1954 - Mission to Venice by James Hadley Chase Read Free Book Online Page B

friendly face, deeply tanned and his brown hair was bleached golden by the sun. Don liked the look of him. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-four or five.
    His sister, Maria, was probably a year or so older than her brother. She was tall and lovely, with a determined, firm mouth, large, black sparkling eyes, thick black hair that fell to her shoulders, and her white evening dress sparkled with glittering sequins. Don had met many lovely women in his time, but Maria Natzka had more than loveliness: she was warm, alive and exciting.
    “Are you sure you won’t come back to the hotel?” Natzka asked.
    “No, thank you. I’ll get home. Thanks for finding me.”
    “Perhaps we will see something of you?” Natzka said, offering his hand. “I don’t like to be curious, but I must say I would like to know what happened. We won’t keep you now, but please tell us some time.”
    “I’ll tell you,” Don said, shaking hands. He looked at Maria and smiled. “You will excuse me now?”
    “You must be very strong and very tough, Mr. Micklem,” she said, and he noticed she spoke English without a trace of an accent. “You have a bad bruise.”
    He grinned ruefully.
    “I’m just putting on an act. As soon as I get home, I’ll burst into tears. Good night.”
    He left them and walked quickly across the piazza towards the Palazzo della Toletta. He went immediately to his room, stripped off his soiled clothes, and put on a pair of dark blue linen trousers, a matching shirt and a black zip windbreaker. He changed his shoes for a pair of light, rubber-soled sneakers. From a drawer he took a small, flat flashlight and a leather case containing a burglar’s outfit. He put these two articles in his hip pockets. Then he took a roll of Italian currency from a despatch case and stowed it away in one of the pockets of the windbreaker.
    While he changed, he had been trying to make up his mind if the short, thickset man had had anything to do with Tregarth’s disappearance or whether he had been a hold-up man who had taken the opportunity of grabbing some easy money.
    Don remembered what Louisa Peccati “had said: You must be very careful. He is in very great danger. They are hunting for him .
    Was the short, thickset man one of the hunters? That was something Don was determined now to find out He had had a lesson. From now on, he would be constantly on his guard. They wouldn’t find him so easy to handle next time.
    39 Calle Mondello. Was that where Tregarth was hiding? Where was it? Venice was honeycombed with hundreds of dark, badly-lit Calle. Giuseppe, his gondolier, would know. It might be an idea to take Giuseppe along with him.
    Don made for the door, then paused. He turned off the lights in the room, groped his way to the window and parted the curtains. He looked down at the quay. Although it was getting on for a quarter to one, crowds of sightseers still moved leisurely along the quay towards the focal point of all tourists: the San Marco.
    Don watched them for a few moments, then a hard little smile lit up his face.
    Leaning against the balustrade, his back to the canale di San Marco, apparently taking his ease while he watched the crowds, was the man in the white hat.

     

Four: 39 Calle Mondello

    A s Don walked quickly along the quay towards the Ponte della Paglia, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man in the white hat push himself away from the balustrade against which he had been leaning and move after him.
    Don didn’t look around nor give any indication that he knew he was being followed. He kept on until he reached the gondola station.
    A small group of gondoliers stood on the narrow quay where their long black gondolas were moored, gossiping and waiting hopefully to be hired. Giuseppe saw Don coming towards him and he broke away from the group.
    “You wanted me, signore?” he asked. “We are going somewhere?”
    “Not in the gondola,” Don said. “Come with me.”
    He took Giuseppe to a square