Cardinale made a small sound, lowered his chin and shook his head. He waited a full minute before speaking again. ‘But I am very curious, captain, as to what the chandler was doing on the bridge, detached from the mob who, it seems, mindlessly followed a commotion. Why it’s his blood spilled and no-one else’s? Why he was the one in control of the apprentice’s dog? You did say, did you not, that the dead dog belonged to the apprentice candlemaker?’
‘Sì, your grace.’
‘You see, captain, this presents a very curious puzzle. I have no doubt whatsoever that this candlemaker, this young boy named …’
‘Tallow, your grace.’
‘Tallow, is an Estrattore. I recall earlier reports of an “angel of mercy” in this sestiere, that some of the residents here, against all possibility, survived the Morto Assiderato and that they were attributing their continued existence to candles? Is that not so?’
‘Sì, your grace.’
‘I am thinking that it’s very likely this Tallow is responsible for those magical candles, that this Tallow is, in fact, the “angel of mercy” that I am very curious about. What do you think, captain?’
‘I think your grace is very perceptive.’
‘That means that not only were the popolani knowingly buying suspicious products from this young man, but they’re also complicit in concealing him from the authorities. Furthermore, they’ve been doing so for years. This is a very serious charge, is it not?’
‘Sì, your grace.’
‘And what is the penalty?’
‘Death, your grace.’
The Cardinale inclined his head. ‘Sì. Morto.’ His lips curled. ‘Where exactly did the candlemaker live?’
Captain Sansono shifted uncomfortably. ‘That’s something we’re unclear about, your grace. These peasants, they’re very protective of one another. Those who were questioned by the soldiers were vague in their responses.’
‘The popolani,’ he chuckled. ‘How sweet. They probably even consider this Estrattore to be one of them.’
‘So it seems, your grace.’
‘What about the chandler’s family – have they been questioned?’
‘Sì, your grace. They too were … imprecise.’
‘Hmm.’ The Cardinale pushed himself away from the side of the bridge and returned to where he’d been squatting earlier. His servants quickly joined him, holding their lanterns up high. They illuminated the bridge, turning the cold, dark space into an intimate one. The Cardinale peered down at the slick stones. What remained of the blood was oil-like across the surface, difficult for anything but a trained eye to detect. The captain marvelled that the Cardinale could read anything from what remained and in such poor light.
‘I do not like vague, Captain Sansono. I do not like imprecise either.’
The captain knew better than to respond.
‘You said there’s also some confusion about what happened to the chandler’s body?’
‘Sì, your grace. Some of the witnesses said that the Macelleria family retrieved the body; others say it never arrived at their premises. You know how particular the mourning rituals are, how seriously they are taken.’
‘Did anyone follow up on this?’
The captain paused. ‘Your grace, the local soldiers – some of them knew the family; they didn’t want to force –’
‘Of course!’ The Cardinale threw his hands up in the air. ‘Of course they didn’t. I understand. God bless their thoughtfulness. And God bless yours too, captain.’
‘Your grace?’
‘Captain Sansono.’ The Cardinale spun towards the captain and draped an arm across his shoulders. The captain gulped. ‘Sansono,’ he said softly, leaning close