“No. I went to Belmont as soon as I heard, right after I sent word to you to meet. There were mason’s tools by the body, a bucket with mortar and tools hardened in it. The Montressor had built a wall shortly before he died. He must have been planning what he would do even before he brought us into his plan. I believe he walled the fool up in that deep chamber where we carried him. Left him there to die.”

“And in building the wall, Brabantio collapsed. He was very old, feeble of body, if not of mind.”

“He was eaten,” said Iago, and he smiled at the horror that crossed the merchant’s face.

“Rats?” said Antonio. “If he’d been dead that long, I’m not surprised—”

“Yes rats, after, but something ripped his head from his body, ate his hands, his liver, and his heart.”

“So not rats?”

“His arm bones were splintered. I’ve seen a man’s hand twisted off by a runaway anchor chain. The bones looked like that.” Iago reached into his belt and held forth a long, wickedly curved black tooth, half the length of his thumb. “No, Antonio, it was not rats. This was in what was left of his buttocks.”

“His arse was eaten?”

“A bite.”

“And Portia saw this?”

“The servants had warned her off. They feared what might be in the dark. I was the first to look at him. I wrapped him together in his robe before anyone came. I told them he had fallen and was eaten by rats. I secreted the mason’s tools in a deeper chamber. No one will question it.”

“Then you think the fool is still walled up in the cellar?”

“The wall was intact. You sent away that great simpleton who attended the fool, did you not?”

“I sent a forged note from the fool sending for him the next day. My protégé Bassanio arranged to put the giant and the fool’s monkey on a ship to Marseilles and paid their passage. You think the natural* could have done this?”

Iago stroked his beard. “No, he is strong enough, but what was done to the senator requires a savagery beyond that of a simpleton enraged, even if he’d had a weapon of tooth and bone. It was an animal.”

“The monkey, then?”

“Yes, Antonio. The senator’s head was torn from his body and his liver eaten by a tiny fucking monkey in fool’s motley.”

“Jeff,” said Antonio.

“What?”

“The monkey is called Jeff.”

“Forget the monkey! What is this fascination you have with the monkey? Why didn’t you just keep the monkey?”

“I needed to make the fool’s departure appear genuine, didn’t I?” said Antonio. “No one would go away without his monkey. Besides, I am a respected merchant of Venice. I cannot have a monkey, it would seem frivolous.”