Muta. The repeated âCiao!â of her brilliantly plumed parrot that she kept in a brass cage on the pergola was a counterpoint to the serious tone of her words.
âWhat is it, Barbara?â
âItâs that poor man we saw under the arcade outside Florianâs, the one who looked so ghastly, the one with the bloody handkerchief. Heâs dead!â
Urbino was somewhat taken aback. It was indeed disturbing that the man had died, whoever he was, but as far as he was aware, the contessa hadnât known him. Neither had he.
âIâm sorry to hear that, Barbara.â He paused. âBut you didnât say that you knew him.â
âI do now. I mean I know who he is â or was!â A trace of exasperation rasped her voice. âI know because of Sebastian. I was going to call you about it today but then â then I found out he died, Konrad Zoll.â
She wasnât making much sense.
âIs that his name, the man we saw?â
âYes, Konrad Zoll. A German. He had been living in Venice for a year. Strange that our paths only crossed that one time at Florianâs. Last week I got a letter from Sebastian with an article about him. It had his photograph. Thatâs how I identified him, although the poor man changed so! He was an art collector.â
âBut why did Sebastian send the article?â
âBecause of Nick Hollander. Since Sebastian asked me to invite Hollander to the regatta party, he thought it might be nice if I invited Zoll, too. Hollander is Zollâs stepson â rather he was his stepson. No, not because Zoll is dead,â she said before he could ask for clarification. âHollanderâs mother and Zoll divorced five years ago.â
âHis ex-stepson, then.â
âYes. The way you have an ex-brother-in-law from your divorce. And I assume they must have been close the way you and Eugene are. Sebastian would never have suggested that I bring them together if they hadnât been.â
Urbino, who knew the contessaâs young cousin was capable of this and more, remained silent. He had traveled through Morocco a few years before with Sebastian. The trip had turned out to be disastrous. They had parted company in Fes.
âBut I still donât know how you found out that this Zoll is dead.â
âSebastian called this morning. Hollander told him. And thatâs where you get involved.â
âMe? How?â
âBy going to see Hollander and offering our condolences. Heâs staying at the Gritti Palace. I would do it myself if I werenât up here.â
âHe didnât leave after Zoll died?â
âNot according to Sebastian.â
âI guess the dark young man with Zoll was Hollander.â
âApparently not. Heâs not dark and he has hardly a hair on his head, according to Sebastian. Try to see him later today or tomorrow. Perhaps he can come up to Asolo this weekend. The both of you. Iâll ring him. He could use a change of scene. Venice in August isnât the best place to be when youâre grieving. Heâll be welcome here.â Once again, this time as if on cue, the parrot uttered its remarkably human-sounding âCiao!â in an even more welcoming tone. âAnd even if he doesnât come, Iâd like you to come. Iâll show you the article Sebastian sent.â The contessa sighed. âPoor man. He was so vigorous-looking such a short time ago.â
Urbino was reviewing his conversation with the contessa when a knock sounded on the library door. It was Natalia, his housekeeper and cook.
âGildo would like to speak with you, Signor Urbino.â
The smile on Nataliaâs round face was not for Urbino, although she liked him well enough. It was for Gildo, who was her pet. Ever since the young man had started to work as Urbinoâs gondolier a year before, she had taken him under her wing. She delighted in bringing meals to his