The girl smiled uneasily. “Well, um, you go to Giaccomo’s quite a lot.”
Here came trouble. Maria tensed. Nodded but didn’t say anything. Messing with Giaccomo’s cargos meant trouble. And you didn’t cross Giaccomo.
The girl continued. “I’m looking for a party that goes there sometimes. Only . . . I don’t want to go there myself. Could you give him a message from me?”
Maria relaxed, slightly. “Depends. Who?”
“Well, his name is Benito. He’s a kid—about fifteen, maybe sixteen. Dark curly hair. Round face. He’s a runner with Ventuccio.”
Suspicion leapt into Maria’s mind. Was this woman somehow tied to whoever had tried to kill Marco? With the mess their mother had been involved in? Could be. Could be! It would explain the oddities.
“Might know him. Why?”
Even in the fog, Maria could see that the other girl was blushing. “Just . . . wanted to see him. That’s all,” she said airily “He’s . . . he’s a friend of mine. I’ll be around Campo San Felice between seven and half-past most nights.”
Somehow Maria restrained the bubble of laughter. That Benito! She’d have to warn him to stay clear of this girl. “Yeah. I’ll tell him. Who do I say? Benito’s got so many girls chasing him he’ll need a clue.”
The girl shook her head. “He’s a kid! I mean . . . um . . . just tell him Kat wants to see him. It’s not about business or anything,” she said hastily. “Just . . . want to ask him something.”
“Uh huh. Kat who?” Benito wasn’t that much of a kid.
The girl looked faintly alarmed and taken aback. “Just Kat. Er. Kat Felluci.”
* * *
Kat was surprised to see the canaler’s eyes narrow like that. Then she remembered. It had been all over the canals. What a stupid name to choose for herself . . . it had just come from silly daydreams and just not being able to come up with a different name on the spur of the moment. She flicked her oar and sent the gondola off into the fog to hide her burning face.
* * *
Caesare hadn’t been in when Maria had rowed her reluctant way to the water-door. She still hadn’t made up her mind what to do about Caesare, but she’d been bracing herself to meet him. So—of course—he wasn’t there. Both Marco and Benito were, however.
It set her off-balance not having Caesare there. All day she’d been making up her mind just what to say to him. And then changing it. She hadn’t even had time to wonder too much about the girl’s choice of surname. It obviously wasn’t hers. . . . It could be coincidence. It wasn’t that rare a name. Or she might know Marco.
“Met one of your girlfriends today, Benito.”
Benito looked suitably embarrassed. “Aw. She’s not really that. She’s just . . .”
“Someone to practice kissing on?” she teased. “I didn’t know about this one. She’s a big girl, too.”
Benito looked startled. “Huh? Who?”
Maria gave a wry smile. “Kat. Or that is what she calls herself.”
“Kat?” Benito looked puzzled.
“Wears a hood,” said Maria, taking a glass of wine from Marco. He was considerate like that. “And works nights, mostly. Girl from a good family by the way she dresses.”
Light dawned on Benito. “Oh, that Kat! She’s no girlfriend of mine!” he added hastily.
Marco looked amused. “I didn’t know you were into the petticoat-line yet, Benito.”
Benito looked a little shamefaced about growing up, thought Maria. “Um. Well, Kat’s no girlfriend of mine. I’ve just done some work for her.”
Maria shook her head. “Word is out on the water that she ain’t someone you should mix with, Benito. Trouble. Anyway, she said you could find her at Campo San Felice between seven and half-past most evenings.”
“I know she’s to be steered clear of now, but, well, I didn’t know then,” admitted Benito with shrug. “Valentina and Claudia both warned me off.”
Marco’s amusement had entirely drained away. “If they did that I hope you listened to them, and have stayed away from her?”
Benito looked uncomfortable. “I figured out she was the kind of girl you don’t mess around with, but well, you know when I had that spot of bother with Jewel?”