A Fatal Façade

by Linda M. James

  Mr. Macari smiled at her gently. ‘I can see why Paolo likes you. You’re a lioness. Just like his mother. But I don’t want Paolo’s money. I just want his love, but he gave it all to his mother.’

  Bianca’s eyes filled with tears; she wanted exactly the same love but never received it either. How odd to be united with a stranger through a lack of love.

  ‘I can’t understand why he won’t see you. I wish I’d had a father as forgiving as you.’

  ‘Grazie mille. That is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me, Signorina Vella. I’m glad Paolo is changing. One day, I hope to see him again with you. Mi scusi devo dormire ora.’

  Bianca saw the old man’s eyes drooping and got up to kneel beside him. ‘I’m getting a builder to repair the roof, Mr. Macari, and the bill will be sent to Paolo. No arguments. May I come again?’

  ‘I would like that very much,’ he said, patting her hand. ‘Goodbye, mio caro.’

  Bianca tip-toed out of the house as the old man went to sleep in his chair. If she could think of a way to make Paolo see what a lovely father he had, he might become the man they both wanted.

  CHAPTER 26

  18th December 2012

  Tom was playing chess with his grandfather while Lucy watched every move they made; every time Tom made a mistake she tapped a finger on her lap-top. Her father smiled at her.

  ‘My daughter isn’t helping her son to cheat, is she?’

  Lucy blinked at him twice and Tom laughed. ‘Mum’s just got a restless finger, Gramps.’

  Jack looked up from his newspaper in surprise; he hadn’t heard Tom laugh for such long time, he’d almost forgotten how infectious it was. He smiled at his son, willing him to look at him; of course, he didn’t. He was trying to win the game to show his mother how clever he was; always wanting to impress her. He’d always known that his mother was more brilliant than his father, even as a small boy. Jack turned his attention back to the newspaper; it was so much easier to focus on other people. He didn’t know why he still bought The Daily Reporter after the mauling he’d received last year; perhaps I’m a masochist, Jack thought as he turned the page and saw another large spread on the hit and run. All the other newspapers had turned their attention onto the problems in the Middle East. Jack knew why Mark Logan was still writing about it; he had the same interest in the family as Jack did; they both wanted to help a small Albanian boy who had watched his mother burning to death in front of him. He suddenly threw the paper away from him; this wasn’t helping him forget anything.

  ‘Checkmate, Gramps!’ Tom scooped up his grandfather’s queen and laughed at the astonished look on his face.

  ‘Well, I certainly didn’t see that coming. You’re almost playing as well as your mother did.’

  They smiled at Lucy; for a moment forgetting that she couldn’t smile back.

  Jack looked at the clock. ‘Well done, Tom. You’re getting very good. Think it’s time for bed.’

  Tom looked at him and started putting the chess pieces away slowly.

  ‘You heard your father, Tom,’ Colin said. ‘I’ll do that. Don’t forget to give your grandmother a kiss before you go up.’

  Tom immediately got up to kiss his mother and recited his usual mantra to her, then smiled at his grandfather. ‘Night, Gramps.’

  Jack tightened his stomach muscles, knowing what was coming. ‘Night, Tom.’

  ‘Night,’ he answered curtly as he brushed past his father without looking at him. He pushed open the kitchen door to say goodnight to his grandmother who was clearing up.

  ‘He’ll come round, Jack. I’m sure he will.’ For the first time, Colin looked at him with sympathy.

  Lucy’s eyes swiveled towards Jack and she started typing.

  He immediately felt sick, thinking what she was going to type, but got up and stood beside her and looked down at her lap-top and saw the words need to talk

  Five minutes later, Jack sat at his desk in the study watching Lucy laboriously typing; his heart thumping. He wanted to kneel in front of her and lay his head in her lap; he wanted her to stroke his hair as she used to when he was tired; he wanted her to stop typing.

  She suddenly stopped and looked at him. He got up slowly and leant beside her and read want u 2 do something important

  Jack closed his eyes; he didn’t want to read any more. A sound like a woodpecker filled the room. Lucy was tapping on her keyboard. He opened his eyes and continued reading find out who killed Cellini

  Jack smiled at her. She wasn’t asking him to kill her! ‘I’m working on it, Luc. You know that.’

  She looked down at her lap-top; she had written a lot more.

  find out why manager blackmailing the blonde/ find out if cellini involved with drugs

  Jack stared at her. ‘We don’t know if the manager was blackmailing her. This isn’t like you. You work with facts – I’m the one who works with hunches. What could he have on Angelica Logan?’ He had a sudden thought. ‘Unless he saw her with Cellini and put two and two together to make 46.’

  She typed think they had affair?

  ‘She was at his funeral, remember. Suggests an intimacy, doesn’t it? But if they were, they’d have met discreetly at Cellini’s apartment, surely, so how the hell would the manager have seen them together?’

  Her fingers were tapping the keys again. ‘You’ll wear yourself out, Luc. Stop typing.’

  another link somewhere got to find it for me and Tom

  ‘For Tom? Jack looked at her in surprise as she typed another sentence.

  wants 2 b proud of u

  ‘I know he’s embarrassed that I’m a chauffeur.’

  get back 2 yr real job and solve case

  Jack looked at her, knowing that she was right, but he couldn’t go back until he’d solved the case and he didn’t have enough evidence to prove anything. ‘I’m going to tail Angelica Logan tonight, Luc. Don’t wait up for me.’

  as if i would!

  Jack smiled at her.

  He’d been sitting, frozen outside the unlit Logan house for nearly two hours; no one had gone in or out during that time. He wondered what the hell he was doing, sitting in a freezing car in the dark, miles from home on the off-chance that he would see something that would help him solve Cellini’s murder. He didn’t know much about statistics but the odds were stacked sky high against him finding out anything tonight. He looked at his watch in the streetlight and thought he should push off home, even though he had no work in the morning. Mrs. M had given him time off for Christmas with full pay so long as he came to see her regularly with an update on what he had found. Jack smiled in the darkness. Mrs. M should have become a detective herself, instead of being an actress.

  Just as he was about to start his car, the road was suddenly illuminated by a car’s headlights. Jack ducked down as the lights swept over his car, then turned into the Logan drive and were extinguished.

  Within seconds, Jack was out of his car and creeping up the Logan’s S-shaped driveway, not noticing the moonlight illuminating the frosted scrubs and plants. He moved into the shadow of a beech tree and saw a black Lexus RX standing in front of the house with the car’s interior light on. There was only one occupant in it. As Jack saw who it was, the breath punched out of his lungs. Stella! What the hell was a prostitute doing sitting outside the Logan house? He watched her, confused by her actions: her hands scrubbed her face with something Jack couldn’t see. A pause, then suddenly her hand was on her hair – it came off! Jack drew in breath, realizing what was happening. Stella suddenly disappeared deep in the car and Jack stood on tiptoe in a vain attempt to see what she was doing. A dog barked in the distance and he jumped. The click of a car door. It opened and there in the moonlight stood a different woman: an elegant woman, wearing a dark coat. She walked towards the front door And a light came on. A stone slipped under Jack’s foot and he held his breath as her head tilted towards him; ash-blonde hair shimmering like shot silk, translucent skin lit by an inner light. And from the s
hadows, Jack experienced the awe he felt when looking at a da Vinci Madonna: Stella had metamorphosed into the beautiful blonde at Saul’s funeral.

  CHAPTER 27

  13th September 2011

  Every night Angelica’s sleep was punctured by Paolo’s last words to her: if only you didn’t look so pure; if only you didn’t look so pure… The words echoed in her head as she tossed and turned in bed. After four weeks, the desire to see him was too strong; she found herself standing again outside his apartment waiting for him to open the door. Again, he opened it immediately as if he had been waiting for her knock for four weeks.

  ‘Angelica – bella come un angelo,’ was all he said as she walked past him into his lounge and sat down.

  He sat down beside her and smiled at her. ‘I have never waited so long for a woman before.’

  ‘But I’m not just any woman.’

  ‘I know that; that’s why I waited.’ He stared at her with the same intensity as he had on the first night they had met.

  ‘What did you mean when I came last time?’

  Paolo could have pretended he didn’t understand her question, but he had been waiting for her to ask him for four weeks; he couldn’t wait any longer.

  ‘If you didn’t look so pure, I would carry you into my bedroom and we would have enjoyed each other’s bodies for hours and hours.’ He lifted a finger to her face and traced its perfect outline. ‘But I can’t. I can’t make love with a Madonna.’

  Angelica felt her heart racing; she had never wanted a man so much before, but she didn’t want to make love, she wanted sex and every part of her was determined to have this beautiful man.

  ‘Where’s your bathroom?’ she asked.

  Paolo looked at her in surprise. ‘Through there.’ He pointed to the bedroom she had entered earlier; the room with a secret vault in it.

  ‘I’ll be some time. I don’t like to hurry.’ Angelica walked towards it, knowing that his eyes were following her every movement.

  Paolo’s bathroom was as elegant as the rest of his apartment. Normally, Angelica would have feasted her eyes on the blue Italian tiles covering the walls and the colorful antique Oushak rug half-covering the marbled floor, but tonight, she was too aroused to notice the elegance; she wanted sex and she knew how to make Paolo as aroused as she was. She opened her bag and brought out her outfit and laid it out on the large chaise longue which stood near the bath. She took off her elegant dress and silk underwear and stood naked in front of the ornate Italian mirror over the enormous sink. The under-floor heating was perfect for nakedness. She took her theatrical make-up kit out of her bag and set to work on her transformation; anyone could make themselves look like a tart; but there was an art to looking like a high-class hooker and Angelica had perfected it. She applied dark foundation to her face which transformed her perfect porcelain skin to one of a dusky tone which suited her outfit. Then she concentrated on her eyes, outlining them with kohl to make them dramatic and applied black mascara to her blonde eyelashes. The finishing touch was the application of red glossy lipstick which always made her lips look wet and inviting. She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled; she was almost ready. She reached over for her tight red basque and put it on. Next she slid on her black fishnet stockings and attached them to the basque. Then she reached into her bag for her brassy blonde wig; her hair was too pure for the outfit. Only her red five-inch high-heeled shoes to put on and she was ready. The transformation had taken her a quarter of an hour. But Paolo was very special, Stella thought as she tottered out, longing to see his reaction.

  Paolo was lying on the settee listening to Bach when she walked in. He shot upright in amazement. ‘Come è possibile? Angelica?’

  ‘Who’s Angelica, love? I’m Stella. Yours for the night. Cut the music. It’s all wrong for what we’re gonna do.’

  Paolo was lying naked on the bed with his hands and legs tied to the bed posts. His heart was racing and a light sheen of sweat covered the whole of his body as Stella massaged him; she always finished in his groin and his penis was so engorged with blood that he thought it might explode; he was quivering with sexual excitement and still she was making him wait; he didn’t know whether it was pleasure or pain. It was the most exciting massage he’d ever had in his life, but he didn’t know how much longer he could wait before coming.

  ‘Please, please…’ he kept whispering. Suddenly she started sliding her naked body up and down his body rhythmically.

  Stella kept whispering. ‘Hold on a little longer.’

  He could hear someone moaning from a long way away and suddenly realized it was him. Then just as he thought his heart couldn’t take any more she thrust her vagina down hard onto his penis. He screamed as he climaxed. He couldn’t wait any longer.

  She handed him some tissues like a pro and said, ‘You’ll get better at waiting, love. I promise.’ And he had. They’d had sex three times with him tied up and each time she managed to delay his climax longer and longer as he rode wave after wave of ecstasy. Then he tied her up and licked her until she was screaming for him to enter her but he wouldn’t. He kept her waiting and waiting as she writhed around the bed, until at last he thrust himself deep inside her and they climaxed noisily together; it was the most exciting sex Paolo had ever had and he’d had a lot. Eventually, after two hours, he was too exhausted to continue and fell into a deep sleep.

  When he woke, she was gone. He stretched out on the bed and smiled; at last he had found his perfect partner.

  CHAPTER 28

  6th December 2012

  Rico stood in a dark alleyway, hunched up in his heavy overcoat stamping his feet against the cold. He must have been insane becoming involved with drugs. He’d lived in fear from the moment Cellini had told him how much money he could make it if he helped him with one special assignment. The one assignment had become many. He should have told him to fuck off. But how could he? Cellini was his boss; he had numerous methods designed to make people’s lives very difficult if they didn’t agree with him. His religious parents would die of shame if they discovered what he was mixed up with and for the first time since he had left the Philippines, Rico was glad that they were a long way ago. They’d never know where his money came from and now his parents and sisters had clothes to wear and food to eat. If he had to rely on what Cellini paid him at the club, he’d have nothing left to send them each month. He felt tremendous guilt about what he was doing, but what man wouldn’t help his family if they were hungry? So far, it hadn’t been dangerous, but Rico knew it could become violent at any moment. He didn’t like violence, although everyone told him he looked as if he was born to commit it. If only he could find a way to send money to his family without being involved with drugs, but it was impossible.

  He pulled his collar up around his ears as an icy wind whipped through the alleyway and glanced at his watch; the luminous dials shone into the dark. 11 p.m. The man was late. Rico swore softly. Suddenly he saw his small squat shape hurrying towards him. He didn’t even know his name.

  ‘It’s arrived. Pick it up from the gallery tomorrow morning Capote says and bring the stuff to the warehouse tomorrow night at 10 p.m.’ He spoke fast as if words were in short supply.

  ‘I work nights, remember? I can’t leave the club early again. I don’t finish work until 3 a.m.’

  ‘Like I said. Capote expects you at 10 p.m. at the warehouse. And he don’t like waiting. Remember that.’ With that curt warning, the squat man weaved away without another word.

  Rico wanted to run after him and scream at him. Why should I take all the risks you fucking messenger boy? But he did nothing; he stood watching the man’s squat figure disappear around the corner. Rico hurried up the alley, anger spreading around his body at the hopelessness of his life. Then just as he reached the end of it he saw a large black car speeding down the crowded road. Rico watched in horror as a small boy ran from behind a coach across the road in front of the car. He wanted to shout a warning, but couldn’t open his mouth. E
veryone else seemed too busy to notice what was happening. Then just as Rico found the power of speech, the car smashed into the boy’s body. Rico watched in slow motion as the car-driver’s mouth opened in a silent scream. He waited for her to get out of her car and go to the boy, but she didn’t move. At the back of his mind, Rico registered the first three letters of the registration – ACC – before time suddenly speeded up and her car shot off down the road before anyone else seemed aware of what had happened. Rico was shaken; he wanted to run over to help the boy, but how could he become involved? He couldn’t be a witness. As a crowd of shocked passers-by suddenly gathered around the boy’s body, Rico hurried away from the horrific scene he had just witnessed, but he knew, even as he hurried away from it, he would never escape it; the memory would be replayed over and over in his head for years to come. He couldn’t have done anything to protect the boy, but there was something he could do: find the bitch who’d hit him and blackmail her. Rico suddenly smiled; he had found a way out.

  CHAPTER 29

  19th December 2012

  The next morning after Lucy’s parents had taken Tom shopping to buy Christmas presents, Jack had told Lucy the incredible news about Angelica Logan. They had spent the morning on the computer in the study writing down all the information they had found, but even with two sharp brains on the case, neither of them could find a definite link between Cellini’s affair and his death.

  ‘Why would you want someone dead if you were having an affair with them, Luc?’

  He watched her typing for some time then read

  perhaps he was tired of her and blackmailing her too

  ‘But why would he be tired of a beautiful woman who could transform herself into a sexy hooker? That’s every man’s fantasy,’ Jack said without thinking; then cursed himself as her eyes filled with tears.

  He was on his knees in front of her kissing her eyes. ‘Not me, Luc. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman.’