beginning to sparkle.
‘No, they are. The Strozzi family have been acting as dealers for years, but their glasses are not very good. The market is there. We just have to step in and capture it.’
Julius was staring at him. He said, ‘I see what makes people want to put you quietly out of the way. Who will this make you popular with? Apart from your better-known enemies?’
Nicholas considered. ‘I don’t think the Medici will like it very much,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think they would bother to kill for it. Sir, my colleague is in ecstasies over your lenses.’
‘He is?’ said the Florentine. He looked pleased. He added, ‘I get little company. Perhaps you would both stay and share a flask of wine?’
‘We must go. But,’ Nicholas said, delving into his purse, ‘you will permit us to come back, and drink our health meantime? There is so much to ask and to see. That is, if you feel you could bring yourself to stay? I must tell you, such genius should not be wasted in Florence.’
‘You are kind. You are kind. Yes,’ said the Florentine. ‘Under such patronage as yours, an artist must flourish. Monna Alessandra said so herself.’
‘I’ll wager she did,’ Julius said, as they bowed themselves out of the door. ‘What percentage is she to get? How much did you leave him just now?’
‘Mind your own business,’ said Nicholas. ‘It’s very noisy. Why is it so noisy? Oh, great God, they’ve let out the dogs.’
He walked with Julius to the landing-stage to see him board the Bank’s boat and leave with everyone else to return to the city. On the way, recollections of the early part of the evening returned, naturally enough, to chafe Julius, but to a milder degree.
Nicholas was able to explain that the bodyguard, from unsolicited good feeling, would support their story that the dead man had been a would-be assassin. Gregorio knew he was not, but affirmed that accusing the Vatachino would do more harm than good. Julius, applied to, agreed that something should be done about the Vatachino company; brokers, dyers, sugar refiners and malign opponents.
‘They’re devils in Bruges,’ Julius said. ‘A man called Martin, making deals where he shouldn’t. It’s damaging everyone’s business – Simon’s as well as ours.’
‘A man called Martin?’ Nicholas repeated.
‘Yes. Was that the man who poached your dyeworks in Cyprus?’
‘No. That was a man called David,’ Nicholas said. ‘Two men in the field, therefore. Who else?’
‘That’s all I know of,’ said Julius. ‘And the man or men who operate them. But I’ve no idea who they are.’
‘Then perhaps we ought to find out,’ said Nicholas.
Within sight of the boat, Tilde jumped out and ran towards them. She looked frightened. Nicholas said, ‘Tell her about the spectacles. That’ll cheer her up. Gregorio knows.’
‘I’m surprised,’ Julius said. ‘I thought you did everything on your own nowadays.’ He smiled at Tilde, who had abruptly arrived, and, flicking her cheek, turned her to walk with them back to the boat. She held his arm. She had heard the story of the glassworks assassin. She was close to alarmed tears.
Gregorio, watching all three approach, didn’t rise, Nicholas noticed, and appeared dry-eyed to a degree. Here and there in the lawyer’s schooled face were traces of a number of unhelpful entrenchments that needed to be thought about. Loppe, seated beside him, said nothing, which sometimes made Nicholas angry.
Nicholas said, ‘And what a day of good cheer it has been. Have you had a merry time, friends? So did we. Blood, carnage and sack, and now, although less exciting, the Magistracy of Murano in its pomp. But be not disturbed. He that is greatest in office is but a statue of glass.’
‘When are you coming?’ said Gregorio. He spoke in Italian.
Nicholas switched to Tuscan and made it quite loud. ‘Who can tell? Go to bed. We have a fricassé to bury.’
‘You’re frightening Tilde,’ said
‘No, they are. The Strozzi family have been acting as dealers for years, but their glasses are not very good. The market is there. We just have to step in and capture it.’
Julius was staring at him. He said, ‘I see what makes people want to put you quietly out of the way. Who will this make you popular with? Apart from your better-known enemies?’
Nicholas considered. ‘I don’t think the Medici will like it very much,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think they would bother to kill for it. Sir, my colleague is in ecstasies over your lenses.’
‘He is?’ said the Florentine. He looked pleased. He added, ‘I get little company. Perhaps you would both stay and share a flask of wine?’
‘We must go. But,’ Nicholas said, delving into his purse, ‘you will permit us to come back, and drink our health meantime? There is so much to ask and to see. That is, if you feel you could bring yourself to stay? I must tell you, such genius should not be wasted in Florence.’
‘You are kind. You are kind. Yes,’ said the Florentine. ‘Under such patronage as yours, an artist must flourish. Monna Alessandra said so herself.’
‘I’ll wager she did,’ Julius said, as they bowed themselves out of the door. ‘What percentage is she to get? How much did you leave him just now?’
‘Mind your own business,’ said Nicholas. ‘It’s very noisy. Why is it so noisy? Oh, great God, they’ve let out the dogs.’
He walked with Julius to the landing-stage to see him board the Bank’s boat and leave with everyone else to return to the city. On the way, recollections of the early part of the evening returned, naturally enough, to chafe Julius, but to a milder degree.
Nicholas was able to explain that the bodyguard, from unsolicited good feeling, would support their story that the dead man had been a would-be assassin. Gregorio knew he was not, but affirmed that accusing the Vatachino would do more harm than good. Julius, applied to, agreed that something should be done about the Vatachino company; brokers, dyers, sugar refiners and malign opponents.
‘They’re devils in Bruges,’ Julius said. ‘A man called Martin, making deals where he shouldn’t. It’s damaging everyone’s business – Simon’s as well as ours.’
‘A man called Martin?’ Nicholas repeated.
‘Yes. Was that the man who poached your dyeworks in Cyprus?’
‘No. That was a man called David,’ Nicholas said. ‘Two men in the field, therefore. Who else?’
‘That’s all I know of,’ said Julius. ‘And the man or men who operate them. But I’ve no idea who they are.’
‘Then perhaps we ought to find out,’ said Nicholas.
Within sight of the boat, Tilde jumped out and ran towards them. She looked frightened. Nicholas said, ‘Tell her about the spectacles. That’ll cheer her up. Gregorio knows.’
‘I’m surprised,’ Julius said. ‘I thought you did everything on your own nowadays.’ He smiled at Tilde, who had abruptly arrived, and, flicking her cheek, turned her to walk with them back to the boat. She held his arm. She had heard the story of the glassworks assassin. She was close to alarmed tears.
Gregorio, watching all three approach, didn’t rise, Nicholas noticed, and appeared dry-eyed to a degree. Here and there in the lawyer’s schooled face were traces of a number of unhelpful entrenchments that needed to be thought about. Loppe, seated beside him, said nothing, which sometimes made Nicholas angry.
Nicholas said, ‘And what a day of good cheer it has been. Have you had a merry time, friends? So did we. Blood, carnage and sack, and now, although less exciting, the Magistracy of Murano in its pomp. But be not disturbed. He that is greatest in office is but a statue of glass.’
‘When are you coming?’ said Gregorio. He spoke in Italian.
Nicholas switched to Tuscan and made it quite loud. ‘Who can tell? Go to bed. We have a fricassé to bury.’
‘You’re frightening Tilde,’ said
Similar Books
