As it turned out, getting Kristine on to the subject of Elisabetta was much easier than I’d expected. As I stood in the short queue of models waiting to show their portfolios the talk turned to Elisabetta. Word was out about her death and in fact, it was all everybody seemed to be talking about.
When the model in front of me wondered aloud what had happened to Elisabetta, a shocked conversation followed, and I waited for my moment.
“There’s a terrible rumour going around that she’d been poisoned,” I said. Everyone looked at me, and I could feel a collective intake of breath. “They say it happened last night,” I continued, “but she didn’t fall ill until this morning.”
Kristine’s colourfully dressed assistant, Marco, turned to her. “You were with Elisabetta last night, weren’t you, at Ugo Anbessa’s?”
“That’s where they say she was poisoned,” I added.
Kristine’s eyes widened. Now everyone was watching her. She took her time to answer. “Yes, I was at Ugo’s, and, yes, I’ve heard the same rumours…how come you know so much, Axelle?”
I bowed my head a little, hoping only Kristine would hear. “I was working with Elisabetta this morning – when she…she…” I couldn’t bring myself to be more precise – because suddenly everyone was staring at me. I wasn’t sure what the police would think about me telling people what I’d seen – but they hadn’t said anything about not discussing it. Besides, my experience was mine to share, wasn’t it?
Gasps of “You saw her die?” echoed around the room.
Kristine got up. “I’m going to take five, Marco,” she said as she turned to her assistant, “would you continue, please? I need to talk to Axelle.”
She motioned for me to follow her out of the room and into the corridor. We walked the short distance to the large staircase that swept up from the ground level. On the wide landing at the top of the stairs was a sofa, a couple of armchairs, and, conveniently, a water machine. As if on autopilot Kristine filled a couple of water glasses for us and sat down on the sofa, bidding me to do the same. I discreetly turned on my phone recorder before taking a seat next to her.
“Sorry to drag you out of there like that,” sighed Kristine, “but I’m desperate to talk to someone about it all. I still can’t believe Elisabetta’s gone… And I can’t believe you actually saw it happen! That must have been awful! And what about the others at the studio? They must have all flipped out…”
“It was horrible…” I admitted.
“So, because you witnessed the death, you’ve also been questioned by the police, right?”
I nodded.
“Good. I thought that might be the case. So I’m not saying anything I shouldn’t. You know, there are lots of rumours going around already…”
I nodded. “Apparently, some people think she may have even eaten poison on purpose…” I said, pushing for information. “Do you think that’s a possibility?”
Kristine shook her head. “The police asked me the same thing, but no. I’ve known her for years; there’s no way Elisabetta was depressed. On the contrary – she was full of life. I always thought of her as a warm smile on high heels. She’d had a rough time over the spring, but I never heard her complain.”
“What happened?” I asked carefully.
Kristine sighed again. “She was mugged last winter, then her apartment was broken into and…I’m not sure I should tell you this, but she did have money troubles, too. She’d mentioned it to me during Fashion Week in New York. She’d had a bit of wine with dinner and it just came out. Not that she told me any details…”
Hmm… “Well, if she didn’t eat the poison herself, do you think someone gave it to her deliberately?”
Kristine looked at me, her eyes huge and uneasy. “You’re sounding like the police all over again. But like I told them, no way. I mean, that implies murder…”
I looked down the stairs as I answered, avoiding direct eye contact. I didn’t want her to feel that I was hanging on her every word. “It’s only a theory.” I shrugged my shoulders and left it at that.
“Well, it’s a ghoulish one,” she said. “I feel badly for Ugo, though – the police think the poison came from that plant he has on his terrace, the monkshood. I suppose she could have touched it or something…but I didn’t see her stand anywhere near the plant all night.”
“How deadly is it?” I asked, playing dumb.
“Very,” Kristine assured me. “It can kill anyone, but I’m more at risk than most – I have a sensitivity condition that makes me lethally allergic to that family of plants. That’s how I know so much about it. At least the police have crossed me off their list of suspects – the process of getting the poison would have killed me, even if I’d been wearing gloves.” She gave a weary smile. “We all knew Ugo had monkshood growing on his terrace, though. I bet if it does turn out that plant provided the poison, the police will label him their main suspect.”
Perfect, I thought, Kristine was giving me just the lead in I needed. “Yeah, but a person needs a strong motive to want to hurt someone that way. Did Ugo, or anyone else at his party, have a grudge against Elisabetta?”
“Not that I know of…but I mean, this is the fashion world, right?”
“So?”
“So there’s no shortage of rivalry. Ginevra Mucci and Elisabetta, for instance, had a well-known, ongoing feud. And then, actually, there’s Ugo, too. I mean, as far as I know – and I’ve known Ugo for ages – he doesn’t have a grudge against Elisabetta. They are best friends. But they had some kind of argument last night and it got quite noisy – or at least Ugo did.”
“Really?” Ugo hadn’t mentioned a fight to me. “What was it about?” I asked. “And when did it happen?”
“Not too long after we arrived at Ugo’s. I didn’t notice Ugo and Elisabetta move away until I heard voices coming from another room through an open window. Ginevra and I were talking on the terrace when we heard them, but it stopped quite quickly.”
“Did you hear what they were saying?”
“I have no idea what they were arguing about but we could hear Ugo saying, ‘Don’t do it!’ He sounded almost menacing, actually, and very worked up. At one point I heard Elisabetta say, ‘I have to.’ But that was all I could make out.”
“And then what?”
“Ugo and Elisabetta joined us on the terrace, looking as if nothing had happened. They are such old friends that I think everyone assumed it couldn’t be serious – you know how old friends are sometimes… Anyway, I remember one of the others joked about the shouting but Elisabetta said that Ugo was only looking out for her and left it at that.” Kristine was quiet for a moment before suddenly adding, “Alessandro was upset, I think. He went close to the window when he heard them arguing, as if he wasn’t sure whether to interrupt them and stop the row.”
“And did he interrupt them?”
Kristine shook her head. “No. He just listened. I understood from little comments he’s made that he’s jealous of Ugo and Elisabetta’s friendship – the one they had, I mean.”
“Alessandro was jealous?”
Kristine stood back up and ran her hands over her head. “Yes. Alessandro Matteo and Elisabetta were seeing each other, you know. And he’d become quite possessive recently – always wanting to know what she was up to and who she was seeing. In fact, Elisabetta told me about a month ago that it really bothered her the way Alessandro was always following her around and asking about everything she did.”
Again I wondered why Ugo hadn’t mentioned their relationship even though Francesca had.
“I’ve never seen Alessandro so taken with a girlfriend,” Kristine continued.
“Will he be coming here for the casting?” I asked.
Fortunately Kristine was too busy with her own thoughts to find my question odd. Without hesitation she answered
, “Yes. He should be here at any moment.”
Perfect, I thought.
Kristine suddenly stood up, distracting me from my thoughts. “Listen, Axelle, I’m sorry I’ve talked your ear off, but, apart from the interview with the police, I’ve been bottling this up inside me all day.” She stopped and looked at me. “This whole thing is so, so sad. Anyway, thanks, Axelle, for talking…” She stifled a sudden sob, blew her nose and continued, “Time to get back to work, now.” She took a deep breath and we headed back towards the casting room. While we walked the talk turned back to modelling. “By the way, I have to admit, I’m not sure you’re right for this show, but you are on option for the Lei-Lei show on Friday. Lei-Lei love you, so they should confirm tomorrow. But show us your walk here anyway. You never know, you might be suitable for Fiore next season.”
I walked (in my own clothes) up and down the length of the room for Kristine and the team. Then I went to the impromptu photo set where an assistant was taking a quick photo of each model at the casting. The photos would be used as memory aids by Kristine and her team; they’d be printed immediately via Bluetooth and then pinned on the casting board where everyone could see them. While I waited in a short queue for the photo, I took out my phone and looked up Alessandro online.
Alessandro was Italian, slim, blue-eyed and boyish, with long, dark-blond hair. There were many images of him working for various magazines and catalogues, although, from what I read it seemed he was attempting to phase out of modelling and into acting.
Finally it was my turn to be photographed. It was literally one snap and then, as I walked off set, Alessandro walked in. Perfect timing!
He looked incredibly distraught, but he was a well-known face and a murmur of recognition rippled through the room as he waved at Kristine and headed towards the casting board. While he perused the photos pinned to the board I walked up and introduced myself.
“I’m really, really sorry about Elisabetta, Alessandro. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t for the fact that I was at Megastudio this morning. I was…I was the last person to see her alive…”
His blue eyes widened as he looked at me. “Oh my God.” He took hold of my hand and led me to a quiet corner of the room. “So you saw her just before…” He stopped and took a long, slow breath. “Did she say anything? Did Elisabetta mention me?” He continued to hold my wrist as he spoke. He looked intense, his voice soft, with a lilting Italian accent.
I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. She’d said she was feeling ill, but we were talking about the shoot and then she gave a kind of cough and just stopped breathing – I didn’t realize what had happened at first.”
Alessandro suddenly dropped my wrist and leaned back against the wall. “I still can’t believe it. We hadn’t been together for long, but already she was a huge part of my life. She was a very special person. Everyone loved her…”
“So I’ve heard.”
After a moment he asked, “Did she by any chance mention her plans for tonight?”
His question took me by surprise. “That’s funny,” I said. “I was about to ask you if you knew about her plans for tonight…”
“Ah! So she did say something. Can you tell me what?” He was looking intently at me. Kristine’s comment about Alessandro being possessive of Elisabetta came to mind.
“She only mentioned that she had something important to do…”
“That’s it?”
I nodded. “I thought you might know more; it might be helpful for the police to know where she was going.”
“Yeah, well they’ve already asked me questions. And I have no idea what important thing she had planned.” I saw his fists clench. “She could be secretive, you know. Anyway…” He didn’t say more.
“By the way,” I quickly asked, “did you hear the argument between Elisabetta and Ugo last night? At his after-party?”
“Yes, I did. We probably all did. Ugo was always interfering in Elisabetta’s life. Anyway, how do you know about it?”
“One of the other guests mentioned it.” He was restless now and keen to go. Much as I wanted to question him further, I couldn’t keep him any longer without raising his suspicion. Hopefully I could find out more about him from other sources. At that moment my phone buzzed. It was a message from Ellie; her fitting had ended. As I put my phone away a Fiore showroom assistant suddenly motioned for Alessandro to follow her, but before leaving he leaned close to me. “Listen, Axelle, if you happen to hear anything more about Elisabetta or what she’d been planning on doing, would you call me?” He quickly dug into his rucksack and pulled out a card with his name and number on it. “I really loved her. I’d appreciate hearing any last memories she may have shared.” I watched him as he walked away. His words, I thought, sounded loving, but did his intentions match? Hmm…
I slowly turned, waved to Kristine, and left.
Ellie was waiting for me on the landing where I’d sat with Kristine earlier. “So did you hear anything?” I asked her as we walked down the smooth stone steps.
“Yes, lots actually. Everyone’s talking about it. They’re saying she was poisoned. Is that true?”
I nodded. “It seems so. At least that’s the theory the police are working on. All her symptoms point to it.”
“How horrible,” Ellie whispered. “And have you found out anything else?”
“Yes.” I nodded slowly as I sifted through the information Kristine and Alessandro had shared. Some of the things Ugo had told me – like the fact that Elisabetta hadn’t been near the plant – were confirmed by Kristine. But Ugo had neglected to tell me about his argument with Elisabetta. This revelation threw a different – more suspicious – light on Ugo. After all, if he was as innocent as he claimed, why not tell me about their row? Maybe he thought no one else had heard it? Regardless, he was still withholding information – and that always smells fishy. But surely the police would have found out about it from Kristine and Alessandro? And they’d mention it to Ugo sooner or later…I’d have to have a word with him.
But first, dinner – Italian style. I was starving. Besides there was something in particular that I really wanted to try…
Sebastian and I chose a tiny neighbourhood dive to eat at. It was just around the corner from the Fiore offices and although Ellie had a glamorous fashion party to go to – something Dolce & Gabbana was throwing – she had just enough time to have a quick bite with us before going back to our flat to change. She slid into a chair opposite me at our small table. “I want to know everything,” she said. “The D&G party can wait.”
As I looked at the blackboard menu of the day the one dish I’d been hoping to find leaped out at me: bruschetta with tomatoes and basil.
“You really want to eat that? From the little you’ve told us, I’m not sure I can stomach it at the moment,” Ellie said as her lips formed a nervous smile. “Besides, the bread won’t be gluten free, so I really can’t stomach it.” I could see she was relieved to have an excuse.
We ordered and then didn’t waste any time in diving right into talk about the new case. I started by quickly going over the basics of what Ugo had told me.
“And do you believe him?” Sebastian asked.
I nodded. “I think I do,” I said slowly. “But I also have the feeling that he’s holding something back – maybe it’s to do with the argument? Whatever it’s about, though, it kind of fits with the fact that he even called me in the first place.”
“How do you mean?” Ellie asked.
“Well, he’s a suspect, of course, but beyond that, he’s already convinced that Elisabetta’s death is due to foul play – granted that’s a theory the police seem to agree with – but, still, he seems so sure about it that it’s almost as if he knows something he’s not telling anyone.”
“Like a reason someone would want to poison her?”
“Yea
h, something like that. Only time will tell. But if he’s asked me to look into it then he must believe that there’s something suspicious about her death…maybe something he doesn’t think the police will pick up on. Anyway, what I find interesting is that neither Ugo nor Kristine believe Elisabetta would have intentionally killed herself. And they both say she never went near the plant on Ugo’s terrace.”
“Which brings us back to the theory that she was intentionally poisoned,” Ellie said.
I nodded. “At the moment, the police think she was poisoned last night at around midnight, at Ugo’s house.” The bruschetta arrived just as I finished speaking.
“Perfect timing,” Sebastian smiled.
The bruschetta was tangy and sweet with a nice toasty crunch. The mixture of garlic, olive oil, tomato, basil and thick home-made bread was a good one and I could see why it worked as a snack – the dry bread kept your fingers clean and the slices could be cut to bite-size. Furthermore, as far as foods to hide poison in go, you could do much worse than bruschetta. Ugo was right about the garlic – it would take a strong flavour to override the taste.
“So who could have poisoned her?” Ellie asked.
I pulled out the list Ugo had given me from my rucksack and pushed it across the table towards Ellie and Sebastian. “These are the names of all the people who were at Ugo’s party last night. However,” I said as I opened my notebook to the second, shorter, list I’d also written earlier, “these are the names I think we should concentrate on first, because these people stayed on after the food had been brought out.” We studied the shortlist carefully.
Ugo Anbessa
Francesca Ventini
(Kristine Abrams)
Alessandro Matteo
Ginevra Mucci
“Why are there brackets around Kristine?” Sebastian asked.
“Because she has a condition that makes her lethally allergic to monkshood. Apparently, if she’d given any to Elisabetta she’d have died while handling it – even with gloves on. And, in any case, Ugo didn’t see anyone wearing gloves. Also, I’ve dropped Ugo’s housekeeper Maria from this list, even though she stayed late, because my gut tells me she’s not the one – at least for now.”
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