by Noni Calbane
Luca looked away from her. “If you don’t mind Carmina, I’d rather not talk about this anymore. She’s gone now and …”
“So that’s it. You’re just letting her go,” she said with annoyance.
When he said nothing, she made a move towards the door. “You know Luca, if you think about it, Gaby didn’t really need you to get into the Villa for the necklace; she’d already accomplished that with me.”
“What are you saying?” he asked looking back at her.
“Just that she didn’t have to go quite so far with you, if she didn’t want to.”
“Maybe she wanted to be a Countess?” he said sarcastically.
She shook her head at him. “After meeting our Nonna, I’d hardly think any woman would willingly enter our illustrious family. In fact, I wouldn’t wish being a Manetti on my worst enemy. No…, you’re wrong. She loved you Luca, not the title, but you. And if you can’t see that, you don’t deserve her.”
Luca swallowed hard. “I don’t deserve to be lied to either,” he said quietly.
“You know there’s one thing that bothers me.”
“Only one?” he spat.
“How did Nonna get the necklace?”
“What?” he said quickly.
“How did she get it after all these years?”
“How should I know Carmina? Maybe a volunteer found it.”
Shaking her head, Carmina shot back, “No, I asked around.”
Luca put his face in his hands. He wished Carmina would stop talking. He didn’t want to discuss it any longer. Didn’t want to think or feel any longer. Didn’t want to face the fact that what he had with Gaby didn’t exist, never existed –it was all smoke and mirrors; and lies. “Who cares where or how she got it; the point is Gaby wanted to steal it from us!”
“Just wondering,” Carmina said calmly. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, then Carmina continued, “You know, Gaby said something else about her Grandfather that piqued my interest.”
“I, for one, am really not interested Carmina,” he replied shortly.
She ignored him and persisted, “It seems when Clinton Walker originally stole the necklace, he did so at a party, here at the Villa.”
“So?” he asked, with an indifferent shrug.
“Would you like to know the name of the woman who got him the invitation?”
“Not really.”
“Well, I’ll tell you anyway. It was Anna.”
Luca’s head rose from his hands, “Anna?”
“Yes, Anna Barisconi. Better known by her married name as Countess Anna Maria Manetti; or Nonna.” Luca continued to stare at her. “Still not interested how she got the necklace?” she said with smirk.
*****
Gaby unlocked the door to her brownstone, dragging her suitcases behind her. Coming home had been an ordeal. A storm in the Atlantic had caused all European flights to be delayed and she’d spent almost as much time in the departure lounge than on the actual plane. The normally ten hour travelling time extended to twenty, and all she wanted now was a hot shower and a bed to lay her head on before it imploded.
She’d tried with all her might not to cry in public, and held on as long as she could, but the tears fell of their own accord the moment she settled into her seat on the plane. The hostess politely asked if she was all right, and she nodded and sniffed; her eyes red and puffy. After that, the crew basically left her alone to sob in silence or morosely stare out the window into the clouds. Having bawled for at least five thousand of the six thousand miles from Florence to Boston, she was now officially all cried out and positive she didn’t have another drop of moisture left in her body.
Walking into her bedroom she noticed the answering machine blinking rapidly, and with a burst of energy that came out of nowhere, she bolted for it. Pressing the play button, she waited as the mechanical voice told her she had two new messages. Her heart in her throat, she waited anxiously for them to start.
Message one was only a fellow teacher asking if she had the schedules for the coming year. Message two … was her sister Grace, telling her to call her back the moment she came home.
Gaby sighed heavily. Did she really expect him to call after what he’d said and the coldness in his eyes? Did she really think he felt anything but contempt for her? Lecturing herself to keep it together, she undressed and headed for the shower.
Five hours later, after a scalding shower and short sleep, Gaby felt much more herself and less like the walking dead. She unpacked her bags quickly, but paused slightly when removing the dresses that seemed so out of place now she had returned home. Putting them at the back of her closet she tried not to think about the appreciative looks that Luca had bestowed on her while wearing them and how he’d stripped her of them in the heat of passion.
The phone rang loudly, bursting her bubble of reverie and bringing her back to earth. “Hello?” she answered absently.
“Where have you been? And why haven’t you returned my call?”
“Grace?” Gaby frowned. Her baby sister was certainly direct.
“Yes, it’s Grace,” came to tart reply, “Now why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you about what?” she asked in bewilderment.
Grace groaned in frustration, “I had a call from the Sunset Care Facility. They were looking for you and I was next on the list of contact relatives for Gran-pop.”
Gaby bit her lip, “You know?”
“Yes, I know. Why, oh why didn’t you call me?” she chastised. “For heaven’s sake, he’s my Grandfather too.”
“What good would it have done Grace? I mean you have as little money as I do.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “That’s not exactly the case,” Grace finally said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean … I mean I sold a painting,” she answered, brimming over with excitement.
“You sold …”
“Yes,” Grace said happily. “And it’s more than enough to cover Gran-pop’s expenses.”
Gaby let out a long sigh. She couldn’t believe it. She knew that Grace was exhibiting her work with a small independent gallery as well as working at the auction house, but she had no idea that her art could command such a high price.
She shook her head in disbelief. The trip to Italy hadn’t been necessary after all. The problem could have all been taken care of if she had only confided in her baby sister. None of it had to have happened.
The fact that all of her heartbreak could have been avoided was of little comfort to her now. The horse had bolted, too late to shut the barn.
“Gaby, are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here. That’s wonderful Grace and such a relief. I have to tell you, I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do for money, short of robbing a bank.” She frowned, realising what she’d said.
“Well, it’s all settled now. The cheque is on its way as we speak. So tell me, just where have you been the last three weeks?”
Gaby almost burst into tears, but instead cleared her throat and lied, “Grace … can I call you back, I think there’s someone at the door.”
“Oh, … okay. Call me back later and we’ll chat.”
“Sure thing.” Placing the phone back on the receiver, she cursed loudly. Damn! She hated lying to Grace. But the thought of retelling the whole story again was more than she could bear. Good grief, were tears forming in her eyes again?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I’m sorry to say I told you so, but …”
“Enough gloating Nonna,” Luca warned, “You were right, let’s leave it at that.”
The Contessa held her hand out to him and he joined her on the settee in her bedroom. “I’m so glad you came to visit –you don’t come enough to Milano to see me. It’s a beautiful city, and you know this house will be yours when I’m gone.”
Luca cringed. Why must the elderly always speak of death so haphazardly? “I’m sure you’ll outlive me Nonna; a
nd you know it.”
Her laughter fluttered around him and he couldn’t help but notice how lighthearted she was. It appeared that Nonna’s spirits had lifted considerably since Gaby’s departure. Her sudden happiness was unexpected, and for some inexplicable reason, it bothered him immensely.
He couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if his Grandmother hadn’t interfered. Would Gaby have simply continued looking for the necklace, stringing him along until she found it. Or would she have gambled on the bigger prize of becoming a Countess; enjoying his money and title for as long as she had the taste for it. He’d never know. But resenting his Nonna was certainly not the answer. Yes, she had interfered and discovered the truth. But if anything, Gaby had caused her own demise from his life. His Grandmother was just the catalyst that revealed her treachery.
Gaby. He closed his eyes and imagined her sweet face looking lovingly into his own. But it hadn’t been love –it had been lies, all lies. Two months had passed since she’d left his life and he was still coming to terms with the enormity of the hole she’d left in his heart. He’d tried to fill it with parties at the Villa and at his country home, but the loneliness he felt, even when surrounded by a room full of people, was deep and unwavering. He wondered what she was doing. School would have started by now. Did she even spare a moment to think of him?
He shook his head to banish the thoughts invading it. She was no good. A liar. A thief. And he was better off without her. “Shall we dine on the terrace tonight?” his Nonna was asking him. He nodded and she smiled back with a look of triumph.
Her satisfied demeanour was again making him incredibly agitated and uncomfortable. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Carmina’s voice filled his head, “Still not interested how she got the necklace?”, and suddenly he was interested, very interested.
Although Carmina had tried once more to broach the subject with him after Gaby left, he had screamed and raged so angrily at her, she had never mentioned it again. He hadn’t wanted to hear anything Gaby related; it hurt far too much. But now …, now that his anger had parlayed into sheer and abiding pain –maybe it was time to find out just how his Nonna came to have the necklace in her possession.
“Nonna, I’ve been meaning to ask you. That is …, I was wondering …,”
“What is it Luca? You seem distressed,” she replied calmly.
Luca decided to put it straight to her, no dilly dallying around, “About the necklace? How did you get it? I mean, how did you know where Walker hid it?”
Her eyebrows arched in surprise, “Clinton Walker was a scoundrel. He deserved to be in prison for what he did.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Luca prodded further, “According to Walker, you invited him to the party knowing he was a thief. Why invite a thief into your home?”
“Well, it wasn’t my home just yet. The Count and I had just become engaged.”
“Once again, you’ve avoided my question.”
She stiffened, “Do you work for the Polizia now or something Luca. Why the interest in something that happened so long ago?”
“When it affects what happens now, I’m interested,” he replied with a hint of determination. He stared at her until her eyes backed down. Why wouldn’t she answer him directly? Usually she was nothing if not forthright in her manner.
“If you must know, although I invited him, I didn’t suspect he would steal from me. When I discovered him leaving the Count’s quarters, I followed him and called the police. I saw him hide the necklace when the sirens started. They didn’t catch him red-handed like I’d hoped. He got away.”
Luca frowned at her admission. “But all this time you knew he didn’t get away with the necklace. The police, everyone, thought it was stolen. And I might add, the insurance company paid out a pretty penny in compensation at the time.”
“Yes, they did,” she smiled delightedly.
Getting up and walking to the window, Luca tried to comprehend her behaviour. She actually seemed proud to have swindled the insurance company out of thousands of dollars. “But why would you associate with someone like him in the first place?” he asked in confusion.
She shrugged. “Clint was a favourite of the crowd I ran around with at the time; even though his social standing wasn’t entirely clear. He was completely charming and quite frankly, devastatingly handsome.” She continued, oblivious to the disapproving look her Grandson was throwing her way, “The truth is, when I invited him, I thought he was going to steal Baroness Borlotti’s diamond tiara at the party, not my necklace. He told me the tiara was his target. I trusted him and he lied to me. If only he’d been caught with the necklace as I’d hoped –but when that didn’t happen I made the best of it by getting the necklace –and the insurance money.”
“You knew he was going to steal from a guest at your party? And you approved?”
“Certainly I did,” she chuckled, “I always hated the Baroness; so pretentious, and she flirted outrageously with every man she met. It would have served her right.”
Luca swallowed hard and continued looking out the window. He couldn’t look her in the face, for he was sure his shock would show all too clearly. “So you allowed Clinton Walker to steal from the people you knew. Tell me, did you receive any payment for your help in his crimes?”
“Of course not Luca. Don’t be ridiculous,” she stated haughtily.
He turned to her with desolate eyes, “Then what did you get out of it?”
The Contessa’s chin rose in the air, “Personal satisfaction. Those who crossed me, paid for it. In the only way that truly hurt them –their wealth.”
Although difficult, Luca kept his cool, his voice level and controlled. “Were you ever in contact with Clinton Walker again? Did you continue this larcenous behaviour after marrying my Grandfather?”
“No,” she replied sharply. “I never saw him again. Never wanted to. He’d lied to me. I heard he married sometime in the late fifties. I then heard he was in the South of France –up to his old tricks again no doubt. So I warned the French authorities, and they evidently caught him, as I next heard that he was in prison. He sent me a letter after he got out. Apparently he was trying to go straight.”
She got up and moved towards the back of her bedroom. “I still have the letter in my safe. Would you care to see it?”
Luca sat down on the settee she had vacated. His head fell into his hands. His Grandmother was no better than Gaby’s Grandfather. But at least Clinton Walker had paid for his sins with prison time. From the way she spoke, his Nonna didn’t even believe she’d done anything wrong. He swore softly under his breath. He’d called Gaby a liar and thief when she was only trying to help her family out of love. And his own flesh and blood had lied and helped steal for the sole purpose of making people she disliked unhappy.
“Here it is.” She gladly handed over the yellowing envelope. “Read it –the lies are quite amusing in retrospect.”
Luca took the letter and opened it carefully. He read it aloud.
Dear Anna,
For you are still dear to me after all these years. I write you this in the hope that you will forgive me. I was a stupid fool all those years ago declaring my love for you when I knew you were promised to another. I know now that your marrying the Count was for the best and that I could never have given you the life you deserved, being what I was.
I took the necklace to hurt you. When you rejected me that night on the terrace, I was beside myself with jealousy and I knew the necklace was an important part of the Count’s family tradition. I’m sorry now for any pain I may have caused you, but know this. I did love you, and for that I will never be sorry.
As to the whereabouts of the necklace –my life will serve as a clue. You always did like puzzles, if I remember rightly. Puzzles and Dostoyevsky.
Stay well.
Clinton Walker
Luca looked up at her, “Dostoyevsky?” he asked with a frown.
“Crime and Punishment,” she said with
a smirk, “It was a favourite of mine.”
Standing abruptly, Luca handed her back the letter. “He was in love with you.”
“So he says. But then lies were second nature to him,” she declared with venom.
Luca looked at his Grandmother –really looked at her. She was diminutive but determined. Hard and unrelenting in her hatred. Is this how he would be if he continued on the path he was on; believing that only his viewpoint mattered and nothing else. He looked at the letter in her hand and then glanced towards the open safe behind her. “What else do you have in there?” he asked harshly.
“Luca, no!” She stepped in front of him and tried to block his way.
It only made him more determined. He pushed past her and stood before the box that held all his Grandmother’s valuable possessions. He hesitated reaching in, but the temptation was too great and her anxious pleading fell on deaf ears.
Boxes of jewellery were stacked neatly to one side. On the other side were papers. From what he could tell they were mostly official looking documents and letters –stacks of letters. Luca pulled out a bundle; the postmark catching his attention. “California,” he said quietly. He glanced at his Grandmother, who stood stoically by his side. “These are from my mother –to my father. But why do you have them?”
“Your father was weak.”
“That’s not an answer,” he blazed back at her.
“He didn’t know his own mind.”
“That’s not an answer,” Luca roared in anger.
“What’s going on here?” Carmina appeared in the doorway, her face a study in concern.
“Nothing,” the Contessa answered calmly.
Luca pounced on her words, “No, not nothing.” He strode over to his sister. “You know what these are? Letters. Letters from my mother to my father. From what I can see, over thirty of them. And he never knew.” He turned on his Grandmother, “Did he?”