“His men will tell no tales. They are not the only ones who defy the law by carrying weapons. I took a wickedly sharp fish knife from your kitchen; you’ll find it gone. Let us say the surprise of my having it was the last surprise for them. They will not be found.” It was a serviceable lie. The fish knife was at the bottom of the canal with Jessica’s boots, where I had sheathed it, but it was a serviceable lie.

“You killed them?”

“I acquired some skill with a blade before I washed up on your doorstep. Did I not say that your revenge would be my revenge?”

He took my hand and patted it as he shook it. “I apologize, Lancelot, for your pain and for doubting you. You shall be in my prayers—and my heart when I confront Antonio.”

“Don’t confront him, my friend, disarm him. Antonio plans his treachery with a cohort of scoundrels, as you shall see. You will disarm them with your own breath, by appearing fearless in their midst. Antonio knows you to be shrewd and will see that you would not expose yourself or your family to danger if your bond could be broken with the swipe of a blade. Hint that you considered his intent and dismissed it, knowing that he, too, would be too shrewd to think you’d leave your hold on him so flimsy.”

“I shall.”

“Good. Now, when Antonio secured the loan, he told you of each of his ships, the cargos, destinations, and the schedule for their return, did he not?”

“I knew them before he even asked. It is my business to know the business of the traders on the Rialto. I pay good moneys to stevedores and sailors at the docks for such knowledge.”

“Then pray write them down for me, all those things you know of his ships and their schedules.”

“I shall. What will you do with this knowledge, good Lancelot?”

“Trust,” said I, trust being the shortest thread to the utter bollocks I might have spun. “I will use it well. But now, good Shylock, I am wounded and weary and I need to rest.”

And at midnight, on to Belmont.

“Do they have dogs?” asked the boatman.

We glided across the dark lagoon, gentle waves lapping on the bow like drinking dogs. Dogs? I didn’t remember any dogs. But then, I had been very drunk when I’d arrived at Belmont on the night of my murder.

Dogs?

Wherefore dogs?

What ho, dogs?

Bloody buggering barking biting drooling bloody dogs?

“When we land, you go onshore to assure the way is clear, then, if no dogs, I shall debark.”

“No,” said the useless and shifty gondolier, stubborn and unmoving at his oar.