The Mosaic

Chapter 2

If you were.

"Don't know. It's why I rushed. I don't just come when someone calls." Giacinto's lips twisted. "Got me curious. Besides," he wandered off, gaze trailing over the mosaic on the ceiling, "He had been paranoid for weeks. Figured it was important."

Alessandro nodded slowly. He was far from solving this puzzle, but now he had been given pieces to put together. "Why paranoid? Did he have enemies?"

The trick with puzzles: working inwards from the edges. Systematic, infallible.

"Don't ask me, I don't know the guy." Giacinto shrugged. "I only know he was good, real good. Carlo paid him a lot for that mosaic. A rival, perhaps."

"If you didn't know each other, why would he write you a letter like that?"

"I assume it wasn't a rival." Giacinto ignored the question. "He seemed to suspect something was off. Started acting weird a few weeks before I left. Jumpy, on edge. Maybe someone tipped him off, told him someone was out to get him."

"The gates creaked when the servants let me in," Alessandro said. "The hinges haven't been oiled, the moisture from the canals makes them rust quickly. He would have heard an intruder. He could have run." Something wasn't right here. Alessandro could feel the ghost of something wrong still haunting the hall, hovering above their heads like a gloomy storm cloud.

"Why would he not flee from a stranger... Unless it was not an intruder, but a welcome guest, a friendly acquaintance perhaps ..." Alessandro let his eyes wander through the room to slowly nail the calm man onto the spot. He didn't raise his eyebrows. But the hard gold of his eyes was more than any doubting gaze — if Giacinto had been here the night before, Alessandro would find out.

"No need to repeat I'm a suspect, I got the message." Giacinto rolled his eyes with a groan. His lips twitched downwards in an annoyed frown, eyebrows rising in a questioning manner. "Now, would you mind doing your job instead of repeating yourself?"

"Watch it, Signore Marinos." Alessandro's lips twitched as well — upwards, more amused than offended. "Why offer your help? Trying to distract me from questioning you?"

"If I wanted to distract you, I'd find a more pleasant way than having to talk to you, Officer Steno." The man paused. His frown deepened when his eyes trailed over the corpse next to them.

There was something very strange about him, but Alessandro just couldn't put a finger on it. It was unsettling, the feeling of something watching from afar with unknown intentions. The nervous dread felt when hurrying through a dark alleyway, where the shadows seemed to move with whoever was out late, they'd keep turning their head, sure they heard something and didn't know where imagination ended and reality began.

Giacinto was relaxed when he shouldn't be. Clad in simple black when his status demanded more: purple silk, shimmering feathers, red satin, gold and fur — not plain leather and linen. Like a black cat, unbothered by the dogs slobbering and yapping.

Alessandro was hauled back from his thoughts by a rustle.

Giacinto had crouched down to the disfigured corpse that had once been a smiling father and laughing friend.

Just like —

No. Not now. There was time for that in the dead of night.

Giacinto reached out — stopping inches from the face, fingers hovering in the air, curling back slightly in inhibition.