Model Under Cover--Dressed to Kill Read online

  I was silent for a moment, rapidly going over the details in my head.

  “Hello, Holmes? What are you thinking?”

  “Well it’s interesting, Watson…” I began. “All of the people who stayed late at Ugo’s after-party have worked for Falco.”

  “So? As you said yourself, Milan is small and Falco Ventini is a prestigious fashion house that every fashionista wants to work for. We can probably find groups of friends all over Milan who’ve all worked for Prada and Armani, too.”

  “Most likely, yeah.” I paused and a drip of water splashed noisily to the ground. “But right now I’m looking at this group, and everyone in this group worked for Falco at some point in their career. It’s a link and it’s in their past – I’d say it’s worth looking into. Maybe there’s a secret in there somewhere? Maybe something happened and Elisabetta tried to blackmail one of them?” I was excited to finally have something to sink my teeth into and it was fun to run with my idea for the moment, though it wasn’t going to be of much use as long as we were stuck underground.

  “Well, it’s definitely worth digging into,” Sebastian agreed.

  We continued walking. The strength of the phone torch wasn’t great and we couldn’t see that far ahead, but it seemed this tunnel had no end, and there was still no trace of a phone signal.

  “How much did they overlap at Falco’s?” I wondered aloud. “Like, were they all working there together, at the same time? Can you remember any details? I know that Elisabetta was still there for Falco’s last collection, before he fell ill – I’ve seen pictures of her at the show. Ugo was already there, too. I think they both joined at more or less the same time, which was about two years before Falco died.”

  “Kristine was around at that time, too,” said Sebastian. “I think she started casting for the Ventini shows a few years before Falco died. And she still casts for Ugo today.”

  “Yes, and I’ve seen photos of Alessandro working for Falco right up to the end – he even went to the hospital sometimes with Elisabetta when she visited Falco. In fact, I think they met at Falco’s.” I was starting to feel that there had to be something in this.

  “And I’m pretty sure,” Sebastian added, “that Ginevra worked at Ventini up until Falco’s last collection. Then she jumped to Amare. Elisabetta left for Amare a bit later – right around the time Falco died. I’d have to double-check but I think I’m right.”

  “Don’t forget, Watson, like it or not, Francesca was there, too.”

  “Ha ha, Holmes. Yes, she was.”

  “She was designing on the accessories team.” We walked on into the darkness.

  “Okay, so if we’re remembering everything we researched correctly, Ugo, Elisabetta, Kristine, Francesca, and Alessandro all worked for Ventini, in different capacities, at more or less the same time. And Ginevra, who’d started with Falco, had already moved on by the time Ugo took over.”

  “That sounds about right,” Sebastian agreed.

  “So, apart from the general facts that they all work in fashion, and that they are all friends of Ugo’s, the one and only thing we know that links the group who stayed late at Ugo’s specifically, is that they all worked in some kind of professional capacity for Falco, within the last five years of his life.” I was silent for a moment as I thought about that. “I know it’s not much, but so far it seems to be the most interesting link I can find between them. We should do some digging into their Ventini days. You never know…” Though I was beginning to wonder whether we’d ever get the chance…

  We stopped to catch our breath for a moment and check if we had phone signal. We didn’t, so Sebastian turned his torch back on and we pushed forward. I was just about to speak when I was forcefully yanked backwards. Something grabbed me from the side and wasn’t letting go. With a sharp intake of breath I reached out for Sebastian with my right hand. “Sebastian! Stop!” He turned quickly and with a sweep of his arm shone the torch onto me. I covered my eyes with my hands as the light blinded me. Something was still holding me back. I was desperate to free myself.

  Suddenly Sebastian laughed. “It’s all right, Holmes, it’s nothing…no, wait…actually, it’s a door!” I’d been so close to the wall on my left that I’d brushed up against some sort of doorknob and it had caught on one of the pockets of my military trousers. I nearly laughed with relief. I unhooked myself as Sebastian swept his torch beam down the tunnel in front of us and then back onto the door beside me.

  “So, Holmes, tunnel or door? Our batteries won’t last for ever. We’ve got to decide which way to go – at least we have an option now.”

  I stared into the black void of the tunnel. Who knew how long it was or where it led…? On the other hand, the door was tight shut and probably fused to its frame with rust, but it seemed to hold more promise.

  “Let’s try the door, Watson. We should at least see what’s behind it.” Together we turned and pulled on the knob, but despite some creaking, it didn’t budge. After a few minutes of fruitless effort I picked up a wooden stake from the ground. “Give me some light, will you?” I said as I slipped my phone into my back pocket and grabbed the stake with both hands. I started running the sharp end along the door frame, jamming it under the lip of the door wherever I could. While Sebastian held the torch with one hand, he kept working on the doorknob with his other, alternately turning it and pulling on it. Within minutes we were both panting from the exertion.

  “What I love about being with you, Holmes, is that even in cities packed with all kinds of attractions we always get to see and do things that are totally non-touristy – like trekking through this incredibly fascinating tunnel.”

  “Just think of it as urban authenticity, Watson,” I quipped. “You’re lucky to be getting a taste of the real Milan.”

  “Thanks – er, I think.”

  At that moment the door gave a brittle, raspy creak.

  “That’s it, Holmes, I think it’s coming loose! We just have to keep trying…” Excitedly I worked the stake even harder as Sebastian continued to pull on the doorknob.

  “By the way, don’t you have your date with Francesca right about now?”

  “It’s not a date, and you know it – besides what about you? Shouldn’t you be getting all moony-eyed with Lucas?”

  I didn’t answer because I suddenly felt the door loosen. “Turn the torch off,” I said. “Then we can use our four hands to pull on it.” We did just that, and slowly, very slowly, the door came loose from its frame until suddenly, with a loud snap, it swung back heavily on its rusted hinges.

  Sebastian and I jumped to the side and let go of the handle just in time, to avoid being hit by the door. But before I could react, high-pitched screams filled our ears.

  “What on earth was that?” I raised my hands to my ears and felt something swooping in close to me. The hairs on my arms and neck stood up. I could hear the screams in one place but then they’d move to another. It was like standing within the vortex of a flock of angry, swirling birds.

  A scream choked in my throat as I felt something catch in my hair. Panicking, I hit at my head and tried to free it. And that’s when I felt fur – fur attached to a small wriggling body. My hand snapped back in horror as wings beat against it – but they weren’t bird’s wings, I now realized. This was something else entirely, with wings, but fur instead of feathers – a bat.

  I managed to free it, but this time I couldn’t stop the scream, and pressed a hand over my mouth in case one of them tried to fly in. I could feel the bats darting in and out of the doorway as they lurched through the air all around me, their high-pitched squeals echoing off the tunnel walls. “Stand still,” Sebastian yelled. “They’ll fly away soon. And don’t turn your torch on. Just stay calm.”

  The last thing I felt was calm. I bent down and huddled into a ball, my head tucked down. I tried to breathe as slowly as poss
ible – not an easy task with wings beating all around my head. But Sebastian was right – after a few minutes the screeching subsided and, with a last collective swoosh, they receded as quickly as they had come. I was still curled up on the ground, though, as I slowly opened one eye and peered out from behind my arm.

  Sebastian turned on his torch, stood up and came to my side. He pulled me to my feet and we shook ourselves off as best we could before stepping through the opened doorway. And, by the light of the torch, we saw we were in another tunnel.

  “I think we should continue along the first tunnel,” Sebastian said. “This doesn’t look like a better option.” As he swept the torch over the ceiling above us I saw hundreds more bats, huddled together in clusters, hanging upside down from the ceiling. Their grinning faces seemed to mock us and their glittering black eyes followed our every move. They hung calmly, turning only their tiny heads as if to get a better look at us. “Besides,” he continued, “look how low those bats are hanging. Do we really want to risk upsetting them again?”

  I was suddenly reminded of a biology lesson at school; we’d learned quite a bit about bats. “Actually, Watson,” I said carefully, “I think the bat tunnel just might be our best option.”

  “Really?” Sebastian stood, hesitating at the doorway.

  I took my phone out of my back pocket and switched on my torch. “Save your battery, we’ll use a bit of mine now,” I said as I aimed my light beam forward, through the doorway and down the tunnel. “The thing is, I don’t think there are any bugs down here. I haven’t seen any flying around I mean. Or felt any. Have you?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Bats eat bugs and if they don’t find them here in the tunnels – and it doesn’t seem likely they do – it means they must hunt them outside. They live in this tunnel, but go hunting outside, probably over the neighbourhood canals – they’d find plenty of bugs over the water.”

  “So they must have a way in and out of here – an opening that leads outdoors?”

  “Exactly. The question is, could we squeeze through an opening they fly in and out of?” I remembered my biology teacher, Mr Hawkes, lifting up his hand in front of the class, his thumb and forefinger touching to form an “o” shape. “Bats can fly through the smallest of openings – that’s how they get into all sorts of buildings and rooftops and sleep in crevices in between walls and roof rafters.”

  “Well, there are an awful lot of bats in here, so let’s hope the opening is a large one! Lead the way, Holmes.”

  Surprisingly the bat tunnel was in better shape than the one we’d just left – there were train tracks here too, and though they were rotting and rusting, they were still in place and not half-buried as they had been in the first tunnel. After a hundred metres or so and a bend in the tracks, there was a sudden, if barely perceptible, change in the air.

  “Somehow it feels like we’re getting closer to an opening, doesn’t it?” I said as we broke into a slow run.

  We would have carried on running forward if Sebastian’s shoe hadn’t hit a stray stone. We heard it rattling loudly ahead of us before an eerie silence seemed to swallow it. A second later we heard a distinct “plop”. At that, Sebastian and I both held our arms out to stop each other from advancing.

  Sebastian turned on his torch, and we swept the two beams of light in front of us. Then we jumped back with a yelp; we were right at the edge of a huge underground pool. The water was still and unmoving. We had no way of knowing, but its forbidding blackness suggested it was very deep.

  “That was close, Holmes,” Sebastian said, sighing with relief.

  But something else had caught my eye. “Look at that…” I said as I pointed across the water. At some distance, but directly opposite us, a weak shaft of light was just visible. “It must be an opening!”

  We stood gazing across the quiet surface, with both torches illuminating the scene. The pool was rectangular in shape and enormous; its sides were steep and straight. I had no idea how to cross it – we could jump in and swim, of course, but the water looked filthy, and I wasn’t confident we’d be able to climb out on the other side.

  “It’s not a natural pool,” Sebastian said. “It’s an aqueduct or reservoir of some sort.”

  I nodded. “My guidebook says that the Romans built a maze of canals and aqueducts under Milan. They were used to store and carry water to all parts of the city, but a lot of the old Roman canals were paved over in the 1920s. Only a few are still open. I think they have special tours to see some of the older aqueducts and canals. The ones underground, I mean.”

  “Like this one.” Sebastian suddenly said, “Look down there, Axelle.” He was pointing to the left. I followed the arc of his finger and saw what looked like a stone ramp that led directly into the water. And at the top of the ramp lay something I couldn’t quite make out. We hurried along the edge of the pool until we reached it. A dirty old tarpaulin hid the shape from view. Sebastian pulled off the cover in one swift movement. Years of dust blew up in our faces, and, once again, frantic shrieks filled the air. I screamed as a colony of rats awoke and scurried away, their long tails dragging behind them. I jumped as one ran over my Converse.

  “Smooth move, Watson.”

  “Just testing your reflexes, Holmes.”

  “Thanks.”

  Underneath the tarpaulin was a ramshackle old wooden rowing boat. One oar was still attached but the second one had rotted through. A small metal case held a couple of mouldy, half-decayed life jackets and what I guessed was a map of some sort. I said as much as I handed it to Sebastian.

  “It’s not a map,” Sebastian said. “These are instructions for opening and closing the various valves in this reservoir. It’s a kind of maintenance manual. Anyway,” he continued as he threw the instruction booklet back into the metal case, “this boat’s our best ticket out of here. In fact, it’s probably our only one,” he added.

  There were no walkways along the sides of the aqueduct, and I didn’t see any openings in the high walls surrounding it. It was certainly better than trying to swim across. “Then I think it’s all aboard, Watson.”

  We pulled the decrepit boat down the ramp and to the water. I hoped it would hold up. Once we’d pushed it into the pool Sebastian held the sides while I got in. Then I held the single oar as he followed me in and soon we were on our way. Sebastian got on with rowing while I sat at the front and helped guide him.

  The boat was small and now that we were waterborne its flimsy build was even more apparent. After a few metres water started seeping in. I did my best to scoop it out with my hands, but it wasn’t enough. The boat was sinking.

  “If we don’t speed up, we’ll have to swim the last bit,” Sebastian said.

  Just the thought of getting into the dark, cold water made me nervous. But no matter how quickly I scooped it out, more seeped in. “We’ll have to jump, Axelle,” Sebastian finally shouted. “Give me your phone and get in.”

  I thought of the swimming lessons I’d had at home in London. I hadn’t enjoyed them.

  “Go, Axelle, go! The boat’s about to go under!”

  Argh! Sebastian was right. I shut my eyes and slipped overboard. I tried to keep my head above the water and more or less succeeded, but it was absolutely freezing.

  “Here, take the phones,” Sebastian said, handing them to me. “Hold your hands up high, so they’re out of the water and kick with your legs.”

  Sebastian dived into the water, easily clearing the remains of the sinking boat.

  Getting to the other side of the pool was slow going – we had to paddle and bob all the way, but by each holding an arm up and out of the water our phones stayed dry, and eventually we climbed onto a docking ramp, next to another small boat, at the far end of the pool.

  We were exhausted. It took all of our strength and concentration just to breathe. We both sat s
hivering on the ramp slowly catching our breath before deciding our next move. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sebastian watching me. He smiled and ran his fingertip slowly from the top of my forehead down to my chin, tracing my profile. Despite being soaked and feeling shattered, his touch felt warm on my skin and for a second I forgot everything but him.

  “You all right, Holmes?” he asked gently.

  “Yes I am, Watson – although I could have done without the bats.” I turned and caught his eye.

  “I’m glad being locked up and possibly left for dead didn’t bother you.” He laughed and I grabbed his finger. Then he helped me to my feet and we set off towards the light.

  This side of the pool didn’t have a tunnel leading out of it – or any other easily accessible opening that we could see. It did, however, have an abandoned industrial lift – although it looked like only the cage-like shaft was left, leading directly to the ground above. The light we’d seen earlier had come from here, and was now streaming down.

  “This must be where the bats fly in and out,” I said.

  “Yeah, it’s a shame we can’t follow them.”

  “True, Watson…”

  “At least we can open this one easily,” Sebastian said as he pulled on the rusted metal bars of the old lift door. “Door” was actually a sophisticated word for the dilapidated, scissor-style gate in front us. And even if we hadn’t been able to open it, we probably could have squeezed through its widely spaced bars. We stepped into the shaft and craned our necks upwards.

  The lift that must have fitted the shaft once upon a time was long gone. “But maybe…” I looked up. Just above our heads was a protruding U-shaped metal bar, one of many that seemed to lead right to the top of the shaft. They were heavily rusted but still securely fixed in place – originally put there for maintenance presumably – and, with some luck, climbable. “We’ve been running and swimming but we haven’t done any climbing yet. Shall we?”