"Are you a lawyer, as well?" Stone asked.
"I was trained as such at Harvard," Bellini replied, "and my work requires me still to employ those skills from time to time-after which I immediately visit my confessor. I should hate to die with the practice of law on my soul."
"I understand you also dabble in banking."
"Yes, but there is nothing so pure as money, used properly. I am required to ask you, Stone, if you have ever been married."
"No, Your Eminence; I've come close, but I've never been in serious trouble."
"And do you willingly consent to your wife's devout practice of her religion?"
"Willingly, Your Eminence. To deny Dolce anything could be dangerous to my health."
Bellini seemed to try not to laugh, but Dino couldn't help himself.
The women arrived, and they all moved to a table set in the center of the garden, where they feasted on antipasti, a pasta with lobster sauce, and a glittering white wine, served from frosted pitchers. During most of lunch, Eduardo and the cardinal conversed seriously in Italian.
When they got up from the table, Stone sidled over to Dino. "What were Eduardo and Bellini talking about at lunch?" he asked.
"Not you, pal," Dino said. "They were doing business." He glanced at his father-in-law to be sure he would not be overheard. "Eduardo still doesn't know how much Italian I understand."
Stone and Dolce took a walk together through the narrow streets of Venice, becoming hopelessly lost. They did a little window shopping and talked happily. Stone tried to find out where they were honeymooning, but Dolce would reveal nothing.
They returned to the palazzo in the late afternoon, ready for a nap. Stone was shown to a suite-sitting room and bedroom-that overlooked the Grand Canal. He dozed off to the sounds of motorboats and of water lapping against stone.
He dreamed something that disturbed him, but when he awoke, he couldn't remember what it was. He joined the others for cocktails with a strange sense of foreboding.
At cocktails, Eduardo's sister, Rosaria, was present; she was a large woman who perpetually wore the black dresses of a widow. Stone had met her at Eduardo's home in New York, where she had kept house for her brother since his wife's death. Her younger niece was named for her, but the family had always called her Dolce.
The cardinal was now dressed in a beautifully cut black suit.
Half an hour later they were all shown aboard Eduardo's motor launch and transported to dinner at the world-famous Harry's Bar. Stone suspected that Eduardo's presence alone would be cause for considerable deference from the restaurant's staff, but the presence of a cardinal sent them into paroxysms of service. Stone had never seen so many waiters move so fast and from so crouched a position.
They dined on a variety of antipasti and thinly sliced calf's liver with a sherry sauce, with a saffron risotto on the side. The wines were superlative, and by the time they had been returned to the Bianchi palazzo, Stone was a little drunk, more than a little jet-lagged, and ready for bed. Dolce left him at his door with
a kiss and vanished down the hallway.
Stone died for ten hours.
Chapter 4
At nine o'clock the following morning, Stone was resurrected by a servant bearing a tray of blood-red orange juice, toast, prosciutto, sliced figs, small pastries, and coffee. A corner of the huge tray held that day's International Herald Tribune and the previous day's New York Times. By the time he had breakfasted and done the crossword puzzle, it was after ten.
The servant knocked and entered. "Mister Bianchi requests that you be downstairs at eleven o'clock," he said. "The civil ceremony is to be at noon." He disappeared.
Stone shaved and showered then went to the huge cupboard where his clothes hung, all freshly pressed. He dressed in a white linen suit he had bought for the occasion, a pale yellow, Sea Island cotton shirt, a tie with muted stripes, and tan alligator oxfords. Finally, he tucked a yellow silk square into his breast pocket, stuffed his trouser pockets with the usual contents, including some lire, and consulted the mirror. It occurred to him that he might never look so good again.
The group gathered in the central hall of the palazzo. Dolce wore a dazzling white silk dress that showed a becoming amount of very fine leg and wore only a single strand of pearls for jewelry, along with the five-carat, emerald-cut diamond engagement ring supplied by a man of Stone's acquaintance in the diamond district of New York.
"You are very beautiful," Stone said to Dolce, kissing her.
"Funny, that's what I was going to say about you," Dolce replied. "I love the suit."
"It's my wedding dress," Stone explained.
Dino and Mary Ann were well turned out, and to Stone's astonishment, Aunt Rosaria wore a dress of white lace. She was, apparently, out of mourning, at least for the day.
"Is the cardinal coming?" Stone asked Dino.