* * * Oh, and what if we had a member of Il Rosso suddenly appear in court in the middle of the trial? Since Il Rosso was a common theme in admonitions from parents and grandparents and even children’s puppet plays, the people of Soldita instinctively feared the red-caped figures. Scarlett had used that fear. “But, Mr. Randolph, where did you get your information?” Lucia asked, referring to the man at the Chamber of Commerce who had been the final nail in Gregorio’s coffin. She was sure he hadn’t known before the trial began. “Lady Fargo told me as I was leaving.” “Lady Daniella?” “Yes. She has many friends.” Lucia remembered Connie saying that Daniella belonged to a gossip club. That must have been where she’d learned the key information. Just then, Lucia noticed that Randolph looked upset. “Mr. Randolph? You don’t look very happy…” “No, it’s just, I know it’s a bit late for this, but I wish I wasn’t wearing this embarrassing outfit.” He looked down at himself. Just in case, he’d put on his Royal Security Force uniform under the cape, but other than that, it was an authentic Il Rosso costume. He seemed a bit shy about it. Lucia squeezed her fists and shook her head dramatically. “Oh, no, it looks wonderful on you! I feel like I’m watching an opera in the capital! I only wish Miss Connie could see you…!” “I’d rather she didn’t.” The red cape had been in the dressing room of the Fargo residence. It was patterned on military clothing and fit Randolph like a glove. “You delivered that line so perfectly, too! You stared at them like this and said, ‘I know what you’ve done!’” “Lucia, I mean it,” he pleaded, an unusual gesture coming from him. But just as Lucia was tilting her head in puzzlement— The sound of an explosion thundered through the courtroom. The building shook slightly, and a bit of sawdust drifted down from the ceiling. Lucia looked back at Randolph in surprise. “Do you think that was Miss Connie?” “…I’m praying it wasn’t.” The courthouse staff rushed outside to see what had happened and came back chattering excitedly. “Firecrackers!” “It was the firecrackers!” “I’m not sure what happened, but a whole lot of firecrackers are going off near Mezzaluna Bridge!” Lucia stared at Randolph. “So it was Miss Connie,” she said. “……I don’t want to think about it.” Half an hour earlier, Connie was standing on top of the desolate Mezzaluna Pier, looking foolish. Then let’s make sure they never get the chance to use them. Scarlett was talking about the firecrackers, of course. Her declaration had come as they realized they couldn’t move the freight. It all sounded a bit reckless to Connie. What exactly did she plan to do? “…You don’t mean…?” Connie asked timidly. Scarlett grinned at her. “If we can’t move them, then we might as well set them off here.” “Set them off…” Had she really heard such a disturbing phrase, or had it been her imagination? It must have been her imagination. “All right, Connie, we need some branches.” “…What for?” “Why, to light in that watchfire and throw onto the boat, of course.” Nope, not her imagination. “Oh no, no, no…!” That would most definitely be a crime. Not a gray area or an off-white area, but a pitch-black crime. Scarlett, however, did not appreciate Connie’s concerns. “What, you want us to slink away without doing anything?” “No, I was just thinking we could go get Randolph and—” “How do you know that the bad guys won’t set a trap in the meantime?” “Uh…” Scarlett was right. Still, setting the firecrackers off seemed like a rather extreme measure. People weren’t allowed in this area, but what if someone happened to be in the gondola? Scarlett must have guessed Connie’s thoughts, because she gestured with her chin to the boats below the pier. “It’s fine, no one’s in those boats. You know how good my eyes are.” “B-but what if the fire spread to another gondola?” That would involve people who had nothing to do with this. Scarlett snorted with profound disinterest. “So what?” “Scarlett!” “No one’s going to die from a boat catching fire.” Connie’s green eyes widened. “We don’t know what those louts are planning to do with the gunpowder,” Scarlett went on, “but it will definitely be something bad.” That was true. Whatever Daeg Gallus did would probably hurt a lot of people. They might even kill without a second thought. Like they had on the sunken ship. “Well, what are you going to do?” Scarlett asked. Connie bit her lip and looked up. “I’m in…!” She didn’t know how she looked just then, but it must have been pretty pathetic, because Scarlett’s face relaxed into a smile. Once they’d made up their minds, things went quickly. Connie gathered some branches. There was a park a short walk from the bridge and tree-lined streets nearby, which together yielded a surprising haul. When she tied them together with a shoelace, the bundle was about as thick as her wrist. Next, she lit her makeshift torch in the watchfire atop its wooden tripod and took aim from the top of the bridge. Raising her arm high, she launched the bundle in a gentle arc toward the canal. “Yes!” she exclaimed as it sailed through the air, but she had overestimated her own athleticism. The torch abruptly slowed and plummeted toward the water well short of the gondola. “Ah!” Just then, a strong wind blew past her and lifted the projectile before it was sucked toward the ocean. “Scarlett…!” It fortuitously fell right onto the gondola. But now they had another problem… “Doesn’t the fire look a bit weak?” she asked. “…It does,” Scarlett agreed. From what Connie could see, the branch didn’t seem to be burning very well. It was sure to go out before the flames reached the firecrackers. Frantic to find something that might help, she dumped out her bag. A handkerchief, a hand mirror, and a coin purse tumbled to the ground. Then came the bottle of sniffing brandy from the Fargos’ head maid and the box of matches Daniella had given her at the coffeehouse. “Oh, I think that will work,” Scarlett said. “What?” Scarlett told her to stuff the handkerchief into the mouth of the bottle of spirits. Connie did as instructed. “…Why do you know how to do this, Scarlett?” “All ladies do.” What sort of lady does she mean? Connie wondered as she touched the match to the mouth of the bottle. “Oooh, hot!” She threw it as hard as she could off the bridge. As before, it started out sailing through the air in a nice arc. But given what had happened last time, she didn’t expect it to hit its mark. Instead, she stared pleadingly at Scarlett, who sighed in exasperation. The wind picked up and corrected the bottle’s course. Scarlett skillfully manipulated the wind so that the bottle fell onto the gondola. There was a quiet shattering sound, and this time the fire spread in a flash. Roaring flames crawled over the freight like a wild animal, and then they heard a popping sound. Something that looked like static electricity flickered. A moment later, a huge explosion thundered through the air. “Whoa…!” The bridge shook. Connie grabbed the rail in a panic. White smoke was billowing from the gondola. Behind the smoke, the violent explosions continued like gunfire, and the flashes of light grew and overlapped one another. It was like a thundercloud full of lightning. The blinding radiance lit up the surrounding city streets against the dark sky as clearly as if it were midafternoon. Connie gaped in shock. “I think we overdid it…” “It’s fine. My mother always used to say that whatever you’re doing, too much is always just right.” “Lady Aliénore sounds like a frightening person.” An arrow of light whined into the night sky. There must have been a few fireworks mixed in with the firecrackers. Gradually, a crowd gathered around the bridge, probably drawn by the noise. The roadblocks kept them from getting too close, but each time a flash pierced the sky, cheers rose from the crowd. The thundering and flashes of light continued, drawing more spectators. Connie had been watching the crowd for a while when she heard a low rumbling sound, separate from the explosions. She looked up in surprise. It was a bell. “The bell at the clock tower,” Scarlett said. The heavy sound tore through the still of the night. Connie remembered the day she arrived on El Sol. The bell had rung just like it was ringing now, and hadn’t Marco called it the Bell of Judgment? He said people could tell who had won or lost by the number of times it rang. Once if the plaintiff had won, twice if they had lost… Which meant that if Gregorio’s claim was accepted, it would ring once, and if Lucia was proven right, it would ring twice. The heavy bass reverberations finally died out, and then it rang again. After that, it was silent. “…Twice,” Connie whispered before twirling around to face Scarlett. “The girl won.” “Yes…!” Count on Lucia O’Brian. As Connie wondered how she’d done it, she remembered seeing Scarlett give her some advice. Maybe her partner in crime had shared enough of her expertise in bluffing and foul play for Lucia to expose Gregorio Vecchio’s crimes. “I have no doubt Daeg Gallus is watching this scene from somewhere,” Scarlett said, looking down on the canal. The explosions flashing in her amethyst eyes were like stars in the night sky. Scarlett Castiel laughed haughtily. “I hope you’re disappointed, fellows.” Even as she spoke, a dazzling comet of light shot up and illuminated the night sky. Glittering sparks swirled like confetti before slowly unraveling into the black of night. The bonfire in the middle of the fountain plaza licked hungrily toward the heavens. Revelers danced freely around the flames. Unlike a ball, there seemed to be no set etiquette here. Dancers leapt or pranced in time with the lively foreign music. The pairings weren’t limited to men dancing with women; men wrapped their arms around other men’s shoulders as they sang, and women faced each other and tapped their heels. There were no difficult rules, and everyone enjoyed themselves as they pleased. The only common thread was that they all wore masks. The festival had begun as a celebration of the day when spirits returned to their families, and masks were worn so that the dead would be able to join freely in the festivities. Marco had said before that Carnival was the time when the dead and the living joined hands and danced through the night. That was why Connie had returned to the mansion to get her mask. Lucia had done the same. The children would normally have been in bed already, but on this night alone, they were allowed to stay up late. The three of them were right next to the bonfire, facing one another as they danced and having a lot of fun, it seemed. It had been a chaotic day for Connie. Finally freed from nervous tension, she let out a long breath. “You’re not going to dance?” Scarlett asked. “By myself…?” Even if her face was hidden by a mask, she lacked the skill or the courage to join the circle. She didn’t see anyone else dancing alone. As she peered around, though, she noticed another woman looking around curiously. She wore a mask over the upper half of her face and a dress of cotton and hemp that reached her ankles. A wide leather belt cinched the waist of the simple, comfortable-looking frock. Connie watched her for a few minutes, sympathizing with her apparent inexperience, but then she became distracted by the sight of Lucia spinning in circles. She looked just like a summer fairy with her winged white dress flying out around her. Perhaps sensing Connie’s gaze, Lucia turned toward her. When their eyes met, she grinned and said something to Ulysses and Antonio. Then, as always, she ran over to Connie. “Miss Connie!” She seemed in high spirits, though her day had been just as eventful as Connie’s. “Have you seen Mr. Randolph yet?” she asked. Connie shook her head, a distant look in her eyes. According to Marco, he had gone with Basilio to arrest any Daeg Gallus members who were still on the island. Typical. “Oh, I see…,” Lucia said, looking disappointed. “Did you want to talk to him about something?” Lucia shook her head. “I so wanted you to see his costume…” “…His costume?!” At first, the word didn’t register. And when it did, all Connie could do was parrot Lucia idiotically. “Yes! The Il Rosso costume looked divine on him!” “I didn’t hear anything about that…” Had Lucia just said Il Rosso? If so, she must mean the costume Connie had seen in the dressing room earlier. She had no clue how he ended up wearing it, but she promised Lucia she would ask Daniella later if they could borrow it again. As Connie burned with quiet determination, Lucia stood on tiptoe to whisper in Scarlett’s ear. Of course, she wasn’t tall enough to reach it, so Scarlett floated down to her with a resigned expression.
Chapter 73
12 min read