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“Something else: Before it was called Poveglia, it was Popilia.”
“Why does that sound familiar?”
“Popilia is a derivation of Populus—Latin for ‘poplar.’ Poveglia was once covered in poplar groves.”
“So on one hand we’ve got Poveglia, on the other Santa Maria di Nazareth. Both are solid possibilities. You’re right: It’ll come down to the first line of the riddle and our mysterious man from Istria.”
“Either way, our next stop is Venice.”
SEVASTOPOL
“I can tell by your tone the news is not good,” Hadeon Bondaruk said into the phone.
“They’re gone and one of my men is dead,” Kholkov said. “We found the transponder chip from the Fargo woman’s phone aboard one of the electric boats. How they discovered it I have no idea.” Kholkov recounted the rest of the encounter at Königssee, starting with their arrival at Saint Bartholomae and ending with his losing the Fargos on the lake. “Somehow they must have slipped back into Schönau without us spotting them.”
“Did they find the bottle?”
“I don’t know.”
“And where are they now?”
“We found a local that saw someone matching their description getting into a Mercedes. We traced it to a car service in Salzburg. We’re on our way there now. We’ll check the motels, the airport, the train stations—”
“No,” Bondaruk said.
“Pardon me?”
“Every time we get close to them they slip the noose. I think it’s time we step back and let the Fargos do what they do best. In the meantime, I want you to go ahead with your alternate plan.”
“There are risks.”
“I don’t care. I’m tired of chasing these people all over Europe. You have a man in mind?”
“Yes,” Kholkov said. “According to my sources, he’s the only one with a family—a wife and two daughters.”
“Get started.”
“If he reports it rather than—”
“Then make sure he doesn’t report it. Convince him that cooperation is his only way out. You can do that much, can’t you?”
“I’ll make the call.”
CHAPTER 53
VENICE, ITALY
The water taxi pulled to a stop and Sam and Remi climbed out. Together they stared at the surrounding buildings.
“No matter how many times I see it, it always takes my breath away,” Remi said.
Known to English tourists as Saint Mark’s Plaza, the Piazza San Marco is in fact a trapezoid sitting at the eastern mouth of the Grand Canal. Famous for its pigeons and geometric “hopscotch” stone inlays, it is perhaps the most famous plaza in all of Europe, home to some of Venice’s greatest attractions, many dating back a thousand years or more.
Sam and Remi turned in a circle, taking it in as if seeing it for the first time: Saint Mark’s Basilica, with its Byzantine domes and spires; the Campanile, its three-hundred-foot bell tower; the imposing Gothic Palazzo Ducale, or Doge’s Palace; and finally, directly opposite the basilica, the Ala Napoleonica, the one-time home of Napoleon’s administrative residence.
Whether a coincidence or not they would soon know, but they were keenly aware of Napoleon’s connection to Venice and the Piazza San Marco, which he’d dubbed “the drawing room of Europe.” In 1805, soon after Venice was named part of the newly created Kingdom of Italy, Napoleon ordered the Ala Napoleonica built after realizing his initial choices—the Zecca, or mint; the Libreria Marciana; and the Procuratie Nuove—were not large enough to accommodate his court.
It was nearly six o’clock and the sun was dipping toward the horizon over the roof of the Marciana Library. Some of the piazza lights had come on, casting amber pools on the arches and domes. Most of the day’s tourists had left and the piazza was quiet save for the background babble of voices and the cooing of the pigeons.
