Deadly to the Sight (36 page)

It would be a challenge, and he needed to start with the man himself.

Somehow Possle had managed, in an age of high publicity, to remain enigmatic and elusive, and therefore all the more intriguing to Urbino.

Most of Urbino's other work had been excavations of the distant past, but with this project he would be visiting a much more recent and palpable one. The man and the house; the house and the man. Urbino wanted entry to both.

In a few days he would see someone who should be able to tell him more current things about the Ca' Pozza. As for the man himself, Urbino was putting a lot of faith in the Contessa. If she could set things in motion, his own form of boldness, often underestimated by others, and his mastery of the diplomatic arts, if not duplicity itself, would gain him the prize.

And he would do his best to find out what had happened to the Contessa's items. The more he thought about it, the more it puzzled him that clothing was missing. Someone might have coveted the cascade necklace on the mistaken assumption that it would bring him a lot of money, but why would anyone have gone to the risk of stealing used clothing, even if it did include a Regency scarf?

Yes, there was a bit of a mystery here, but Urbino had no doubt that the Contessa's mind was not the problem. It was as sharp as ever.

3

When Urbino went to bed, it was not to have a restful night. He suffered his dream again.

He was in a room whose proportions were irregular, a room crowded with furniture, books, and tapestries. On angular chairs sat two figures, immobile like royalty in a Byzantine mosaic and dressed in flowing white clothes. One was a small man with the features of Samuel Possle in his prime. The other was veiled. Urbino assumed it was a woman because the Contessa's silver cascade was unmistakable against her chest.

The Contessa, dressed in a gold-sequined, embroidered silk vest he had brought back for her from Morocco, approached the two figures. Before she reached them the tapestries caught fire. Smoke filled the room. The Contessa collapsed to the floor.

Urbino always awoke at this poi3nt, covered in sweat and with his heart pounding. It was no different tonight.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2002 by Edward Sklepowich

Cover design by Elizabeth Connor

ISBN: 978-1-5040-0134-2

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