The Bellini Card

74

The stadtmeister’s atlas confirmed that Venice and the Ottoman capital, Istanbul, were separated by only four degrees of latitude. Very significant, he thought. Two Mediterranean cities-one sheltered from its direct influence by the Adriatic and the lagoon, and the other by the Sea of Marmara.

Brunelli was just the man for the job.

“Ach, Commissario,” he said, as Brunelli entered. “I need your help.”

“Help, sir?” Brunelli faced his chief with a dull expression. “I was under the impression that Vosper provided you with all the help you need.”

“What? What?” The stadtmeister reddened. “Look, Brunelli. It is my job to organize the disposition of forces in this city to the maximum advantage of the public. Operational necessities. I mean, let us not delude ourselves, what? Sergeant Vosper is a very good man. Good man. But this crime of passion-I cannot afford to squander all my resources on such an inquiry. Sometimes, we must keep the best in reserve.” He grinned, showing his yellow teeth. “Do you follow me, Brunelli? The best, in reserve. And now, I require your help.”

A crime of passion-so that was it! Brunelli could hardly refrain from laughing. Vosper and the stadtmeister in pursuit of a jealous lover who sawed off a man’s head and stuck it on a communion platter. The passionate Signor Brett!

The stadtmeister put his fingertips together.

“I am not quite sure how this situation has arisen,” he began, “but without our knowledge some sort of visit has been arranged, to this city, by a senior functionary of the Ottoman Empire.”

“A pasha in Venice, sir?” Now Brunelli did allow himself a smile.

“Not in the least comic, Brunelli. High matters of state. Not for us to question. I want you to take charge of the, ah, arrangements.”

“Perhaps you could be more specific, Stadtmeister.”

“If I could be more specific, Brunelli, more specific I would be!” the stadtmeister roared, growing very red. “The pasha has sent a man on ahead-he is staying in the American’s apartment, and Vosper is to bring him here, to see us. We must find out what the pasha proposes to do-and how long he will stay.”

“Do we know when he is to arrive, sir?”

“Yes,” the stadtmeister said very quietly. “Yes, Brunelli. He’s arriving from Istanbul tomorrow morning. And you will be his-liaison!”