It was the evening of San Giovanni di Batista, and everyone was gathered on the great lawn to celebrate with dancing, food and fireworks. There had been a party atmosphere for two days now, and this was a perfect opportunity to carry out the first part of his mission. For Cesare had a mission. He was not here in Sorrentina by chance, and he intended to carry it out perfectly and to the letter.

Taking one last look to make sure that everyone was at the festivities, and that no one was paying attention to him, he slowly walked away from the lawn, and made his way through the vines, towards the silent houses, standing empty, their occupants busy enjoying the evening.

Breaking in was nearly too easy. These people all left their windows open during these hot summer nights, and Cesare was very good at climbing over roof tops. He had had enough practice back home as a boy. Breaking and entering was a skill he had learnt early, and it still served him well when Cristofoli sent him on special missions. This was not the first time Cesare had worked for Cristofoli, and although Cristofoli was a hard task master, he also paid extremely well, and was a very good person for an ambitious young man from Mestre to know.

Cesare was very ambitious. He might be the son of a poor Fisherman, but he would not stay poor, nor would he remain on the mainland, nor would he ever be a Fisherman. No! He and his descendents would one day live in the heart of the city of Venice, and move in the best circles. They would dine with the best families. They would not be mere Fishermen, but Admirals in the Arsenale. He, Cesare Bertolini, would make it so no matter what it took, no matter what he had to do.

Cesare was very ambitious.

The first part of his mission was to locate some incriminating letters. Cesare began to search the writing bureau in one of the rooms, and soon found the documents he was looking for. Having checked that he had everything, Cesare gently closed the drawers of the bureau, and tucked the letters safely into the inside pocket of his jacket. Making sure that nothing was out of place he began making his way back out of the apartment. With some luck the occupant wouldn't notice the letters were missing for a while, and even if he did, what could he possibly do, without incriminating himself.

He stopped and opened a fine wooden box, containing a very fine set of Guns. Admiring them, Cesare promised himself that he too would possess such fine weapons one day, very soon. As he climbed back out of the apartment, nimble as a monkey, onto the roof tops, he took one last look around the finely furnished apartment. Sior Gandt was certainly living in fine style on Sbirri money!