The Mammoth Book of Historical Crime Fic - By Mike Ashley Page 0,94

travellers’ tales. But he knew they all were the God’s honest truth. By and large.

The girl shrugged at his question, and pouted.

“You are so great a man, and I’m just a child. You wouldn’t have paid me any attention.”

Zuliani grinned.

“Now I know you are lying. Someone your age thinks they know everything, and is full of bombast.” He peered closely at Katie.

“Are you spying on me for the Doge?”

It was the girl’s turn to laugh.

“Do you really think the Doge would employ a child to check on you? Besides, you’re not so important that you would worry so great a man.”

Zuliani was taken aback by the girl’s poise. It reminded him of someone from his distant past, at a time when he had to flee Venice under a cloud. He recovered himself quickly.

“So you are of the Gradenigo faction. The Valiers always rolled over for those in power.”

The girl’s face reddened at this scornful criticism of her family, but she was not thrown as much as Zuliani had hoped. She merely returned his gaze, and tossed a question back at him.

“Where were you going this morning? To the Doge’s palace to split on the Tiepolos?”

Zuliani knew he would not like to have this child as a business opponent. She was too canny for her own good. If she – a mere child – knew about his involvement in the conspiracy, who else did? She saw the wary look in his eyes, and reassured him.

“Don’t worry, no one else knows. Though it was easy enough to get your servant drunk and have him tell me who had been visiting you.”

Zuliani cursed Vettor under his breath, and resolved to fire the man. Or slit his throat. He felt as if he was trapped in a vice, neither knowing if he should betray the plot or ride it out and pray no one would link him to it. The girl smiled at his discomfiture.

“I can help you, if you like. You don’t want the Doge to know you were even linked with the Tiepolos’ plot, do you? So you can’t tell him about it without implicating yourself.”

Zuliani shook his head in bewilderment. Was this a girl or a demon?

“What do you suggest I do, Katie Valier?”

The girl settled back in her chair, letting her cloak fall open. It revealed the short, boyish tunic she had worn to fool Zuliani in the first place. A little ashamed of himself, he admired the long legs that were encased in tight leggings. She was enjoying her triumph, and didn’t notice his lascivious look.

“I have a cousin – Marco Donato – who is close to the Gradenigos. He can warn the Doge, and even put in a good word for you as his source of information.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea, mistress. But why would you do this for me? What is your reward?”

The girl sighed with pleasure.

“In return, you can tell me all about your sexual exploits at the court of Kubilai Khan.”

*

It was Monday the 15th of June, the Feast of St Vitus, and the conspiracy was in motion. Two groups, led by Bajamonte Tiepolo and Marco Querini, made their move at first light, crossing the Rialto Bridge and advancing towards the Piazza and the Doge’s Palace. They were supposed to have been supported by a third group led by Badoero Badoer from the mainland. Unfortunately, on the night before, there had been a violent summer storm, which whipped up the waters of the lagoon. Badoer and his party were unable to cross to the city. Not knowing this, and unaware that the Doge had been informed of their intentions by a certain Marco Donato, the others galloped through the narrow streets in driving rain to shouts of “Liberta, e Morte al Doge Gradenigo”.

Bajamonte Tiepolo might have pulled it off, but his arrival in the Piazza had been delayed slightly. Zuliani had received a message from Marco Donato by the agency of his new friend Katie, who was at his door at some unearthly hour of the morning. She had merely said that the Doge wanted Tiepolo held up – minutes would suffice. A reluctant Zuliani had pulled his heavy, fur-trimmed cloak around him and braved the rain. He suspected the ruse was a way of the Doge showing the conspirators that Zuliani was a turncoat. He didn’t like it, but the die was cast. He hovered by the great elder tree outside the front of San Zulian Church until Tiepolo and his men approached.