Isle of the Dead by Alex Connor Read Free Book Online Page B

she had over-used.
    The following week I watched the loathsome Aretino passing by St Mark’s. This time he was walking with Angelico Vespucci.
    Everyone suspects Vespucci of the murder of his wife. Everyone talks of it. But Vespucci is a wealthy man with clever friends. He slides into his pew on a Sunday at the Basilica di Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari, and clasps his hands together, looking upwards to the painting of the Assumption of the Virgin, his bulbous eyes catching the glance of no other.
    Every week Vespucci slides himself and his wavering reputation to the studio of Titian. I have seen him enter, and wondered what the artist thinks of this sitter. Wondered if, as he draws in the line of brow or slant of cheek, he suspects that he is painting the likeness of a killer.

9
    New York
    Knowing that most of the important dealers would attend the auction in New York, it wasn’t a complete surprise when Farina spotted Jobo Kido in the lounge at the Four Seasons. Assuming her famous smile, she moved over to him, Jobo leaping to his feet and nodding as she approached.
    â€˜Jobo! Lovely to see you.’
    â€˜And you, Farina. I expect I will see many familiar faces at the auction,’ he replied, ushering her to a seat next to his. ‘Would you like some tea? Or a drink perhaps?’
    She shook her head, eager to dispense with the pleasantries and get down to business. Important as the upcoming sale was, there was little of interest to Jobo Kido. So perhaps his trip to the USA had been for another reason? Perhaps he hoped that being among his peers he might hear the latest gossip? From the instant Farina had heard of the Titian she had suspected Jobo knew of it. It was too macabre, too peculiar to his taste, to pass unnoticed by the dealer. Jobohad many connections in London – surely one of them would have told him about the notorious find?
    â€˜I was expecting to see you in New York,’ she said blithely. ‘Although it’s not a great sale. Not the kind of pieces you usually go for.’
    â€˜Maybe it’s time to expand my interests.’
    â€˜Or catch up?’
    His eyes were steady. ‘On what, Farina?’
    â€˜Any rumours, gossip.’
    â€˜About what?’
    She waved her hand around in the air. ‘Anything. Nothing. Who knows?’
    You do, Jobo thought to himself. You’ve heard about the Titian, and you’re trying to pump me for information. His gaze rested for an instant on the table in front of them, then he looked back to her.
    â€˜I think you’re having a little game with me, Farina.’
    â€˜Never,’ she replied, smiling enigmatically.
    â€˜So you’ve heard nothing of interest lately?’
    â€˜About what?’
    â€˜A painting?’
    â€˜I didn’t think it would be about a second-hand Ford, Jobo,’ she replied smartly. ‘Why don’t you ask me straight out?’
    â€˜Ask you what?’
    â€˜What you want to know!’ she snapped impatiently.
    He was too wily to be caught out. ‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about.’
    â€˜Fine,’ she replied, rising to her feet. ‘Good to see you again, Jobo. No doubt we’ll bump into each other at the auction.’
    No doubt we will, Jobo Kido thought, watching as she moved across the hotel lobby. His instincts told him what she wouldn’t – Farina Ahmadi knew about the Titian. Which meant that she would want it for her husband, using her money as a grappling hook to haul Angelico Vespucci to a new home in Turkey.
    The hell she was, Jobo thought. If anyone was going to get the Titian, he was.
    Leaning back in his seat, the dealer scanned the foyer, nodding to several people he knew and ordering some tea. From such a vantage point he could see who was arriving and should – by the end of the afternoon – know who was in New York for the sale. Of course there were easier, more discreet ways to find