The Mammoth Book of Historical Crime Fic - By Mike Ashley Page 0,99

in the Libro d’Oro – the Golden Book of ancient families of Venice. Now, he half-expected the old man to rise from his grave and peremptorily demand he leave. Instead, another voice from the past did quite the opposite.

“Welcome to Ca’ Dolfin, Nick. It’s about time you saw inside those doors.”

Suddenly, his breath was taken away in a far more exhilarating way than when he had raced Katie. He was so disconcerted he managed only one syllable.

“Cat?”

Down the other end of the long-pillared hallway stood a woman, slender and erect. She was in semi-darkness, and for a moment Zuliani thought he had been thrown back in time. It was the Caterina Dolfin of forty years ago – slim, but curvy in all the right places, her exquisitely carved features framed by thick blonde hair that tumbled over her shoulders. He moved towards this vision, hardly believing it as real, and she stepped into the light of three candles set atop a tall stand. Then he saw that his vision was real after all. Of course it was his lover Cat, and of course she was older, just as he was. Closer to her, he saw the wrinkles round the corners of her eyes, but they were the same clear, blue eyes, full of mischief. The blonde hair had strands of silver, but was just as thick and alive. She smiled at Zuliani, and her face lit up just as it used to when he stroked her naked body.

“What do you think of Katie’s old grandma, then?”

Zuliani pulled a face.

“You’ve aged somewhat better than I have, Caterina.”

She reached out a hand, and stroked his weather-beaten, wrinkled face.

“Ah yes, but I like older men.”

Before either of them could say another word, Katie broke into their colloquy.

“Granny Cat, can Nick stay here? Only, his house has burned down.”

A look of alarm crossed Caterina’s aquiline features.

“Burnt down? My God, how did that happen?” She squeezed Zuliani’s arm. “You weren’t inside, were you?”

Zuliani waved her concerns aside, still unable to tear his gaze from her face.

“No, no. I am fine.”

Katie couldn’t contain herself, though, and had to take over the conversation.

“But Francesco Tiepolo isn’t. He burned to a crisp. I saw him.”

Cat turned a stern gaze on Zuliani.

“When I asked my granddaughter to talk to you, I didn’t expect you to show her dead bodies. God, you haven’t changed, have you?”

She turned her back on him and took a few steps away into the semi-darkness. Katie was about to speak, but Zuliani quieted her with a raised finger. He walked over to Cat and, from behind her, whispered in her ear.

“So you sent Katie to spy on me. I thought it was all her idea. Of course, I didn’t know then that she was your granddaughter. I was flattered enough to imagine that anyone of her generation had even heard of Niccolo Zuliani. All my celebrity is in the past, after all.” Then he recalled the fire. “And what was left of it has just gone up in smoke.”

Cat’s face, when she looked at him again, showed her deep feelings. She looked distraught.

“I am so sorry about that. But surely there are friends who can help you? You were always such a …”

“Schemer? I was, but that is the problem. People you get to know only want you for your expertise, or else you con them out of money and don’t want to cross their paths again.” He squinted at Cat as another thought crossed his mind. “Was it your idea that Katie asked about my love-life?”

Cat Dolfin had the good grace to blush at this stage and look away from Zuliani. He laughed uproariously.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

She stamped her foot, and bunched her hands into fists.

“Don’t you laugh at me. It was you who dumped me forty years ago when I was carrying your child.”

That stopped Zuliani in his tracks.

“My child? So Gurbesu was right all along.”

Cat wagged a finger at him.

“Gurbesu, eh? That was your Eastern … trollop, I suppose.”

Zuliani gave her a wry smile.

“One of many, actually. But none so … exotic as Gurbesu.” He leaned forward, and whispered in her ear again. “She reminded me of you.”

Cat pushed him away, but she couldn’t wipe a smile off her lips. This old man with grey hair shot through his red locks was as roguish as he had been all those years ago. She couldn’t help loving him all over again.

“You couldn’t keep your hands off me, could you?”

“Not then, not now.”

He grasped