She pouted, which added five years to her face and ten to her neck. "Who pays the cook eats first. Nostradamus will send his report to me and if it is acceptable, then I shall see that a copy goes to the Ten."

Having had the same argument with clients before, I just shrugged. "If you insist." The Maestro had never had a client turn out to be guilty of a major crime, but he has explained to me that all his contracts include standard wording that they are subject to the laws of Venice just in case this ever happens. Thus he cannot be sued for breach of contract if he turns his client in, although I don't see why a headless corpse would care to argue.

"Then you must say so," donna Alina announced. "Write it in, Jacopo, both copies."

Jacopo wrote left-handed, of course; the trait sinister often runs in families. When he had amended both copies, she signed and sealed them-right-handed-and returned to her favored seat.

"What else do you need to know, sier Alfeo?" She pursed her lips tightly and narrowed her eyes.

"I understand that you were the only one to see the murderer?"

"I did not really see him. It was very dark after the brightness. The Basilica is not an especially large church, you understand, considering its importance, but it must be the most beautiful in the entire world. The whole of the inside, all the domes and the walls and arches, are decorated with gold mosaic displaying the history of the city, and Our Lord with the saints and apostles, his Holy Mother, a most incredible sight."

I have seen the inside of the Basilica several times. What she was saying was not very relevant to her husband's death, but she was talking so I let her ramble on.

"And the Christmas Mass is most special, you know, held just before midnight by an ancient special dispensation from the Pope, with the most beautiful music, and all the senior officers of the Republic come in procession, together with men from the great scuole, the friars, and priests. Truly, it was the most memorable experience of my entire life. And the church was very dim until four men, standing at the corners of a cross, lighted threads, like fine fuses, that spread the light out to hundreds of candles-one thousand five hundred candles, Gentile told me, and some dozens of very large, twelve-pound candles, and they all seemed to light by themselves, all at once, and the entire Basilica blazed up like the sun to greet the day of Our Lord's birth!"

I sighed in wonder.

She sighed in nostalgia. "And then, oh horrors! The glorious Mass came to an end, as everything must come to an end. We had just gone out into the atrium, and it was so dark out there, but I had found Gentile and taken his arm, and suddenly someone pushed me roughly, and I cried out in complaint and clung tighter to my husband, but he made a strange noise… more like surprise than pain, really. He fell, dragging me down with him. And I realized that he was bleeding… So, no, I didn't really see the murderer. Except that he did not seem very tall." End of recitation.

"Thank you, madonna."

"What else?"

"The reasons known to you why Zorzi could not prove his innocence."

The letter she had shown me previously had been invented by Domenico and his wife and meant nothing, but the forgers had avoided mentioning the explanation Zorzi had given his mother for failing to clear his name, perhaps because they had not known exactly what that was. What he had said might or might not be whatever she was going to tell me after she stopped glaring at me like a Barbary corsair.

"Jacopo, go and wait outside."

The family by-blow's face froze, but he spun on his heel and marched to the door. I expected him to slam it behind him, but he managed to close it quietly. Silence. I waited.

Finally: "Sier Alfeo, I do not deny that at times my late husband was very autocratic. He had strict standards, even by the standards of the Venetian patriarchy."

I nodded understandingly.

"Nor do I deny that my son was a sinner, but he was a man of spirit also and knew that he had two half-sisters and a half-brother born out of wedlock. He regarded Gentile's reprimands as sheer hypocrisy." She paused, as if realizing that she was avoiding the issue. "Zorzi frequented courtesans, yes. But at the time of Gentile's death, he was enamored of a woman of noble birth."

Even after so long, telling me this was a strain for her. Her hands were knotted into fists and her cheeks blotched red under the paint. I helped her along.

"You are saying, madonna, that on the night your husband died, your son was clasped to the bosom of a married lady?"

She nodded. "That was why he could not defend himself from the charge of murder."

Zorzi had an alibi? I was tempted to laugh aloud. Even a notorious libertine could have delusions of honor, apparently, but this might be the easiest two hundred ducats the Maestro had ever earned.

"If you, in strictest confidence, were to tell me the name of-"

"I do not know her name."

I must have looked disbelieving, because she continued grimly.

"I know only that she was young and married to an older man. Zorzi told exaggerated fairy tales of his debauchery with courtesans just to annoy his father, but he was very discreet about the others. Other one, I mean. That was a true love affair!"

"Did you tell the inquisitors about her?"

"No. They asked me about the murder itself, because I was there, and I told them everything I knew. They never asked me where my sons were at the time, why should they?"

"Did they not question you again after he fled?"

"No. By then they had convinced themselves of his guilt."

"You are certain that your son refused to tell the inquisitors the name of the witness who could give him an alibi? It was not that he did name her and she contradicted his story out of fear of her husband's wrath?"

"No. I begged him to tell them, but he insisted he never would."

That was the end of that path. Was she lying to me? Had Zorzi lied to her? Had the boy's mistress lied to the Three? I was no nearer knowing why some maniac was going around murdering courtesans.

"Still more questions, messer Zeno? I find this conversation wearying and unnecessary. I engaged Maestro Nostradamus to clear my son's name, not to inflict you and your eternal questioning upon myself."

"Just one more, madonna, undoubtedly a painful one for you. When did you last see Zorzi?"

She sniffed as if I had committed a social gaffe. "The day of my husband's funeral. We had no sooner returned to the house than he changed out of mourning and appeared in his usual finery. No long months of mourning for him, he said; he had paid his respects, and anything more would be hypocrisy."

"Did he hint that he was heading to the mainland?"

"No. No, he certainly did not. He told me he had found the archangel of all courtesans, Venus in the flesh, and he was going off to, um, visit with her and see if she was as good as her reputation." Donna Alina's face hardened. "It must have been she who warned him that the Ten were going to arrest him."

"I think not, madonna. I have spoken to the woman, and she claims that she was expecting him but he never arrived."

"Indeed?" She raised her painted brows, corrugating her forehead. "And what is the name of this paramount beauty?"

"That I may not reveal. I am much indebted to you for your help." I rose to take my leave. "My master gave me some questions to put to both sier Bernardo and sier Domenico; also some for a few senior servants. I may tell them that you wish them to cooperate?"

She pulled a face. "Let Jacopo back in."

I went to the door and opened it slowly in case he had his ear to the keyhole and needed to skedaddle, but he was leaning against the wall on the far side of the corridor, arms folded and eyes hot with anger. I winked and stepped aside.