Lethal Score by Mark Mannock

Author:Mark Mannock [Mannock, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shotfire Books
Published: 2020-07-09T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Walking out of the modern Venezia Santa Lucia railway station and gazing down the concrete steps to the Grand Canal was like staring at a vibrant painting on a wall, and then stepping right into it. New gave way to old as I strolled onto the ferry wharf, the wake from passing boats splashing gently on the pilings underneath. On the far side of the waterway spotlights reflected off the distinctive and colorful Venetian architecture that lined the canal, just as it had for centuries. Even late at night the waterway was active. Cashed-up couples climbed in and out of gondolas or bought tickets for a vaporetto. Eager local vendors sought to make a sale to tourists before they’d even set foot in the old city. If any European city over-delivered on its reputation, it was Venice.

My immediate aim was to find somewhere to stay, somewhere close to the Grand Canal for ease of transport yet hidden down an alley or two. I also wanted to be walking distance from the Teatro La Fenice, where we’d perform. In any military operation access and intelligence were everything. The whole purpose of my clandestine arrival in Venice was to gain intelligence; to do that I would need good access to a variety of locations.

It didn’t take long to arrange some suitable accommodation through a tourist information kiosk on the wharf. I’d gone dark again, wary of advertising my presence in the city by using my cell phone.

Thirty minutes later, I stepped off a vaporetto at the Mercato stop, just near the Rialto Bridge. A few minutes and a couple of alleyways later I was outside the Vecchio Hotel Canal, a small hotel in a perfect location. It had frontage onto the Grand Canal but an entranceway off Calle dello Sturion. It also had twenty-four-hour reception, a requirement at this time of night.

I traipsed up an interminable flight of stairs and registered at the front desk. The downside to my plan was that I had to show my passport to register; there was no way around it. I was directed to my room at the end of a long, narrow corridor. As I walked its length my footsteps seemed abnormally loud, the mosaic floor and high ceiling providing a perfect echo chamber. At least I would know if I was about to receive any uninvited visitors. The room itself was all very classic and very Venice. A vivid, deep red-patterned wallpaper lined every wall and the wooden bed; two chairs and a desk were stylishly ornate.

I had a quick shower and put my head down. I was asleep within minutes.

I awoke at 7 a.m. I’d slept well, but Elena had taunted my dreams, as had a vivid image of Ascardi, standing over a smoking ruin. It should have been enough to unnerve me, but it just made me more determined.

After a few relaxing moments enjoying a light breakfast accompanied by piped classical music in the hotel dining room overlooking the Grand Canal, I felt as ready as I was going to for whatever the hell I was about to do.

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