“But he could have arranged a meeting with Gallo,” Grenville said. “To warn him away from Signora Ruggeri, perhaps. Or to order him to leave the city entirely.”
“He has underlings who would do that for him,” Donata argued. “Such as his guards at the chateau, who saw Gallo summarily away, as we observed.”
I withdrew the letter and paper Brewster had found in Gallo’s rooms and presented them. “The comte might have had good reason to meet Gallo himself. We’ve discovered that Gallo was a blackmailer.”
Both Donata and Grenville were gratifyingly startled. I handed the letter to Grenville and the one with the name to Donata, and explained all that had happened since I’d left the villa this afternoon.
“If Gallo was a blackmailer, that rather widens the field,” Grenville said, echoing Brewster’s conclusions. “An unfortunate number of people have secrets they might kill for.”
“Does the comte?” I asked.
Donata handed the paper back to me. “I have no idea. He and the comtesse were never close—an arranged marriage of convenience—but she has never once hinted at a transgression so terrible he’d murder to keep it quiet. Although …” She cocked her head, a curl brushing her cheek. “Signora Ruggeri was trying to put it about that the comte’s sons were not actually his heirs. Suppose it is true?”
My natural instinct to defend a lady sprang forth. “That would be the comtesse’s secret, surely. Besides, she does not seem the sort to be so duplicitous.”
“You say that because you like her.” Donata sent me an indulgent smile. “But I was not suggesting that the comtesse put a cuckoo or two in her husband’s nest. I meant that perhaps he did bear a child out of wedlock and has been pretending that one of his sons—or both of them—are the offspring of himself and the comtesse. To make certain the title and money stay in the family.”
“It is possible, I suppose,” Grenville said. “Though I hate to disparage a gentleman and a lady when they are not present to defend themselves.”
Donata shrugged slim shoulders. “All aristocrats have nasty secrets in their pasts, and we should not pretend otherwise. My great-great-something grandfather did horrible things during the time of the Tudors, murdering monks and stealing their lands during the first push of anti-papacy. His son wasn’t kind to those trying to restore the church under Mary either. I wager yours has done similar things, Grenville. Gabriel’s forebears, on the other hand, likely defended all those in distress in their end of Norfolk.”
“You speculate that only because you never met my father,” I said wryly.
“Well, he did try to steal his estate, after all, so I suppose your family can join the ranks of those with desperate secrets,” Donata finished, a teasing light in her eyes.
“Very well,” Grenville said. “Every aristocrat in Lyon has committed shameful deeds they want hushed up, and one of them decided to murder Gallo to keep him quiet.” He waved the letter I’d given him. “I will translate this and determine whether whoever wrote it wished Gallo gone.”
“If Signora Ruggeri didn’t murder Gallo herself,” I said. “Perhaps hiring someone to kill him for her. Claude was certain that Signora Ruggeri aided Gallo—whether in discovering the secrets or helping him collect money from his victims, I’m not certain. We did find a cache of gewgaws in Gallo’s rooms that Brewster reasoned he stole, but they might have been payment for his silence. I brought them home in case you can find their owners,” I told Donata.
Her brows rose. “I see. You have much confidence in my success.”
“I have every confidence in it,” I said warmly.
“Well, I will have to have a look at the things. But, returning to Signora Ruggeri, if she benefitted from the blackmail, why would she murder Gallo?”
“Perhaps she’d had enough,” I said. “If Signora Ruggeri believed she was persuading the comte to give her all she wanted, she might have wished to disentangle herself from Gallo permanently.”
“It is possible,” Donata said. “However, I have ascertained that she did not leave the comtesse’s chateau all night. The comtesse’s lady’s maid, Perrault, who is rather a dragon, had charge of her. Perrault went so far as to station herself outside Signora Ruggeri’s door, for her protection, she declared.”
“Brewster informed me that there are plenty of tunnels in the cellars where anyone can go to and fro without notice,” I said.
Donata shook her head. “The comtesse would hardly put her in a room with a secret passage to the outside. It’s the comtesse’s family home, so she’d know where they all are.”
I had to concede the point.
“Look here,” Grenville said. “I hate to mention it, because the comtesse is such a grand lady, but she herself might have slipped from the house to meet Gallo. Argued with him on the bridge about whatever hold he thought he had over her or their family. The confrontation turned violent and the comtesse, shocked at what she’d done, dropped the knife and fled.”
“Highly doubtful,” Donata said at once, then she sighed. “But I suppose, by my own logic, we have to consider the possibility.”
“She’d have had blood on her clothes if she stabbed him,” I said, trying to remain practical. “On her gloves at the very least.”
“Which the faithful Perrault would dispose of for her,” Donata said unhappily. “All of her servants would lie themselves blue for her.”
“Even if the comtesse proves to be the culprit, I doubt she’d face the same consequences as someone like Claude Devere,” I said. “I hope I have cleared his name, at least.”
“Poor Claude has been a foolish young man,” Donata agreed. “But, yes, we must worry about whatever hold Gallo had over the Devere family. Unfortunately, it means any of them might have silenced him.”
“I know,” I said glumly. “I am cheered that we found nothing damning in Gallo’s rooms, but Brewster speculates that Gallo had a better hiding place. Which we will have to hunt for in all of Lyon and possibly the small towns outside it.”
