were certainly women composers in all the ospedali . Much of the library of the Pietà still exists, but no one has ever completely cataloged it. Some of that library might be at the Conservatory of Music. I have a friend, Giovanna, who teaches there who might be able to help.” Roberta looked at me impatiently. “But if your friend Nicky is a bassoon scholar like the rest of them, I’m sure she knows far more than I.”
Francesca seemed thoughtful. “I heard several people last night at the bridge asking where Nicky was.”
“She had to fly to Birmingham to perform in a concert,” I said quickly. “She returned this morning, but she’s not staying with Signore Sandretti any longer. She said—she doesn’t trust him.”
Roberta nodded.
“She’s really wild to get this CD-ROM project off the ground. Everything that’s happened—the theft of the bassoon, Gunther’s murder—has been an impediment.” Now I was talking like the single-minded Nicky herself. “I don’t mean that Gunther’s death was an obstacle. It was terribly sad—and mysterious.”
Francesca was pulling at Roberta’s arm. “Arrange something with Giovanna,” she said.
“All right. We’ll meet tomorrow, you, me and Nicky—if she can—at the Conservatory of Music, during my lunch break, at one o’clock. We’ll see what we can find in the library.”
“ Ciao ,” said Francesca, giving me a little wave as Roberta pulled her off.
Before you could nobly renounce something or someone you had to have it to begin with.
I took the vaporetto back over to the Dorsoduro. The evening air was soft and all around me I heard Italian. It was the hour when the day-trippers had left and other tourists were perhaps resting at their hotels before venturing out again to restaurants. After my encounter with Roberta and Francesca, I had a reason to hunt up Nicky. I’d drag her out to dinner and tell her about the research date tomorrow at the conservatory. But when I alighted at Accademia, I encountered Anna de Hoog almost immediately. She was standing in front of a rack of postcards in the little square in front of the museum and looking more secretive than ever, but also a bit wild-eyed.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Frigga has arrived at the palazzo .”
“Gunther’s girlfriend!”
“No,” Anna said. “Frigga is his grandmother, as it turns out. Frau Frigga Hausen.”
She tried to seem surprised by that, but I didn’t buy it. I was also curious why she seemed to be hovering, coatless and purseless, by the vaporetto stop. There was about her something of precipitous flight. Or was she waiting for someone?
“Why don’t you stop off at the palazzo ?” suggested Anna.
“I have no desire to meet Frigga.”
“I wasn’t thinking of her so much as Bitten.”
“What about Bitten?” I was a little startled. Anna could not possibly know that Bitten claimed to be Olivia’s granddaughter.
“Bitten and Frigga have been quarreling. Bitten says she and Gunther planned to get married in Stockholm this week. Frigga says that’s nonsense: the two of them only met five or six days ago. Bitten is in a—how shall I say it?—vulnerable state of mind. She might need a drink. If you suggested it. Ah, here’s the vaporetto. ”
I didn’t think Anna had rushed out of the palazzo with the intention of taking a vaporetto anywhere. But as she blended in with the crowd surging onto the boat, I realized Anna had given me the impetus I needed to do a little sleuthing on Nicky’s behalf. I was less interested in who had killed Gunther than in stopping Bitten from destroying Nicky’s life. It had not yet occurred to me to wonder if the two things were in any way related.
But it had occurred to me that if Bitten did manage to establish a claim on Olivia’s property and wrest the London house away from Nicky, that I too would have no place to live. Like Bashō after his home burned down, I’d be out on my ear.
Ten
F RIGGA WAS NOT what I
Francesca seemed thoughtful. “I heard several people last night at the bridge asking where Nicky was.”
“She had to fly to Birmingham to perform in a concert,” I said quickly. “She returned this morning, but she’s not staying with Signore Sandretti any longer. She said—she doesn’t trust him.”
Roberta nodded.
“She’s really wild to get this CD-ROM project off the ground. Everything that’s happened—the theft of the bassoon, Gunther’s murder—has been an impediment.” Now I was talking like the single-minded Nicky herself. “I don’t mean that Gunther’s death was an obstacle. It was terribly sad—and mysterious.”
Francesca was pulling at Roberta’s arm. “Arrange something with Giovanna,” she said.
“All right. We’ll meet tomorrow, you, me and Nicky—if she can—at the Conservatory of Music, during my lunch break, at one o’clock. We’ll see what we can find in the library.”
“ Ciao ,” said Francesca, giving me a little wave as Roberta pulled her off.
Before you could nobly renounce something or someone you had to have it to begin with.
I took the vaporetto back over to the Dorsoduro. The evening air was soft and all around me I heard Italian. It was the hour when the day-trippers had left and other tourists were perhaps resting at their hotels before venturing out again to restaurants. After my encounter with Roberta and Francesca, I had a reason to hunt up Nicky. I’d drag her out to dinner and tell her about the research date tomorrow at the conservatory. But when I alighted at Accademia, I encountered Anna de Hoog almost immediately. She was standing in front of a rack of postcards in the little square in front of the museum and looking more secretive than ever, but also a bit wild-eyed.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Frigga has arrived at the palazzo .”
“Gunther’s girlfriend!”
“No,” Anna said. “Frigga is his grandmother, as it turns out. Frau Frigga Hausen.”
She tried to seem surprised by that, but I didn’t buy it. I was also curious why she seemed to be hovering, coatless and purseless, by the vaporetto stop. There was about her something of precipitous flight. Or was she waiting for someone?
“Why don’t you stop off at the palazzo ?” suggested Anna.
“I have no desire to meet Frigga.”
“I wasn’t thinking of her so much as Bitten.”
“What about Bitten?” I was a little startled. Anna could not possibly know that Bitten claimed to be Olivia’s granddaughter.
“Bitten and Frigga have been quarreling. Bitten says she and Gunther planned to get married in Stockholm this week. Frigga says that’s nonsense: the two of them only met five or six days ago. Bitten is in a—how shall I say it?—vulnerable state of mind. She might need a drink. If you suggested it. Ah, here’s the vaporetto. ”
I didn’t think Anna had rushed out of the palazzo with the intention of taking a vaporetto anywhere. But as she blended in with the crowd surging onto the boat, I realized Anna had given me the impetus I needed to do a little sleuthing on Nicky’s behalf. I was less interested in who had killed Gunther than in stopping Bitten from destroying Nicky’s life. It had not yet occurred to me to wonder if the two things were in any way related.
But it had occurred to me that if Bitten did manage to establish a claim on Olivia’s property and wrest the London house away from Nicky, that I too would have no place to live. Like Bashō after his home burned down, I’d be out on my ear.
Ten
F RIGGA WAS NOT what I
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