The Devil in Music (24 page)

"Why
is this town so closely guarded?" MacGregor asked Julian.
"It's worse than Milan!"

"Smuggling,"
said Julian under his breath. "We're only a few miles from the
Swiss border."

"And
they need all these soldiers and customs men to stop it?"

"No,"
murmured Julian, "they need them to appear to stop it. To stop
it in reality would require twice as large a force, all
incorruptible, and with eyes in the backs of their heads."

Once
through the gates, the marchesa's party found themselves in a
confusion of narrow, filthy streets, overhung with crumbling brick
upper stories that all but blocked out the sun. Houses, shops, and
even churches were dilapidated and soot-stained. Half-naked urchins
gaped at the parade of carriages; black-clad crones gloomily crossed
themselves. MacGregor looked about him in disgust at the dirt, and
dismay at the poverty. Then, all in a moment, the houses looming
over thTn fell away. MacGregor gasped, and even Julian, who had
known what he would see, caught his breath.

Como
harbour lay in a bowl of wooded mountains, their lower slopes spread
with white, pink, and yellow cottages, their upper reaches crowned
with ancient shrines. Reflections of clouds danced on the deep-blue
water. The pier teemed with slim, agile rowing boats, each with a
canopy of three or four curved wooden strips and a piece of canvas
wrapped around a pole at the top, ready to be pulled down as a
shelter against the sun or rain. Some boatmen slumbered beneath
these awnings, while others plied for trade along the shore. When
the marchesa's party came in view, they shouted with delight, for the
lakeside roads were poor, and the marchesa and her companions would
have to proceed by water.

A
fleet of boats was quickly engaged. The marchesa, as if determined
to keep Julian and de la Marque in maddening equilibrium, invited
them both to share her boat, while MacGregor went with

Carlo,
whose command of English and interest in science had quickly led to a
rapport between them. Donati and Sebastiano accompanied them, and
the others disposed of themselves as best they might.

The
boatmen pushed off, standing in the bows of their boats and plying
their long oars expertly. Como grew more beautiful the further they
left it behind, its drab houses gleaming white against the dark green
hills, its boats bobbing gaily, its church roofs catching the sun.
Then the town shrank to a speck, and the marchesa's little flotilla
proceeded jauntily up the lake.

This
arm of the lake was a narrow, irregular sweep, alternately pierced by
promontories or swelling into bays. Cliffs rose on either side,
their bald, bleak summits draped in mist, their lower slopes mantled
with oaks, chestnuts, and wild cherries. On some of the hillsides
peasants had built small, fragile terrace farms planted with
mulberries and vines. Villages hugged the shore, their ancient
belfries rising over the trees. An occasional villa, white and
elegant, nestled amid rosebushes or myrtle and orange groves. The
marchesa pointed out Villa Garuo, where Queen Caroline, estranged
wife of the present King of England, had lived with her Italian
lover.

Some
eight miles north of Como, a lofty crag jutted out from the western
shore. On its summit, a grey castle perched, its walls bristling
with stone teeth, doubled-pronged like the tuft of an arrow. "That
is Castello Malvezzi," the marchesa said.

At
the base of the crag was the villa, gleaming like a pearl against the
dark cliff side In front was a semicircular terrace, with a marble
balustrade over the lake and a diminutive pier beneath. Several
boats, gaily decorated with ribbons and flowers, were tied to slender
poles.

The
marchesa was not looking that way. Her enigmatic gaze was fixed on a
nearer object, linked to the villa by an avenue of plane trees along
the shore. It was a tiny octagonal building, painted white and blue,
with Moorish windows, a blue dome, and a balcony over the water.

Julian
did not need to ask what this building was. De la Marque likewise
surveyed it in silence. The boatman crossed himself as he rowed past
it and muttered a prayer for "i poveri morn" the poor dead
ones.

As
the boat drew near the villa, servants' heads appeared at the
grey-shuttered windows. Footmen streamed out of discreet doors
beneath the imposing double stairway that led to the formal entrance.
They ran across the terrace and down to the pier, where they stood
waving handkerchiefs and waiting to help the marchesa ashore.

De
la Marque turned to Julian, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. "Your
heart must beat faster on seeing this place, Mr. Kestrel."

"Why
should you think so?" Julian enquired.

"Because
this is to be the scene of your triumph the stage on which you'll
conjure up Orfeo, when no one else has the slightest idea where in
the wide world he's concealed himself."

"I
can't promise to make him rise up from the floorboards," said
Julian. "But the logical place to begin looking for someone
who's gone missing is wherever he was last seen."

"Observe
the English mind at work," said de la Marque to the marchesa.
"It's like a well-kept lodging-house: whether amply or sparsely
furnished, it's always orderly."

"You
seem to doubt Signer Kestrel's ability to solve my husband's murder,"
the marchesa remarked. "Perhaps the two of you would like to
wager on it?"

De
la Marque bowed. "Marchesa, I must decline. My English friends
have acquainted me with Signer Kestrel's prowess at solving crimes,
and, far from doubting his abilities, I am firmly convinced that if
he can't find Orfeo, no one ever will." De la Marque slanted a
speculative gaze at Julian. "I will propose another wager, Mr.
Kestrel. I'll stake three thousand francs that if you do find Orfeo,
you'll regret it."

Julian's
interest quickened. "Why?"

"C'est
evident. Since Orfeo is almost certainly the murderer of Marchese
Lodovico, he's likely to object strongly to being found, and we know
that his objections can be of a rather violent nature. On the other
hand, there's always the chance he may be innocent, in which case I
should think it would trouble your English conscience to turn him
over to the police. Do you suppose they'll consider anyone else as a
suspect, once Orfeo falls into their hands?"

The
boat bumped gently against the pier. Julian and de la Marque both
moved to pay the boatman, but Julian was quicker. De la Marque
revenged himself by alighting first and giving the marchesa his arm.
She watched their manoeuvres serenely, a smile playing around her
lips.

The
other boats docked and discharged their passengers. Mac-Gregor found
Julian looking after de la Marque and the marchesa. "What do
you make of that Frenchman?" MacGregor asked.

"He
doesn't wish me to like him, and I'm obliging him in that regard.
When a man tries so hard to be provoking, it would be ungracious not
to be provoked."

"Why
should he want to provoke you?"

"I
think provoking me is only for his own amusement. His paramount goal
is to warn me off." Which makes three people, thought Julian,
who've tried to warn me off this investigation: de la Marque,
Raversi, and, more subtly, Carlo.

Just
then he heard Carlo's voice. "Fetch my trunk, Guido. I want to
dress for dinner."

Guido
was sitting on the edge of the marble pier, dicing with one of the
boatmen. He must have heard Carlo's summons, but he did not look
around.

"Guido,"
Carlo repeated, in the silky tone of one determined not to lose his
temper.

Guido
threw the dice once more before slewing his gaze around to Carlo.
"Master?"

"Bring
my trunk to my room. I'm going to dress."

Guido
grudgingly heaved himself up and swung Carlo's portmanteau
effortlessly onto his shoulders. He set his tall hat at a defiant
angle and trudged away, his gold earrings swinging against his heavy
jaw. Carlo lifted his eyes heavenward, as if asking for patience,
and followed.

"That's
a brazen-faced fellow!" MacGregor exclaimed. "Are
servants allowed to be so saucy in this country?"

"Not
generally. Perhaps Carlo didn't engage him for his virtues as a
servant."

"For
what, then?"

Julian
shrugged. "Guido is from Naples, and as Raversi pointed out,
Naples is a hotbed of Carbonari."

All
the bedrooms at the villa were on the upper floor. The marchesa's
foreign guests were favoured with rooms at the front, overlooking the
lake. Julian's was in the southeast corner, MacGregor's was next to
his, and de la Marque's was on the other side of MacGregor's. Then
came the main staircase, and finally the marchesa's little suite in
the northeast corner. A broad corridor, its walls covered in red
silk and hung with paintings and tapestries, ran between the front
and back rooms. Grimani's room was in the southwest corner, opposite
Julian's. Carlo's was next to his; then the row of rooms was broken
by a balcony overlooking the garden behind the villa. An unobtrusive
servants' staircase followed; then came Donati's room in the
northwest corner, opposite the marchesa's. It did not escape
Julian's notice

that
de la Marque was placed closer to the marchesa than he was himself,
and that the only person even closer was blind and would not be able
to see anything that might go on between them.

In
other respects, the location of Julian's room was one of its charms.
It had two balconies, one commanding a panorama of the lake, the
other overlooking a charming orchard garden on the south terrace.
The wallpaper was white, splashed with blue, green, and purple birds
and flowers in the Chinese style. The bed was hung with blue damask
curtains and crowned with gilt finials of mermaids.

Julian
dressed for dinner, then went downstairs to the great square salon
known as the Hall of Marbles. It had a grey and black mosaic floor
and a replica of the Parthenon frieze running around the upper walls.
Busts of Italian statesmen and poets stood in each corner; fragments
of Roman columns were ranged along the walls. But the room's chief
glories were two life-sized marble groups by Canova. One showed a
grave and lovely Minerva subduing the Centaur with her wisdom; the
other, in startling contrast, swooningly depicted Cupid embracing
Psyche, both of them naked, their lips about to meet in a kiss.

Somewhat
to Julian's chagrin, the marchesa caught him contemplating this work.
His face grew hot, but he kept his manner cool. They discussed the
sculpture's merits with a dispassion that Julian, for one, was far
from feeling; then the marchesa offered to show him more of the
house.

That
was when the ghosts came out in force. Impossible to explore the
villa without thinking of its former inhabitants. Julian could
picture them all so clearly: Lucia, the bright, brisk peasant girl;
sullen, skulking Tonio; Lodovico, arriving for Orfeo's lessons and
filling the villa with his imperious presence. And of course there
was Orfeo, absorbed in his music, his other passions known only to
himself.

The
marchesa explained that the ground floor of the villa was given over
to kitchens and storerooms, the first floor to public rooms, the
second floor to bedchambers, and the attic to servants' quarters.
She and Julian began their circuit of the first floor in the library,
which was lined with exquisitely bound books but conspicuously
lacking in tables or chairs for reading them. Julian supposed it was
only to be expected that, in a musical household like Lodovico's,
literature would get rather short shrift.

They
passed through a frescoed parlour to the billiard room, which was
gaily if grandiosely painted with scenes of Greek and Roman sporting
events. From there they crossed the Hall of Marbles to the

elegant
dining room, where servants were busily laying the cloth for dinner.

Next
door was the drawing room, with cream marble walls and turquoise
hangings and upholstery. Julian's interest was caught by a
magnificent family tree hanging on the wall. The branches bore
golden apples, each with a name and date of birth. An inscription
above the tree read VIVA CASA MALVEZZIANNO 1742, but some apples had
been painted in later, including those bearing the names of Lodovico,
Carlo, Rinaldo, and Rinaldo's children, Niccolo and Bianca

"Conte
Carlo's children aren't mentioned," Julian noticed.

"There
wasn't room," said the marchesa coolly. "He has six, you
know."