The Last Gondola by Edward Sklepowich Page B

than the outside. It was as if it were warning the occupants not to venture into the world beyond the door instead of chasing away whatever evil spirits might want to enter.
    Armando noted Urbino’s interest in the symbol and seemed to give him every opportunity to examine it as he slowly opened the door to release him into the late afternoon shadows.

22
    When Urbino got back to the Palazzo Uccello after his encounter with Possle, he was fatigued. Although he had promised to let the Contessa know about everything that had happened during his first visit to the Ca’ Pozza, he telephoned her and said that he preferred to wait until tomorrow when he would see her in person. He wanted to think about it all first. Since this was the eve of her first conversazione , she didn’t press the matter.
    Urbino picked at the sandwiches that Natalia had left for him and then went to the library. There he sat thinking for a long time, going over what had happened that afternoon behind the walls of the Ca’ Pozza. He spent almost as much time berating himself for what he had failed to communicate to Possle out of caution and reticence as he spent going over what Possle had said—or had seemed to say. He found himself becoming more and more weary and lay down on the sofa to close his eyes for a few minutes. He soon, however, fell asleep, with Serena next to him.
    He awakened past midnight.
    When he got into bed, he had some trouble falling sleep, but fortunately, when he did, he had no dreams. Yet all the while as he slept he seemed to be lying in wait for the one which had become his dark companion.

23
    â€œIf you didn’t ask him that,” the Contessa said to Urbino the next morning as he guided her along the slick pavement behind the Piazza San Marco, “then what did you ask him?”
    The two friends were making their way from Florian’s to the music conservatory, where the Contessa was scheduled to give her first conversazione .
    The unasked question she was referring to was the one that had been troubling Urbino ever since Armando had delivered Possle’s note.
    If the Contessa hadn’t been the one to secure him the invitation, then who had it been?
    â€œMaybe no one was responsible,” Urbino said, “no one but Possle himself. He knows about me, and he knows that I’ve been trying to contact him, apparently from Armando. As it turns out,” Urbino added in a rueful voice, “I didn’t end up asking him very much at all.”
    â€œQuite unusual for you!”
    â€œThere are times when it’s better to keep quiet and listen—and observe.”
    â€œBut why do I get the impression that you’re not satisfied with having kept quiet?”
    â€œIt shows, does it? I asked a question here and there, and I’d like to think that I didn’t press more on him because it would have been premature, or presumptuous, or both. Considering it was my first visit,” he added more forcefully.
    â€œAnd you didn’t want to make it your last as well.”
    He nodded.
    â€œBut that’s not the whole story,” she said.
    â€œNo,” Urbino admitted with reluctance. “He seemed to be the one asking the questions, when he wasn’t revealing what he already knew about me, that is.”
    â€œYou’re a well-known local figure, caro , even notorious in your way, not unlike your strange host: The americano who lives in an historic palazzo, glides around in his own gondola, and tracks down murderers when he isn’t feeding off the dead like a vampire!”
    â€œThank you for the flattering picture! But that leaves us almost as confused as we were before. Did Possle contact me in my capacity as sleuth or as vampire, as you call me?”
    â€œPerhaps both.”
    â€œOr neither.” Urbino shook his head. “He gave no clear sign of anything along those lines. I felt as if I were there for his private