The Devil in Music (76 page)

"I
knew nothing about the murder. I didn't even hear he was dead until
some days after I left the villa. He and I had fallen out several
times lately, and I believed our natures were too hopelessly at odds
for us to get on any better in the future."

"Did
you continue your training?"

"No."

"Why
not, if your voice showed such promise?"

"I
should have been hard-pressed to find another teacher the equal of
Maestro Donati." Julian added more quietly, "I'd never
wholeheartedly embraced the idea of a stage career in any case. I'd
been swept away by the marchese's enthusiasm, Maestro Donati's
genius, and my own love for music."

"If
you had such a regard for Maestro Donati," sneered Grimani, "why
didn't you take proper leave of him, instead of disappearing in the
night?"

"You're
right," said Julian gravely. "It was an appalling failure
of courtesy. I ask your forgiveness, Maestro."

"And
I give it, my son." There was just the faintest tinge of
amusement in Donati's voice. Julian felt a rush of affection. My
dear Maestro, he thought, you always knew when I was keeping
something dark!

"All
the same," said Donati wistfully, "I'm sorry to see my
training go to waste."

"That
could never be, Maestro. You taught me not only to sing, but to
listen to understand music as I never had before. You taught me what
it was to be an artist. I shall always remember and be grateful for
that."

"I'm
glad to see how much technique you still remember. You're out of
practice, but your voice is in better form than I should have
expected."

"I
must own," said Julian, "I've been practising."

"I
thought as much," said Donati, smiling. "But where?"

"The
grottos. I used to go there sometimes when I was out walking, before
Rinaldo's murder confined us all here."

MacGregor
exclaimed, "That's why you did that experiment to see if noise
in the grottos carried outside the caves! But were you already
planning that prank of serenading us in the garden?"

"No.
That only came to me after Commissario Grimani declared the
investigation was making no progress here, and Conte Carlo proposed
enlisting the Bow Street Runners to search for Orfeo in England.
Carlo's motives are obvious now. But his proposal was reasonable in
itself unless you knew, as I did, that Orfeo wasn't guilty.

I
didn't want our party to break up, and I certainly didn't want any
effort wasted on hunting for Orfeo in England. So I thought it best
to let you all know that Orfeo was here."

"But
why were you writing a letter to that Bow Street Runner to ask for
his help in finding Orfeo?" MacGregor asked.

"I
needed an excuse to withdraw to the library while the rest of you
were on the terrace. I also thought I owed it to Vance to warn him,
in the event there really was a search for Orfeo in England, that he
would be hunting for a mare's nest. I would have found some veiled
way of conveying that in my letter."

"But
my son," said Donati, "if you didn't plan your serenade in
advance, why were you practising your singing in the grottos?"

"Maestro,"
said Julian simply, "how could I come back to this place and not
wish to sing?"

Donati
smiled.

"What
I want to know," said Grimani, "is how you, Maestro, could
possibly have spent the past ten days under the same roof with Signer
Kestrel and not recognized him as Orfeo."

"There's
nothing astonishing in that," said Julian quickly. "Maestro
Donati knew me as a penniless music student he wouldn't have expected
me to be resurrected as a dandy. And when I first met him as Julian
Kestrel, I had catarrh, so he couldn't have recognized my voice."

"That
was convenient," Grimani bit off.

Julian
smiled ruefully. "A little snuff in my handkerchief was of the
greatest assistance. For that, too, Maestro, I ask your pardon. I
had no means of confiding in you about what I was doing, and if I
were discovered to be Orfeo, I wanted you to be able to say
truthfully that you didn't know. Of course I was disconcerted to
learn that you would be coming here with us. I couldn't feign
catarrh indefinitely. I could only avoid you as much as possible and
hope for the best."

But
of course Donati had found him out soon enough. Julian had guessed
as much when Donati made a point of telling him how he had instructed
Sebastiano never to leave him alone. Donati had trusted Julian
sufficiently not to betray his secret, yet he had recognized that his
trust might be misplaced and had wanted Julian to know he was on his
guard. In response, Julian had advised Sebastiano to keep a loaded
pistol at hand, thus arming Sebastiano against himself. Donati, it
seemed, had understood this for the pledge of good faith it was.

Grimani
broke in on Julian's reflections. "Where did you go when you
left the villa on the night of the murder?"

"I
roamed about the mountains for perhaps a week, then entered
Switzerland at Lugano."

"And
why this sudden desire to go mountaineering?"

Julian
smiled. "I thought it would be good for my health."

"Your
whole proceedings reek of secrecy and intrigue." Grimani
stalked back and forth for a few moments, then rounded on Julian
again. "This story Monsieur de la Marque told about the Comte
d'Aubret's protege. Was that you?"

Julian
was silent for a moment. "The Comte d'Aubret was my benefactor,
yes."

"He
was a notorious liberal," said Grimani.

"He
had far too much taste to become notorious for anything."

"Be
that as it may, he was a liberal. He sent you into Italy to spy for
him perhaps to assist the Carbonari."

"The
Comte d'Aubret was not an incendiary. He had an open, enquiring
mind, which gave him the reputation of a liberal among the Ultras of
the Faubourg St. Germain. But whatever his politics, he didn't
involve me in them. In fact, he strongly advised me to keep out of
Italian political disputes."

Grimani
rounded on de la Marque. "Did you know Signor Kestrel was the
Comte d'Aubret's protege, whose name you claimed not to remember?"

"I
hadn't the least idea." De la Marque laughed. "I wonder
how Mr. Kestrel kept his countenance while I told him all about the
comte and his protege! You must have found that extraordinarily
amusing, mon vieux. Or perhaps not: I daresay you had a bad moment
or two, wondering if I would suddenly remember the protege's name and
expose you. And of course you were obliged to pass on my information
to Commissario Grimani, even at the risk he might ferret out the
protege's identity. If it were discovered you'd kept such an
important clue to yourself, people might have wondered why."

Grimani
cogitated, his eyes screwed into slits. At last he said to Julian,
"I don't for a moment believe you've told me the whole story.
But after such a lapse of time, it would be pointless to try to build
a case against you. So here's what I've decided. You will leave
Lombardy tomorrow morning. The official reason will be that you may
have made enemies in the course of this investigation, and I can't
answer to your government for your safety. I'll give you an escort
of

gendarmes
to accompany you to the Swiss border and see that you cross it."

Julian
bowed. "You're very kind, Signor Commissario."

"One
thing more, Signor Kestrel." Grimani's ice-water eyes held
Julian's gaze. "In the future, I must advise you, for your
health: stay out of Austrian Italy." He turned on his heel and
went out.

The
others began to retire. Valeriano and Francesca thanked Julian
warmly for all he had done to transform their prospects. They had no
sooner gone than MacGregor approached with Fletcher, Lucia, and St.
Carr.

Julian
said to Fletcher, "I owe you a debt of gratitude for taking on
Orfeo's identity as you did. But I don't precisely understand why
you did it."

"Lucia
asked me," said Fletcher.

"I
told Commissario Grimani about the hiding place in the grottos,"
Lucia explained. "But he said he wouldn't believe me unless I
told him who Orfeo was. I was afraid to tell him it was you. He
hated Orfeo so much I thought he might not rescue you he might even
do you a mischief and blame it on Conte Carlo. So I decided to
pretend that one of those three men was Orfeo. I knew that, once you
were safe, you would set things right. And if the worst happened,
and you were dead, I could always tell Commissario Grimani the
truth."

"Why
did you choose me?" asked Fletcher shyly.

Lucia
smiled. "Just something I saw in your face." She turned
to Julian. "Good night, Signor Orfeo. You don't mind if I
still call you that, do you?"

"No,
Barbarina. But where will you stay tonight?"

"I'll
go back to Signora Ruga's," she said. "She's been very
kind to me. I'm sure she'll let me stay the night, even if I'm not a
prisoner anymore."

"May
I walk you there?" asked Fletcher. He reddened a little and
added hastily to Julian, "Unless you'd rather?"

"I
should like to very much," said Julian. "But I haven't
earned the right, as you have."

"I'll
go with you, Signor Fletcher," said Lucia.

"I'll
come, too," offered St. Carr.

Julian
regarded him critically. "You seem rather tired. You might
prefer to catch a few hours' sleep. Looking peaked isn't at all the
thing, you know."

"Isn't
it?" said St. Carr. "I am rather fagged out. Do you
think you could manage without me, Hugo?"

"I
expect so," said Fletcher, grinning. He shot Julian a grateful
look. "Good night, Beverley, Mr. Kestrel."

"Will
I see you again before you go?" Lucia asked Julian.

"I
shall insist on it," he promised.

"Good
night, then," she said, "and God bless you."

"God
bless you, Lucia," said Orfeo.

Fletcher
and Lucia went out. St. Carr said his good nights and followed. At
long last, Julian turned to the marchesa. She stood like a statue in
her corner, her face immobile, giving nothing away.

MacGregor
looked from one of them to the other. "Er I'll go up and wait
for you, shall I?"

"Thank
you, my dear fellow," said Julian.

MacGregor
shuffled out.

Julian
and Beatrice were left alone. She came out of her corner and stood
before him. They looked at each other in silence. Then she lifted a
hand and struck him across the face. "Get out of my house."

He
had known this was coming. For the past twenty-four hours, he had
steeled his heart to accept it. Why, then, was it so hard to bear?

"I'm
sorry," he said. "I had no idea until last night how you
felt about Orfeo. I thought that, once the murder was solved, I
could tell you the truth, and you would understand my deception and
forgive it."

"I
understand it." Her voice broke. Tears sprang to her eyes.
"But why, why, having deceived me, did you have to tell me the
truth? We could have been happy, if only I had never known!"

"I
couldn't leave Fletcher at Grimani's mercy."

"How
noble you are!" she flung at him. "How honourable in
everything but love!"

"Would
you have wanted me to go on deceiving you to let you give yourself to
a man you hated?"

"Yes!
Because we would have had some joy together, even if it was founded
on a lie, and now we have nothing!" She caught her breath on a
sob. "You may stay here the rest of the night. But you won't
see me again. Now go."

He
went. At the door, he turned to look at her one last time. She was
moving silently about the room, blowing out the candles. He went
out.

Gaston
de la Marque was waiting, as Julian had known he would be. "Where
can we go?" de la Marque asked softly.

Julian
thought briefly. "The lake."