The Grand Review - 17th May

"No...not at all." He chuckled. "I suspect that most of the men are considering such light moments as we speak... though on the outside they may be seen only as soldiers." He smiled at the girl.

"There is no time in life to despair, but only to hope and act, if you are able anyways."

The girl grinned and whispered: 'I should not be repeating this, but as my Papa's friend said: 'Even if you have been eaten, there are still two exits out of this problem for you..' She blushed and hid her face almost fully behind the fan.

Well, that was something... unexpected. He lifted an eyebrow at the girl, shaking his head. "Well, I shall sure hope that I am not eaten... I don't fancy either of those choices."

The girl grinned, the blush slowly disappearing: 'No doubt you are afraid that that will diminish your popularity with the ladies.' She tugged his arm gently, leading him on a stroll along the crowd's edge.

"No doubt I would think that the ladies were less interested in a half eaten man, than they might be in one whole." He answered with some humour in his voice. He hadn't expected the kind of conversation, not with a girl. Following the light tug, he walked with her, wondering where she wished to go next but glad for the company.

'I think you are right,' giggled Amalia, stepping over a twig. The crowd was not big, but it stretched out, rather than being clumped together. She stopped and then pointed to the city with her fan. 'You can just about see the university clock tower from here. Have you been to the university yet? It is very beautiful, though of course Papa prefers its Botanical Gardens to its buildings.' Someone called Amalia's name, and the girl turned around, her skirts brushing against Josef's legs.

Fandorin watched as Brotero made a final marking on the map, he'd handed him and said: 'Here, Senhor Von Dorn. I think these places are a must see. Very beautiful.' In reality, the man had been marking places, he used as hideouts while on his route to France, trying to escape the clutches of Inqusition. Erast took the map and folding it, hid it in his jacket.

Josef took a step to the side, lowering his gaze some. Since the girl was distracted he said nothing, but waited that she turn back, or that she request to meet with her friend or friends.

He glanced in the direction of the review and paused to observe the lines and numbers of men. He glanced at the crowd, studying the merry faces and wondered for a moment if amongst them, the killer was also. Or whether it was one of those men below.

Beatriz de Vieira, her arm linked with that of her husband's came up to them, smiling broadly, speaking in rapid Portuguese.
'Amalia! You should have told me you were coming here with your father! Antonio and I wanted to surprise you and when we got there, you were already gone and only some priest hanging about your house...'
Amalia paled.
'Priest... I must speak to Papa!' Tugging her arm free of Josef's she ran to the carriage where her father and Fandorin were seated.

Josef stood baffled - though he'd understood the conversation, it didn't help him understand what it was about - watching the girl run free towards her father. He bowed his head respectfully reverting to silence, since if either had chosen to speak Portuguese, he could not.

He bowed his head discreetly again, uttering a soft, heavily accented goodbye and followed after the girl intrigued, but less willing to stand in the other company.

While Beatriz and her husband stared after the couple, Amalia had reached the carriage, startling quite a few people on her way. She grabbed her father's hand without bothering to get into the carriage. Both he and Fandorin stared at the girl with surprised and worried faces.
'What is it, child?' asked Brotero.
'Papa! Papa, Beatriz saw a priest hanging about our house!'
Brotero frowned.
'What of it? There are plenty of them in the city...'
Amalia shook her father's hand.
'But what if it's the Inquisition again?!' Amalia grew up with the stories that her mother told her about her Father's persecution and though she never had a real reason to worry, the child's nightmares of her father being taken away still lived in the dark corners of her mind.
Brotero shushed her and helped the girl back into the carriage.
'Listen, dear, it is probably nothing. I have been back in Portugal for almost twenty years with no incident.'
'Papa...', pleaded Amalia.

Fandorin, whose policeman's instincts were roused by the girl's fear, leaned towards the family couple.
'Professor, if you wish, I shall go to your house and check that nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Perhaps your servants will tell me if the priest did really come there.'

Brotero frowned, he did not believe that after all these years the Inquisition suddenly returned their attention to him, but his daughter was obviously shaken and, only if to reassure her, he decided to accept Von Dorn's gracious offer.
'Yes, if that would not be too much trouble for you, Senhor Von Dorn. We would be very grateful.' Amalia nodded emphatically.

Fandorin gathered up his cane and hat and sprang out of the carriage nimbly.
'Widmayer!' He called the boy, who was already approaching the carriage. 'Come along!'

Widmayer had hurried to Fandorin as quickly as a well trained hound. He hadn't asked a single question deciding that his master might explain once they were away, wherever they might be going in such a hurry. He threw a glance to the review. Perhaps they would miss it, but whatever troubled Fandorin , looked to be of greater importance.

(gone to here )