Nancy caught her breath. A man had drowned or been shot to death under mysterious circumstances—and now his name had turned up in an entirely different context! Was it just a coincidence? Well, maybe, but Nancy had learned early on in her mystery-solving career to mistrust coincidences. She came out of her thoughtful trance with a start as she realized Don Madison was observing her keenly. “Did I say something wrong?” he inquired. “Far from it,” Nancy murmured. “Sorry if I seemed to be spinning my wheels. Actually, you just gave me something to think about.” She was pensive again for a moment before asking, “Where is Pietro’s flat located, by the way?” “Here on Murano, on the other side of the island.” “Will you be leaving the plant at closing time?” “Nope, not for a while. We’re going to shut down some of the furnaces. I’ve been acting as Pietro’s assistant lately, so they expect me to oversee the job.” Nancy would have been glad to wait, had Don offered to show her Pietro’s flat afterward.
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