Model Under Cover--Dressed to Kill

by Carina Axelsson

  Francesca grabbed the weighty lid and held it above my face. Her smile vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared and, with a huge storm cloud behind her, she looked like vengeance and madness personified. “You never should have interfered! This is a family matter – do you understand! This is a Ventini matter. You and that nasty little snake Elisabetta have nothing to do with my family! You’re going to wish that you’d stayed underground where I left you!” I watched, helpless, as her face convulsed with hatred. “It’s your own fault, you know. I had to lock you away. You were the one who insisted on following me over the Duomo rooftop. I could see you wouldn’t let things go, so drastic measures were called for!” Then she laughed, tightened her grip on my throat and added, “This time I’m not going to let you go – alive!” Lightning cracked as she brought the lid down in one swift movement, aiming at my head. I tried my best to twist away from her falling arm. I managed to deflect the blow somewhat but it wasn’t enough, and I felt a searing pain as it struck just above my right ear.

  I saw Francesca raise her arm again, and this time I screamed, knowing that another blow was coming. But it never landed. Francesca was suddenly yanked backwards and the next thing I heard was a dull crash followed by a vigorous scuffle. I brought my hand to my head and rolled onto my side. From there I slowly managed to pull myself into an upright position.

  Sebastian was sitting on Francesca, his hands encircling her wrists. Ellie meanwhile was making neat work of tying Francesca up with the rope. She was still fighting them – she was very strong, as I knew to my cost – and the struggle continued for another minute until finally, Ellie and Sebastian had her secure. While Ellie kept an eye on her, Sebastian called the police.

  I watched as Francesca rolled onto her back and looked for me. Our eyes met, hers fierce and defiant. It was time to get some answers out of her. She started yelling as I tried to stand. She wriggled and screamed, her words coming out in a crazed jumble. She hollered about being Falco’s true heir, how she should have inherited everything, and that Elisabetta was nothing but a gold-digging hanger-on, an interloper who didn’t know her place. She was a Ventini, she screamed, and she had a right to be here – the jewels belonged to her (she seemed to have forgotten that they’d been stolen in the first place).

  Clutching my head I walked towards her. As calmly as I could I asked, “Why? Why did you need to kill Elisabetta?”

  “Because she was a nasty little worm who crawled into my uncle’s heart when she had no right to be there. And she knew too much – stuff I should have known!”

  “Like about the gems?”

  “Yes! I’d heard the rumours of my uncle switching the stones; I knew he was trying to get some money together – and the jewels were as good as cash in the bank. And I should have inherited them! Yet he wanted to leave them to that ingratiating little maggot!”

  I’d discovered enough to know that it wasn’t quite like that. My grandmother’s words came back to me – clean conscience. I thought about Tavi’s twice-yearly visits to Milan, too. I’d put the pieces of the puzzle together and they told a very different story from the one Francesca believed. But I couldn’t explain it all to her now. First I wanted to verify another of my theories…

  “He’d already given me his precious collection of tarocchi, but I’d noticed there were three cards missing – the three most valuable cards in his – my – collection. I watched him give them to her on his deathbed and I was furious. He was so drugged at that point that he had no idea I was still in his hospital room – that I’d stayed on, hidden, after I’d said goodbye. I was certain that nasty little snake would come by – and she did! She was so boringly predictable. Every day at the same time – honestly, why wouldn’t I take the chance to overhear them? Those cards he gave her were worth so much more than any of the tarocchi my uncle left to me – and not just because they were antique! No, these cards were much more special – these tarot cards led the way to the jewels.”

  “But you didn’t hear how they led to the jewels, did you? That part was left unsaid…”

  Francesca shook her head angrily. “No – no! It wasn’t left unsaid. Uncle Falco told her! I couldn’t hear because he was whispering, but I understood that the cards were the clues! It was all I needed to know.”

  “So you decided to get the cards, didn’t you? In order to find the jewels?”

  She wriggled in grotesque excitement as she ranted. “Yes, yes! I wanted the jewels – they were rightfully mine. But so were the cards. I had to get them back!”

  “So you mugged Elisabetta and burgled her apartment to find them?”

  “Yes – but the snake was careful – she’d hidden them somewhere safe.”

  “And that’s why you planned to kill her, isn’t it?”

  “I was only taking back what was mine.”

  “You knew she had a brother – you’d probably overheard that, too, right? And you knew he was a serious drug user, you knew he’d sell whatever he had to feed his habit. And, most importantly, you knew that he was Elisabetta’s only living relative, didn’t you?”

  Francesca nodded. “Yes, I knew all of that. We talked sometimes, you know – especially in the beginning. At the end she didn’t seem to like me so much. But before she changed towards me I heard all about her boohoo family life.”

  “And you figured that if you killed her, her brother would inherit everything she had, and you’d approach him with a generous offer for the cards, assuming he didn’t know their true worth.”

  “Yes, it was a good plan. And airtight – until you got in the way!”

  “It was silly to poison her at Ugo’s though, wasn’t it, with so many witnesses around?” I taunted her.

  “No one noticed. It was easy. I used the shawl I was wearing to protect my fingers, tore a leaf off the shrub, then ripped it into tiny bits and sprinkled it over the bruschetta. The stupid worm ate the piece I offered her.”

  Even if everything she said confirmed what I had suspected, I still felt shocked and horrified to hear how fervently she believed in her twisted truth. She was vicious and calculating, not to mention unhinged – she had killed someone in cold blood. Instinctively I moved away from her. I was tired, and talking to her wasn’t exactly easy-going. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself – she ranted on, now calling me a liar for masking the truth about my visits to Ugo. “A ‘fashion project’? You liar – and you, too!” she spat at Sebastian. “You idiots never even realized I was onto you! You never even noticed me following you to Professor Greene’s! I started out following Ugo, and then ended up following you.”

  So that’s how she knew I had the cards. She was right, we should have spotted her. But I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of telling her that. I was suddenly curious, however, as to how she knew that the tarot cards had gone missing from the studio. How had she known that Elisabetta had taken them there on Tuesday morning?

  She threw her head back and laughed when I asked. “It was a guess. I’d been following her a lot since my unsuccessful burglary and mugging, hoping to find the cards by chance, hoping she’d give me a clue as to where she kept them – and she did. The stupid little maggot finally did!” Francesca became very animated as she related her story. “Tuesday morning,” she hissed, “outside her flat, I watched her as she waited for her taxi, and saw how she pulled a grey envelope out from under her top and quickly put it into her basket. It was the same size as the cards and from the way she was glancing around, looking so nervous, I knew it must be something important and valuable. It had to be the cards! I followed her to the studio, so I knew she didn’t stop off anywhere on the way there. Then, later that day, after she’d died…” Francesca stopped to smile. “I wondered what had become of them. Surely they were still in her basket? Of course, I flirted with the police officer who questioned me that afternoon. And the idiot conveniently left his file open on the table.
I saw the list they had made of the contents of her basket – and there was no envelope listed! It gave me a real fright!”

  “So you called Megastudio and asked them about it?”

  “Of course,” she spat. “I had to get those cards. But the studio knew nothing. Luck smiled on me later that day, though, when you two idiots suddenly showed up at Ugo’s. After you started asking me so many questions about the party, I had the feeling you knew more – much more – than you were letting on. Anyway, like I said, you finally gave yourselves away by going to Professor Greene’s.”

  The surprise of seeing Francesca, and witnessing her viciousness, had left Sebastian and Ellie speechless. Sebastian was staring at her in disbelief. She smiled back with mock flirtation, batting her eyelashes.

  Suddenly something sparkly that I’d completely forgotten about caught my eye. The gems! The bag of stones had landed under a small bush, when Francesca had leaped onto me from the boulder. I retrieved it now and as I lifted it, hundreds of loose gemstones rattled inside. Some were small, others large, and they were of every colour. And seen up close like this, even through the dirty plastic of their bag, they sparkled and danced in the light.

  The police would be surprised, I thought – it wasn’t every day a large bagful of gems was found in a cemetery. But before the police could respond to Sebastian’s call, someone else arrived – the old man at the front office came running to us with security. He’d been making his final round of the cemetery, letting people know it was time to leave, when he’d heard my whistle. Then, a few seconds later, he’d seen Ellie and Sebastian running in this direction. He’d immediately called for help from his walkie-talkie.

  I thanked him and together with the two guards we walked Francesca back to the Temple of Fame. I walked slowly, leaning on Sebastian.

  “You’re bleeding. You’ll have to get your head checked, you know,” he said. “And maybe your ankle, too.”

  “That’s the least of my worries,” I said. “What am I going to tell my mum? She’ll be furious!”

  “You can tell her an antique sculpture fell on you while you were getting your daily dose of Italian culture,” Sebastian laughed.

  “Actually, Watson, that’s not a bad idea.”

  The police picked us all up from the cemetery entrance and drove us to the main station for questioning. I called Ugo from there and he came straight to the station. He spoke to the police and took full responsibility for having placed me in such a dangerous situation. Later on Lucas also came in for questioning. He’d had his appointment with the second anonymous caller at 9 p.m. Alessandro had shown up just as I’d expected, but because I hadn’t made it, Lucas had let him go, saying he’d sold the cards to the collector anyway.

  My guess was that Alessandro had become overly clingy and nosy about Elisabetta’s whereabouts because he, too, was after the jewels. He would have been aware of the rumour and probably asked Elisabetta about it. She, in turn, may have let something slip about the tarot cards and jewels – and Alessandro, whose modelling career, and consequently his earnings, had taken a nosedive since he’d started trying to act, was desperate to take the jewels for himself. The police were out looking for him now. And although Lucas didn’t say anything I could tell he was dying to hear the full story.

  I was most thankful, however, for the fact that my mum was somewhere in the air and had her phone switched off. The last thing I needed was for her to hear about everything, now, from the police, and then let it stew for the next few hours while she travelled. Otherwise, by the time she arrived in Milan she’d be a ball of fire, waiting to burn me to a crisp. Instead, now, I could tell her when she arrived, and could hope that the timing would work in my favour. With some luck the late hour might blunt the force of the surprise.

  I had to go over my story again and again. The police weren’t exactly neglecting Elisabetta’s case, but they’d pushed it to one side while they waited for conclusive test results. So I’d beaten them to the punch, so to speak. And while they didn’t seem angry about that, they did need to verify my facts before everything went public.

  Not that my name would be dragged into it all. I made sure of that. The last thing I needed was the added publicity of a high-profile fashion mystery.

  “But you’ve done a wonderful thing,” the police chief said. “Are you sure you don’t want the recognition you deserve?” He peered down at me as I sat in his office, a doctor administering to the cut on my head. Happily, it didn’t need even one stitch – although I’d probably be left with a small scar at my hairline.

  I looked at the police chief as I swallowed the tablet the doctor handed me and shook my head. After setting the glass down I assured him that the last thing I wanted was to draw any attention to what I’d done. I didn’t give him my real reason – the need to remain undercover. I simply told him I wasn’t sure it would be good for my modelling career and that I wanted to finish my holiday here with my mother without being hassled by people who’d seen the story in the media. He bought my reasoning without any further explanation.

  Francesca, meanwhile, was handcuffed and dragged away – and I do mean dragged. She put up a fight the whole way, screeching like a crazed spirit. Her greed and sense of entitlement knew no bounds.

  Finally, the police finished questioning me (for the time being, anyway) and my colour returned – not to mention my appetite – but I still had a couple of hours before my mum landed. Ugo suggested that we all go back to his place. Maria could make us something to eat and he’d have his driver take Ellie and me back to our flat afterwards. He’d only heard snippets of my story and was eager to know everything, and, besides, my mind was still whirring. It would probably calm me to tell the full story. So together with Ellie and Sebastian I piled into Ugo’s waiting car and we left.

  “I never would have guessed it was Francesca,” Ugo started as soon as he’d settled us in his comfortable sitting room. “And to think I’ve had her working so close to me all this time. How did you know?”

  “I had no way of knowing for certain,” I answered, “but in the end, everything pointed to her. The tricky thing about this case for me was that there seemed to be two separate strands, and for a long time I couldn’t see how they were connected – and yet it was only by connecting them that I could make sense of everything that had happened. I made the biggest leap when I spoke with Tavi Holt. Only then did I have definite reason to think that Elisabetta knew something that was worth killing for – as Falco’s best friend it was likely she knew about the gems and where he’d hidden them. Although if Falco hadn’t fallen ill so quickly after switching the gems I don’t know if Elisabetta ever would have found out about them. But because he went to the hospital without having sold the gems, and then stayed there until it was clear he’d never leave, it seemed logical to me that he’d have told his closest friend, Elisabetta, about the gems while he was there.”

  “Is that why you asked me about everyone’s visiting times?” Ugo said.

  I nodded. “Although when we spoke I hadn’t yet made that connection. I was just curious to account for everyone in the days leading up to Ugo’s death. But once it struck me that he would have wanted to clear his conscience before he died, I thought about those times again. Because Falco had no other option but to make his last wishes known from his hospital bed…”

  “So?” Ellie asked.

  “So I started to think that someone must have overheard him.”

  “That’s why you asked me about the size of his hospital room!” Ugo added as the penny dropped.

  I nodded. “I had to know that it was large enough for someone to easily hide in. And then I thought about the log-out times again. Ugo, can you hand me the logbooks, please?”

  I set the open book down in the middle of the table. “Ugo, you told me that Elisabetta went to visit Falco at the hospital at 6 p.m. every day straight after she
left Ventini – and the logbooks confirmed that.”

  “Okay…so?”

  “And you also told me that, four days before Falco died, you were all told that he probably had only a few days left…”

  “Sì. Correct.”

  “But up to that point there had been a chance that Falco might recover and leave the hospital, right?”

  “Slim, but yes.”

  “So when he realized that he’d never leave the hospital, he had no option but to quickly tell Elisabetta about the gems, and how he had hidden them. Fine – right up to the end she left Ventini as usual at 6 p.m. But, interestingly, for those last four days, Francesca, who normally went to the hospital straight after work at 7 p.m., suddenly started leaving the office before Elisabetta. She told me at the cemetery that Falco had already given her his tarot collection and she’d noticed that those three antique tarot cards were missing and she saw those tarot cards as being rightfully hers. So she jumped to the conclusion, knowing that Falco had nothing else to give, because of his financial circumstances, that he was going to leave these three cards to Elisabetta as a parting gift.

  “So, knowing that Elisabetta’s visits were always at the same time, and, crucially, that Falco only had a few days to make his last wishes known, she simply left work before Elisabetta, hid in the hospital room, and overheard their last conversations. And, while she’d expected to hear him give her the three antique tarocchi, there was a twist to the gift that she hadn’t expected: the cards also led to the hidden gems. From that moment on she was desperate to get her hands on them.”