Affair in Venice

by Rachel Lindsay

  Erica was so overwhelmed by the Signora's defence of her that she could have wept. Instead, she hugged the plump shoulders and stammered her thanks.

  'Thank me later,' the Signora said brusquely. 'First we must work out how the real emerald was taken.'

  'I think I know.'

  'Then why haven't you—?'

  'Because I can't prove it.' Quickly she recounted her suspicions, explaining not only how she thought the emerald had been substituted but also why.

  'I think you have hit the hammer on the head,' said the Signora, her usual fluency in error. The only thing that puzzles me is where Signora Medina got such an exact replica made. She must have had it done in Rome or Milan. It would have been too dangerous to have gone to anyone here.'

  'It must have been very expensive too,' Erica added. 'She obviously intended switching stones and selling the real one.'

  'That means that even before you came on the scene she was not so sure of capturing the Conte as a husband.' Signora Botelli shook her head in amazement. 'She must hate you very much indeed, to have done such a thing. Not just to switch die jewels but to plant the real one in your apartment. She had to make certain you were known to be guilty.'

  'A million lire worth of hate,' Erica sighed. 'It's frightening, isn't it?'

  'But what if the Conte hadn't given you the brooch to mend? How would she have managed to make the changeover?'

  'Perhaps she was hoping he would let her wear it one evening.'

  'Of course. I think she may even have had a copy of the whole brooch made. Then she could have substituted the entire piece.'

  Erica's admiration for the Signora grew. 'I never thought of that.'

  'I would have made a better thief than you,' the woman said drily. 'It is the obvious solution. The entire brooch was going to be switched, but when she discovered you were going to re-set the emerald, she changed her plans in order to make you look guilty.'

  Erica nodded. Everything was falling into place. But best of all she was pleased to think that Claudia had planned to steal the brooch a long time ago, for it meant Filippo had never indicated a desire to marry her.

  'If she had changed one brooch for another the theft might not have been discovered for years,' Signora Botelli said. 'And by then no one could have suspected Claudia Medina.'

  'They don't suspect her now,' Erica said bitterly. 'Claudia has convinced herself that once she has discredited me Filippo will turn to her.'

  'The Conte will not go on doubting you. When he has had a chance to think clearly he will—'

  'You didn't see his face yesterday… the way he wouldn't look at me.'

  'You are misjudging him.'

  'Am I?' Erica whispered, and glancing over the Signora's shoulder saw a tall dark-haired man and a petite, curvaceous woman beside him. 'I don't think so,' she added, and stepped behind the counter as Filippo ushered Claudia into the shop.

  Had her misery not been so strong, Erica could almost have laughed at die look of astonishment on Signora Botelli's face. The small mouth opened in surprise and the double chins trembled, making the woman look like an agitated hen.

  'C-Conte Rosetti,' she stammered. 'Wh-what can I do for you?'

  'We have come to look at the designs Erica has prepared for Signora Medina.'

  Signora Botelli's astonishment increased and she flung Erica a look as though warning her to say nothing. But had her life depended on it, Erica could not have spoken, for Filippo's effrontery in coming here with Claudia had rendered her speechless. He was now asking to see her jewellery designs even though he believed she had stolen his emerald. Worse still, less than seventy-two hours ago he had professed undying love for her, but now he had his arm resting delicately on Claudia's, his eyes looking at her with warmth. Fury engulfed her and it took all her will power not to lash out at him, either physically or verbally.

  'I am surprised you wish to utilize my services,' she said coolly. 'You surely don't expect me to forget what happened last night?'

  'I am the one who should have the most difficulty in forgetting,' Filippo retorted, and kept his voice low, as if unwilling for Signora Botelli to hear.

  'You needn't whisper,' Erica said loudly. 'I have told Signora Botelli about the stolen emerald and she believes I'm innocent.'

  Claudia Medina laughed, the first sound she had uttered since she had come into the shop.

  Erica fixed her with a cold stare. "You find that difficult to believe?'

  'Not difficult, Miss Rayburn. Impossible.'

  Erica's control began to slip and blindly she turned towards the office. 'Please let Signora Botelli serve you,' she said raggedly.

  'We want to see your designs.' Filippo's voice caught her back. 'Please show them to us.'

  'No!' she cried. 'I can't work for you or Signora Medina. You can't expect me to.'

  'Please get the designs,' he repeated, and blindly she plunged into the office and bent to the drawer.

  She rummaged in the bottom one and then returned to the shop with the drawings in her hand. 'I have no intention of making them,' her voice was so soft that she could hardly hear it herself, but she knew Filippo had heard, for the look he flung her was unexpectedly compassionate. Her heart began to pound and she closed her eyes and looked away.

  'Please give the drawings to Signora Medina,' he said quietly. 'If she likes them as much today as she did yesterday, then—'

  'I won't make them up,' Erica repeated. 'I'm leaving Venice anyway. Unless you are going to have me arrested?'

  'Filippo doesn't want the publicity.'

  Claudia spoke before he could do so, and Erica was surprised he should allow any woman to answer for him. Yet perhaps he had finally decided that Claudia wasn't any woman, but the special one. It was incredible to think he could change his allegiance so quickly, and she prayed they would leave the shop before her control gave way and she shamed herself by bursting into tears.

  'I don't think I like the designs after all,' Claudia said.

  'Not even the bracelet?' Filippo pointed to the sketch.

  'Look at it again, Claudia. Pick it up and take it to the light.'

  With a shrug Claudia did so, stiffening perceptibly as she saw the dapper figure of the inspector of police standing in the arcade. At once Filippo went to the door and opened it. 'Just in time, Vittorio,' he called.

  The Inspector nodded, entered the shop and took the sketch from Claudia. He held one corner of it only, then carefully took a plastic bag from his jacket pocket, blew into it and dropped the sketch inside.

  'What are you doing?' Claudia asked.

  'I do not wish to obliterate your fingerprints, signora.'

  'My what?'

  'Your fingerprints. We wish to compare them with the one we found on the emerald.'

  Claudia looked at the Inspector as though he were mad. 'Do you know what you are saying?' she demanded.

  'Indeed I do. I am saying it would be in your best interests to make no comment on my actions for fear of implicating yourself further.'

  Claudia swung round to Filippo. 'What's all this about? Do you know what this - this policeman is doing?'

  'Yes, I do. He is following my suggestion.'

  Only then did Claudia show genuine horror and, seeing the look on her face, Filippo's own grew unexpectedly sad.

  'You are a foolish woman, Claudia. Not just wicked but foolish. Did you honestly think you could make me believe Erica was a thief?'

  'There is no question of thinking it,' Claudia said haughtily. 'You had the proof given to you last night when you found the emerald in her apartment. You told me so yourself, or was that a lie?'

  'You know it wasn't a lie, Claudia, because you put it there!'

  Claudia flung back her head and laughed. 'Have you taken leave of your senses, Filippo? Why should I wish to do a thing like that?'

  'You do not need me to give you your reasons.'

  She went on smiling. 'I suppose the next thing you are going to say is that you found my f
ingerprints on the jewel box?'

  'We didn't,' he replied, 'because you wore gloves. But you didn't wear gloves when you substituted the false emerald for the real one when you came to the shop.'

  Claudia's eyes were two liquid pools of reproach. 'If I didn't know you better, Filippo, I would be angry with you. As it is, I am sad because you have obviously allowed your infatuation for this English girl to blind you to the truth.'

  'My love for Erica,' he stressed the word 'love', 'has shown me the truth. I know she cannot be guilty, and since you were the only other person who had the opportunity of stealing the emerald—'

  'What about Signora Botelli?' Claudia interrupted angrily. 'Do you love her so much that you assume her innocent too?'

  'Her fingerprints weren't found on the emerald. But yours were.'

  'What's so surprising about that?' Claudia demanded. 'I picked up the brooch when you showed it to me at the Palazzo weeks ago. Why shouldn't my fingerprints be on it?'

  'Because when I gave Erica the brooch to repair I wiped it carefully with my handkerchief.' He glanced at Vittorio. 'All the jewellery was photographed for insurance purposes and in order to lessen the glare from the platinum and gold it was brushed with powder. The pieces were cleaned again after the photographs were taken, but the emerald brooch still had the traces of powder on it. I noticed it when I was giving it to Erica and so I wiped it again.'

  'You dusted it,' Claudia said imperiously. 'That would not have obliterated my finger marks.'

  'I did more than dust it,' he stated. 'I polished it'

  'I appreciate that you are trying to prove Miss Rayburn innocent.' Claudia was angry and made no attempt to hide it 'But I refuse to let you put the blame on me.'

  'It will be easy to verify if your fingerprints were put on to the emerald before the Conte wiped it clean,' the Inspector said suddenly.

  'I tell you he did not wipe it clean!' Claudia almost spat out the words. 'If he did, my fingerprints would not be on it at all.'

  'Fingerprints fade with time,' the Inspector assured her, 'and if yours were done when you say they were, then our analysis will show it.'

  'What do you mean?'

  The mark of your forefinger and thumb are on the emerald. The Conte maintains they were put there yesterday when you possessed yourself of the stone. However, you maintain that your fingerprints were put on it some weeks ago. Our own spectrum analysis will show us who is speaking the truth.'

  'Your what analysis?' Claudia demanded.

  'Spectrum,' said the Inspector. 'It is a method by which the date of a fingerprint can be given almost to the hour.'

  'So you have nothing to worry about, Claudia,' Filippo said quietly. 'If I have misjudged you I will repay you handsomely for having doubted you.'

  'And if you have not misjudged the Signora, then you will keep your promise to us, Conte, and press charges?'

  'Of course, Inspector. I have given you my word on that'

  'What word?' Claudia demanded.

  'We had to have the spectrum machine flown here from Naples,' the Inspector replied. 'We refused to go to the expense unless the Conte promised to press charges if you were found to be guilty.'

  Erica turned away, not wishing to hear the next outburst from Claudia. But there was silence and only as it lengthened did she turn round. Claudia was still by the window, looking from Filippo to the Inspector and then back to Filippo again.

  'I don't understand what game you are playing,' she said in a shaky voice.

  'It is no game, Claudia,' Filippo replied. Under normal circumstances I would not have given Vittorio my promise to prosecute. You know how much I hate publicity. I would even prefer to let a thief escape - providing I had my jewels back - than have the notoriety of a court case. But where the name of the woman I love is at stake, then I have no choice.'

  'Her name isn't at stake! No one knows what happened last night.'

  'Vittorio knows, Signora Botelli knows and you know. And you, I am sure, would see that all our friends knew too. Because of that it was not enough for me to believe in Erica's innocence; I had to prove it for everyone else to know. And that meant finding the real culprit.'

  'It hurts me to think you should have suspected me,' Claudia said sadly. 'I thought we were fond of each other.'

  'I was fond of you, Claudia, but I love Erica.'

  'Erica!' Claudia spat out the word. 'Erica, Erica. I'm sick of that name. Is that all you can think about - that pale- faced fool with the big innocent eyes! You're mad to be in love with her. She will bore you to death in six months and in a year you will be running around with other women!'

  'Be quiet!' Filippo thundered.

  'Please, my friend,' the Inspector said. 'We are digressing from the point. I suggest you and Signora Medina come to police headquarters while we do this analysis.'

  'So that you can arrest me?' Claudia gave a cry and tried to push past the Inspector to throw herself against Filippo. 'Will your conscience let you send me to prison? The widow of your greatest friend - the man you loved as a brother!'

  'I will destroy anyone who threatened to destroy Erica.' Filippo almost snarled the words. 'And you haven't even got the courage to admit your guilt. If you force me to prove it I'll —'

  'I don't care about your proof!' Claudia screamed. 'And I don't care about you! If you can love a stupid little nothing, then you deserve her!' The dark eyes were no longer limpid, but flashing with fire. 'I should never have put the emerald in her apartment. If you hadn't found it you would never have been able to prove it was me.'

  Filippo fell back a step. The anger had gone from his face, and blanched of all colour and emotion it looked like a mask.

  'You could have got away with it,' he muttered. 'You could have had a million lire if you had been content with money rather than destroying Erica.'

  'Destroying her was worth more to me than the money,' Claudia said, and she was bereft of emotion too. All anger had drained from her and she stood in front of them as devoid of feeling as a zombie. 'You were mine, Filippo, and I wasn't going to let any other woman have you. Being your wife meant more to me than a hundred emeralds!'

  'Indeed it would,' he said quietly.

  'Not because of the money,' she said. 'But because I wanted you. You.' She put out her hands in a blind gesture and the Inspector caught hold of them and led her to the door.

  'Take her home,' Filippo said harshly. 'Then sit with her while she packs and leaves Venice.'

  Only then did Claudia appear to hear what was said, for she turned and looked at Filippo. 'You are letting me go?'

  'Yes. As you just said, you are the widow of the man who was my closest friend. It is for his sake that I am doing it, not yours. But you are to leave Italy for the next five years, and even when you return, you are not to live in Venice nor to mix in my circle of friends.' He looked at the Inspector. 'I suggest you take a statement from Signora Medina and put it on record. If she does not keep her side of the bargain I am sure you will always be able to find the file again.'

  'We never close a case,' Vittorio agreed, and held open the door for Claudia to step through it She did so and the Inspector glanced over his shoulder at Erica. 'I hope we meet again under more pleasant circumstances, Miss Ray- burn.'

  Erica nodded, but was too overcome to speak. She searched round wildly for somewhere to sit, afraid that she was going to faint. Strong hands came around her and she was half lifted into the office. The door was closed and she was alone with Filippo at last

  'Forgive me for what I did, cara mia,' he pleaded. 'But I dared not tell you what was in my mind last night for fear you would give yourself away when I came in here with Claudia this morning.'

  'You mean you - you were planning it then?'

  'Of course. I knew you had not taken the emerald.'

  'You never said so.' Tears poured down her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them away and he came over and, taking his handkerchief from his pocket, did so for her.

  'Did I need
to say it?' he asked. 'Didn't you know I could never doubt you any more than you could ever doubt me?'

  'Oh, Filippo,' she cried, 'I've been so blind!'

  'You have always been blind about me. That's why we will be married quickly. Only when you are truly mine will you have sufficient confidence in yourself to realize how much I love you.'

  She leaned against him and felt his arms come around her. His heart was hammering and she pressed close to his chest, hearing in the fast beat the echo of her own and knowing that for him too this last dreadful scene had been a taxing one. 'It was clever of you to suspect, Claudia.'

  'Didn't you?'

  'Yes,' she admitted. 'I nearly came to tell you last night, but I was afraid you wouldn't believe me.'

  'I would have been furious with you if you had left your apartment. I told you not to do so.'

  She glanced up at him. 'You were very insistent about that, Filippo. Why?'

  He hesitated and for the first time she saw genuine fear in his eyes. 'I had a feeling Claudia might harm you; that she might realize my love for you would make me want to many you regardless of what you had done.'

  Erica moistened lips that had suddenly gone dry. 'You thought she might have killed me?'

  He nodded. 'I had one of the servants stand outside your apartment all night and watch you until you were safely in the shop this morning.'

  His words made her tremble and she burrowed against him. 'You would never have been able to prove it was Claudia without that new fingerprint analysis.'

  'Indeed not.'

  'Then there'd have been no way of establishing my innocence.'

  'Indeed not.'

  'I can't believe it,' she went on, and tilted her head to look into his face.

  'Indeed not,' he said again. 'You would be exceedingly simple if you did.'

  She looked up and saw the twinkle in his eyes and the laughter which, bubbling within him, made his shoulders shake.

  'What are you saying, Filippo?'

  'That the whole thing was a lie, my darling. A great whopping lie which my brilliant friend, Vittorio, dreamed up.'

  'You mean you can't tell the age of a fingerprint?'

  'Neither the age nor the sex. It is possible to tell the age of many other things, as I'm sure your father knows. Pottery, metal, bones, trees - but fingerprints and women keep their age to themselves!'