The Venetian Affair by Helen MacInnes

Author:Helen MacInnes [MacInnes, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, Mystery, Romance, Thriller, Adventure
ISBN: 0449236676
Google: zYk6nQEACAAJ
Amazon: 1781163308
Barnesnoble: 1781163308
Goodreads: 17457098
Publisher: Titan
Published: 1971-01-01T16:00:00+00:00

16

Neat Italian cursive over the shop’s entrance told them it was owned by V Arnaldi. It was small, dark, but authentic. On either side were two glass-topped counters, displaying filters and light meters in considerable profusion. There were shelves of Leicas and Rolleiflexes, all bargains at the cheap Venetian price; stacks of varied film; many excellent photographs showing how you could do it, too, if you got up at six in the morning or lived in a city without people. There was one assistant, very young and very martyred, who obviously disapproved of the prominent notice in four languages stating that this shop was open for business every day, all day. For this was a bright, warm Sunday, when reasonable places were either firmly closed or at least putting up their shutters for a pleasant three-hour lunch.

“I need some thirty-five-millimetre colour film,” Claire said in English. “Seven rolls of K 135-38.”

The boy stared at her blankly. Fenner sympathised with him. Claire had asked for a film with thirty-eight exposures, and there was just no such thing.

“Uno momento,” the boy said, jolted out of his apathy. (He wasn’t stupid, Fenner decided; just bored.) Quickly he went to a curtained door at the back of the shop. A chair scraped, a limping step dragged on the wooden floor; and a white-haired man appeared, wiping his mouth from an interrupted dinner. His movements were slow, deliberate, calm.

“Mr. Arnaldi?” Claire asked.

The proprietor nodded, his eyes as blank as the boy’s had been. Outside, a second man had halted beside the brown suit, to look at the window’s display.

Claire repeated her request, with a slight emphasis on the seven. Arnaldi listened placidly, but he had noted the tightening of Fenner’s lips as he watched the street. The man in the brown suit was moving on; it was the other, a thin man, much younger, who was coming into the shop.

“Certainly,” Arnaldi said as the man entered, and selected three boxes of standard K135-36 film from the shelf behind him. He placed them in a neat pyramid on the counter in front of Claire. “Anything else today, signorina?”

“No thank you. That’s perfect.” Claire relaxed visibly as she looked at the three boxes. So Arnaldi was the right man to deal with, Fenner decided, quickly changing his mind about mistakes. “I think I’ll load the camera here,” she said, holding out her hand for it, smiling reassuringly.

Fenner gave it to her, tried to pay no attention to the strange man who had walked over to the stand beside them instead of choosing the other counter. Perhaps he was lonely, wanted company, the Coney Island-Brighton Beach type. Why wasn’t he out at the Lido? That would suit him perfectly. “Need any help?” Fenner asked.

“Have you ever used a Stereo-Realist?”

“No,” he lied gallantly.

Claire began examining the camera’s back. “I ought to have brought that book of directions,” she said, half to herself.

Mr. Arnaldi was trying to serve the newcomer, but the man was in no hurry. He wanted a yellow filter; he needed time to choose one.

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