The Venice Job

by Deborah Abela

  ‘There’s an emergency switch on the wall here somewhere.’ Luca turned on the light from his watch. ‘I saw it when we came in.’

  Linden and Toby ran their watch lights over the wall like scurrying ants, trying desperately to find the switch while Luca hurried along the metal walkway towards where Max had been standing. He came to an unlocked gate and his heart thudded in his chest. Filled with dread, Luca scurried down the ladder, two rungs at a time. ‘Max! Max!’ But there was no answer. When he reached the floor, he called up, ‘Have you found the emergency switch?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Linden called. ‘Come on,’ he whispered to himself. ‘It’s got to be here somewhere.’

  The small glow from his watch then lit up a lever marked:

  EMERGENZA

  ‘This must be it!’ Linden pulled down hard on the lever but it wouldn’t budge. ‘It’s stuck.’

  Toby hurried towards the light from Linden’s watch and, with both sets of hands on the switch, they pulled down hard. With a sharp crank, the lever grated downwards and the hum of the machines wound to a slow stop.

  ‘Excellent. Throw your Abseiler down,’ called Luca. ‘Quick!’

  Linden pulled the rope device from his bag, attached it to the railing and aimed at the spot of light below. ‘Here it comes.’

  Luca climbed into the machine immediately below the gate Max had fallen through and began wading through the icy pool.

  ‘Come on, Max,’ he pleaded. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m here,’ her voice wheezed.

  Luca swam over to her. ‘Max! Are you all right? Why didn’t you answer me? I thought you were …’

  ‘I’m okay,’ Max answered quietly. ‘The blades kept pushing me under. I tried to answer but I was getting mouthfuls of ice-cream.’

  Luca smiled.

  ‘I’m a little cold.’

  ‘Of course.’ Luca quickly attached the Abseiler to himself and Max and called up to Linden. ‘Ready!’

  Linden steadily wound the Abseiler up, pulling the two gluggy spies out of the vat. When they reached the walkway, he and Toby took hold of Max, released her from the rope and laid her down.

  ‘It’s about time you showed up,’ Linden said to her, his voice edged with relief.

  ‘Sorry, must have taken a wrong turn.’

  A burst of laughter tore out of Toby. ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she gasped.

  Max was lying in her white suit, shivering on the metal walkway, when the lights came on in a blinding flood. Marco re-entered the room from an emergency exit at the end of the walkway. Linden thought he saw a look of irritation on his face.

  ‘What happened?’ Marco growled.

  ‘It seems that someone …’ Luca was cut off by Max.

  ‘Nothing. I fell. I’m okay though.’ She wiped a clump of ice-cream off her head.

  ‘The ice-cream will be no good now. It’ll have to be thrown out.’ He stood and looked down into the vat. ‘Told her no-one should come in here,’ he muttered.

  ‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,’ Max mumbled sarcastically.

  ‘I will contact your driver to take you home immediately.’

  Marco walked out, his face welded into a finely sculpted sneer.

  Toby turned to help Max, but Luca already had his arms around her and was helping her to her feet. Luca took a swipe of ice-cream from Max’s shoulder. ‘White chocolate with pistachio nuts. Not bad.’

  ‘Not a big fan of pistachios,’ Max coughed.

  ‘Lucky I saved you then.’ A glob of ice-cream slid off his head.

  Toby’s eyebrows shot up his head. Yeah, he thought. You saved her. All by yourself.

  ‘Lucky.’ Max laughed.

  In the foyer, they discarded their suits, shoe covers and hats.

  ‘Signora Antonelli has had to attend to some urgent business,’ Marco sniffed. ‘You must leave straightaway. Your car is here.’

  ‘I’m sorry about the ice-cream, Signore Marco. I really appreciate you showing us through your factory. Could you tell Signora Antonelli that …’

  But Marco had turned before Max could finish and left with a soured sigh.

  ‘Doesn’t he just fill you with happiness?’ Linden marvelled.

  Alberto pulled up at the front of the factory with a slightly puzzled frown etched into his face. The four spies climbed into the car and remained silent for the entire journey back to the mayor’s house. Alberto caught Luca’s eye in the rear-view mirror, curious about why they were so quiet. Luca had known Alberto since he was a kid and it felt weird not telling him what had happened, but as Linden had said, they had to be extra careful who they spoke to now, so he just smiled and said nothing.

  It wasn’t until Max had showered and changed into warm clothes and Linden had set up the Shush Zone that they felt they could speak.

  ‘That was some fall. I think it might go down as your best yet,’ Linden joked softly. ‘How did it happen?’

  Max pulled the blanket around her. ‘I’m not sure. One minute I was standing up, then I was falling.’

  ‘It was the gate,’ Luca said softly. ‘The gate you leant on was open.’

  ‘I thought they were all locked,’ Linden frowned.

  ‘All except one it seems.’ Luca looked down.

  ‘This confirms it.’ Toby’s face filled with a victory grin. ‘Antonelli is definitely involved, not only in this but the threat to Venice as well.’

  ‘Nothing is confirmed,’ Luca said firmly.

  ‘For you, maybe,’ Toby said as a challenge. ‘But why did she get a phone call just before the lights went out? And why didn’t she come out of her office when we left? And why was her captain on the canal to rescue Max when no-one else was? And how about this?’

  He held out his watch for all of them to see and began the video replay. ‘This is the lab at Antonelli’s. The one we weren’t allowed to go into.’ He waited a few moments. ‘There’s a bench, some mixers, and those,’ he paused for effect. ‘Those are canisters for making bombs.’

  ‘Bombs?’ Max sat forward.

  ‘Yes.’ Toby stared at Luca. ‘How are you going to defend your ice-cream mistress now?’

  ‘Luca?’ Linden asked. The canisters did look a close match to the diagram they’d found at the bomb site.

  ‘Easy,’ he answered. ‘Max has one in her fridge.’

  ‘What?’ Toby’s smile fell from his face.

  Luca slipped under the Shush Zone and walked over to Max’s bar fridge. He brought out an identical metal cylinder filled with Chocolate Royale ice-cream and crawled back in under the Zone. ‘It’s the tub that Antonelli’s ice-cream comes in,’ he said with a warning tone. ‘Now I think it’s time you leave Signora Antonelli alone.’

  Toby sank back into his chair and became unusually quiet.

  Linden’s palm computer vibrated in his pocket. He opened the connection to see Steinberger. ‘Good morning, agents. How’s the mission?’

  There was a stilted pause in the room before Linden answered. ‘Fine.’

  ‘Excellent. Good work on the dive last night. Plomb has a team on its way at this moment to dismantle the bombs.’

  ‘When were they set to go off?’ Linden asked.

  ‘Tonight,’ Steinberger answered carefully. ‘At midnight.’

  ‘Will they get to them all before the deadline?’ Luca breathed.

  Steinberger shifted ever so slightly in his seat. ‘I have every faith that they will. There is one thing I need to tell you. We want you to keep a close eye on Signora Antonelli.’

  Toby eagerly sat forward. ‘Why, sir?’

  ‘As you know, the bombs also need a remote detonator to trigger the explosions. Plomb has pinpointed where the detonator is.’

  Toby smiled. ‘Signora Antonelli’s house.’

  Luca’s face whitened.

  ‘Yes,’ Steinberger confirmed. ‘In case Plomb’s team do not find all the bombs, we need you to discover where the detonator is and destroy it. Luca,
your father knows her, is there any way you can arrange a visit to her house to do some investigating?’

  The four spies exchanged doubtful looks. ‘That may not be so easy,’ Max said guiltily. ‘We were at her ice-cream factory this morning and I had … a little accident. We’re not sure if she’s even speaking to us.’

  ‘Oh,’ Steinberger replied. ‘That does make things tricky.’

  A small knock was heard from the door.

  ‘We’ll be back, sir.’ Linden closed the connection and deactivated the Shush Zone.

  Luca opened the door to receive a letter from a member of the house staff.

  ‘Grazie, Vittorio.’

  He closed the door. ‘It’s from Signora Antonelli. “I am deeply sorry for what happened at the factory,”’ he read. ‘“Please accept this invitation as my way of apology.”’

  ‘Invitation to what?’ Max asked.

  ‘Another drowning attempt?’ Toby raised one eyebrow.

  Max scowled at him.

  ‘A Carnival Ball at Signora Antonelli’s palazzo at seven o’clock tonight!’

  ‘That’s perfect,’ Max said.

  Toby sidled up to Luca. ‘Perfect for getting our chance to see how innocent she is.’

  ‘It will be.’ Luca stared back, determined to see Toby proven wrong.

  Linden quickly opened the connection on his computer and sent Steinberger a message. ‘There’s a party at Signora Antonelli’s tonight and we’ve just been invited.’

  ‘I’ve looked worse.’ Max stood in front of a mirror in the foyer of Signora Antonelli’s house in her long sparkling cape and giant peacock-feathered mask.

  ‘I think you look good in anything you wear,’ Luca said easily.

  Max took in a deep breath and almost swallowed one of her feathers, causing her to fall into a coughing fit.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Luca patted her on the back and reached for a glass of water from a passing waiter. ‘Drink this.’

  When Max was finally able to breathe again she took the water and silently wished she’d stop acting so strangely around Luca.

  Toby, on the other hand, was fed up with Luca’s slick ways. ‘Does he ever stop with the gentleman stuff? And what’s he got that I haven’t?’ he asked Linden.

  ‘You really want me to answer that?’

  Toby sighed. ‘Probably not, but tell me anyway.’

  ‘He lives in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. He’s surrounded by people who give him anything he wants, and he stands to inherit enough money to live like that for the rest of his life. And he has this accent that turns Max’s unmushable brain into complete slush. But apart from all that, he’s a nice guy.’

  ‘If he’s such a nice guy, why am I wearing this?’

  Toby looked down at his multi-coloured and tight-fitting harlequin jumpsuit with matching floppy pom-pom hat and mask. Luca’s house staff had organised costumes and Toby was sure he’d seen a look of amusement on their faces as they handed him his outfit. Luca was wearing a long sleek jacket and black eye mask while Linden was in a deep green cape with an eye patch and pointed regal-looking hat.

  Linden bit his lip and tried to stop laughing. ‘You look fine.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘Let’s go in,’ Luca called over his shoulder.

  Two men in tights with high-heeled boots, white painted faces and long curly wigs bowed as they opened the double doors to the ballroom.

  ‘Signora Antonelli sure knows how to throw a party,’ Linden admitted.

  The roof was filled with hundreds of red and white balloons and streamers, and below was a jostling, champagne-drinking crowd in rich sparkling gowns and flowing robes of all colours. There were white layered ruffs around necks, long tailored coats threaded with sequins and edged by flowing lace cuffs, and ornate masks worn on faces plastered with make-up and bright red lips. Amongst them all were masked waiters with shining silver trays packed with food.

  They threaded their way through the crowd.

  ‘This is the ball of the Carnival,’ Luca explained, biting into a piece of crumbed calamari. ‘Only the most privileged of guests are invited.’

  ‘Ah, you came!’ Signora Antonelli appeared from a crowd of people before them. She was dressed in a high white wig, long white gown with jewelled wings and an intricate heart-shaped ruby brooch pinned to her chest. ‘I am so delighted you’re here.’ She knelt down in front of Max. ‘Are you okay? Marco told me about the ice-cream vat. It seems luck hasn’t been with you so often in Venice.’

  Toby looked away and muttered, ‘She’d be a lot luckier if you’d stop turning up.’

  Max stamped down hard on his foot and Toby stifled a scream. ‘I’m fine. It was just an accident. I’m so sorry I contaminated your ice-cream. I’m not sure what happened. One minute I was standing, then …’

  ‘As long as you are safe, I am happy.’ Signora Antonelli stood up and held out her arms like an angel about to take off. ‘My house is your house. Help yourself to the food, the drinks and the fun!’

  She swept away into a whorl of new guests to welcome.

  ‘Max?’ Toby asked. ‘Can I show you something?’

  ‘Yes?’ Max, Luca and Linden all turned to stare at him.

  ‘Er … Just you, Max.’ He looked around the room and gestured vaguely. ‘Over there.’

  Max frowned and followed Toby to nowhere in particular.

  ‘Oh, yeah. This is a much better view than where we were standing,’ Max said sarcastically.

  ‘Max, I know you’re not going to like this,’ Toby said carefully. ‘But I think Luca is dobbing us in.’

  Max was finding it difficult to take Toby seriously when he was dressed as a brightly coloured clown. ‘You don’t think your dislike of Luca is going just a bit too far?’

  Toby flicked his pom-pom out of his face. ‘Why else has our every move been known?’

  ‘Because whoever is behind this is serious,’ Max whispered. ‘Luca is the mayor’s son. Why would he do anything to harm Venice?’

  ‘Who else could it be?’

  ‘You can stop there,’ said Max. ‘I think the safest thing would be to give your mouth the rest of the night off.’

  Max knew Toby had a point. It did seem as though their mission was bugged, and Luca did know a lot about their operation. But she refused to admit it. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, we have a mission to complete.’

  Max turned on her heels and walked over to Linden and Luca.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Luca asked.

  ‘Just fine.’ Max threw Toby a warning look. ‘Let’s go.’

  Steinberger had downloaded detailed diagrams of the house to their computers, enabling them to make a plan of attack. Trying to look like regular guests, Toby and Linden took small pies from a passing waiter as the four spies made their way through the mingling party guests to one of the exits. In a wide corridor just off the ballroom, they faced the enormous interior of Signora Antonelli’s house.

  ‘Right, you all know which rooms to search,’ Max instructed. ‘If anyone finds anything or gets into trouble, call on the watches straight away.’

  They each went in their own directions. Max’s first location was the library. She strode towards it confidently, hoping that if she ran into anyone, she’d look like she was supposed to be there. She slipped in easily and, closing the door behind her, stopped at the sight of the wall-to-wall cases full of books. There were comfortable lounges and chairs nestled beside lamps, and a bay window that stretched from the floor to the roof.

  Max activated her bomb detector and began looking through drawers and cabinets. There were bills, business documents and invoices: regular stuff. She checked for hidden safes or closets, but found nothing. The library was clear.

  She moved outside to begin checking the other rooms, and it was then she saw them. Two men had walked out of the ballroom wearing long black capes and gloves, and when they took off their masks, she knew: it was the guys who had followed them in the Piazza
San Marco.

  She looked around for a place to hide and raced through a swinging door, hoping she hadn’t been seen. She ducked to avoid a tray of steaming arancini rice balls and saw that she was inside the kitchen. The smells of cooking fish, chopped basil and bubbling pasta sauce hit her nose like an aromatic stun blaster.

  The kitchen was full of people in white chef’s outfits cutting, chopping and stirring. All Max needed to do was get to a door on the other side of the room without attracting attention to herself. Only, during her discreet escape, Max’s cape caught the handle of a giant colander of fresh scallops. She spun round just in time to see the white slippery circles of seafood slide across the floor, while the metallic colander twirled like a spinning top.

  The whole kitchen came to a quiet standstill. A tall and serious looking chef looked up from basting a steaming dish of roasted duck and eyed her with a poisoned scowl. His helpers stood by with stunned looks spread across their faces like olive oil.

  ‘Mi scusi,’ Max said, scrambling for the few words of Italian she knew. ‘Mi dispiace. Scusi. Scusi.’ She sank to the floor and tried to gather up the slippery fishy things in her hands. Each time she caught one it would slip from her fingers and spring out of her grasp. The chef started growling and moving towards her.

  ‘Signora Antonelli said I could see the house.’

  The name at least made the chef put down his carving knife, but she knew the best thing for her to do was get out of there fast, especially as the crash may have been heard by the two men outside. But when she walked forward, she slipped on a scallop and crashed into a bench with a carefully arranged platter of antipasto. The dish sailed into the air along with grilled and marinated pieces of smoked ham, olives, grilled capsicum and eggplant, all followed by a seasoned stream of olive oil.

  Max threw her hands above her head but it was no good. Most of the tasty tray of food landed all over her. Good one, Max, she thought. If the two guys hadn’t heard the first crash they would have heard that one.

  ‘Vai via! Vai via!’ The chef started yelling at her to get out while the kitchen swirled into a panic of trying to clean up Max’s mess. There were further cries and shouts as one of the kitchen hands also slipped on a scallop and came crashing down, knocking over a whole tray of raw baby octopus.