Model Under Cover--Dressed to Kill Read online

  “Actually, Lavinia, you’ve been a great help.”

  I was still standing outside Tavi’s flat when Ellie messaged me:

  Got another fashion party tonight – at Bulgari. But I need a break from all the male models! Also I want to know what’s going on with everything…

  We arranged to meet. Sebastian picked me up at Tavi’s and from there we zoomed straight to the nearest deli to pick up some panini and a couple of salads. We continued straight on to Milan’s largest and best-known park, the Parco Sempione, for a picnic dinner. Ellie jumped out of a taxi just as we pulled up and together we found a quiet spot on a small hillock with a picture-perfect view of the sprawling Castello Sforzesco, the ancient stronghold of the Dukes of Milan.

  We made ourselves comfortable on a large blanket Ellie had picked up from our model flat and unpacked our dinner.

  “So, Holmes,” Sebastian asked. “Any new leads?”

  “I thought you’d never ask…” I said calmly as I looked up at them both from behind my panini. Then I told them everything about my visit with Tavi, and my conversation with Lavinia.

  “What a story!” Ellie said as I came to the end.

  I nodded. “The jewels were definitely switched – and Falco must have done it. No one else was near that dress for long enough to swap them.”

  Ellie put her salad down. “So where are the jewels now?”

  “That’s exactly what I asked Lavinia…”

  “And?”

  “Her answer was the most interesting part of my day…the very same thing she told me last night when I asked her about how Falco found out he was ill. She said, Falco would probably tell you it was in the cards.” I took another bite of my panini. “Yesterday she told me that Falco regularly flew in a professional to read for him. He seemed to look at life as one big tarot reading.”

  “Like you look at life as if it’s one big game of Cluedo,” Ellie said with a giggle.

  “Very funny.” I threw my balled-up napkin at her as she stuck her tongue out. “Anyway, Lavinia’s words, Falco would probably tell you it’s in the cards, keep running through my mind.”

  Sebastian suddenly got it. “So you think that those three cards could be clues that will help you find the hidden treasure?”

  “Possibly, yes,” I said. “First of all, why else would Elisabetta have the cards in the first place – she didn’t like tarot. It wouldn’t be a far-fetched idea for Falco to use tarot cards to convey a secret message.” As I spoke I pulled on the gloves Lucas had given me, then I took my portfolio out of my rucksack and laid the cards on top of it.

  I picked them up one by one and checked them carefully yet again, but I still didn’t find any kind of writing on them at all.

  “What are you looking for?” Sebastian asked.

  “I thought perhaps the clue to the hiding place might literally be written on the cards, but I don’t see how.”

  “Invisible ink?” Ellie asked.

  I shook my head. “These cards are so old that any kind of ink – invisible or not – would probably damage them permanently. But maybe the clues are in the images on the cards…?”

  Sebastian bent forward and peered at them carefully. “Now that doesn’t sound like a far-fetched idea to me. In fact, it sounds kind of clever…”

  “How so?” Ellie asked.

  “Well, first of all, because if you give someone cards as a kind of map to the treasure, it means that no written directions are necessary – and that makes it discreet and difficult to trace. You could lose the cards but still easily remember the images.”

  “Good point, Watson. But then what could these cards be referring to?” Briefly I repeated the conversation I’d had with Lucas about the different meanings each card represented.

  We looked at the three cards: the magician, death, the lady on horseback.

  “I think the magician refers to Falco himself,” I said. “According to Lucas, this card also refers to manual labour – handiwork, which is what Falco was good at – and shrewdness, which is what it took to even come up with his idea of switching the stones. All of that points to Falco. And from the photos I’ve seen, the little magician even looks a bit like him…”

  “But that wouldn’t give us a clue about the location of the jewels,” Sebastian said.

  “Unless it’s some kind of museum of magic?” I suggested. “The image does remind me of a museum I once went to, where they had magic tricks set up to look a bit like this image. Apparently they were ‘antique’ magic tricks.”

  “Okay…but why would Falco hide the stones in a museum?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “But we may as well look into it. It would help to eliminate it as a possibility.”

  “Right. I’ll check it out now.” Sebastian pulled his tablet out of his rucksack and started researching museums of magic.

  “But what about the death card? And the woman on the horse? You said Lucas wasn’t sure what she represented…” Ellie said.

  I nodded. “The lady had him stumped, but he said he’d have another look and compare her to similar cards in other decks. Hopefully I can meet him tomorrow morning before our show.” Ellie and I would both be walking in the Lei-Lei show, which I’d been confirmed for while I was at my booking in the morning. “As for the death card – it makes for a gruesome clue. I have no idea what Falco meant by it…”

  “It’s as if he knew that someone would die – as if he gave the card to Elisabetta knowing something would happen to her.” Ellie had a look of distaste on her face as she spoke.

  “I can’t imagine he would have given her a card that suggested she was meant to die shortly,” I said. “He loved Elisabetta. And, anyway, how would he know she was going to die? Unless he was directly to blame – in which case he’s a murderer from beyond the grave.” I shook my head. “No. Surely it must mean something else?”

  “Hmm, old Moony-Eyes reckoned it could refer to a big life change…” Sebastian said as he bit into his panini. “Maybe it was the life change he thought would come after he’d paid off his creditors and saved his business with the stones?”

  Ignoring his jibe about Lucas, I said, “Possibly, but then we’re only left with the woman on horseback as a clue to a location – and where could she be?” I was pulling the gloves off when I suddenly thought of something. “Those logbooks – do you have them, Watson?”

  “Yes, I have.” Sebastian pulled them out of his rucksack.

  “I need to know if Falco did any travelling in the weeks between the time he switched the stones and the time he went into hospital.”

  Sebastian nodded. As he searched he explained what he’d found out so far, “By the way, the place was incredibly busy in the build-up to Falco’s last collection; the records bear that out. Everyone’s names are in here: Francesca, Lavinia, Elisabetta, Ugo, Ginevra, Kristine and Alessandro. All working every day and all kinds of hours. Falco, of course, never signed in – but the security staff working in the lobby made notes of his comings and goings. According to their records he was practically living at the atelier. He was there for days on end before the show – often on his own far into the night…”

  Sebastian found the pages that documented the few weeks in question and handed the logbook to me. From what I could see, Falco had been at the Ventini offices every day until about two weeks after his last collection was shown. After that, suddenly, his name wasn’t seen again. Presumably because he went into hospital. I’d have to double-check this with Ugo.

  “Why do you need to know if he was travelling at that time?” Sebastian asked.

  “Because if he didn’t travel, then the stones are probably hidden somewhere here in Milan. But if he left the country, it’s possible that he took them with him and sold them overseas somewhere.”

  “Good point, Holmes.”

>   “Thank you, Watson. By the way, any idea what happened to the house he lived in after he died?”

  “Francesca mentioned that it was sold – along with everything else he owned. The creditors got their hands on it straight after. D’you think the stones might have been hidden in his house?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “They could have been. Maybe the lady referred to a painting or something with a safe behind it. But then if he’d wanted Elisabetta to have the stones he’d have hidden them somewhere that she could easily get to after his death, right?”

  “Is there a statue somewhere in the city of a woman on horseback? The stones could be near that or under it or something.”

  “Hmm, could be,” I said. “Although I hope it’s not a statue on the roof of the Duomo – I’m not so keen on climbing around up there again.”

  “As soon as I’ve finished researching magic museums I’ll start looking at famous statues in the city, maybe something will come up.”

  “If the horseback rider refers to where the stones are, then we’re still left with the dancing skeleton. What does that mean?” Ellie asked.

  Sebastian looked up from his tablet. “And if the cards are clues that lead to the jewels, then why would someone kill Elisabetta before making sure they had them? That doesn’t really make sense – especially when they seem to have been hunting them down ever since.”

  “I don’t know, Watson. But those are questions I’ll have to answer soon – very soon.”

  By Saturday afternoon, I thought. I was due to fly into London on Saturday evening – and Mum would fetch me at the airport. Just the thought of anything going wrong with these plans – say, like being locked in an underground tunnel again and missing my flight – made me sweat. Mum has antennae more sensitive than your average butterfly. If she even thought I was working on a case, I’d be grounded for the rest of my life.

  Sebastian busied himself on his tablet, then suddenly said: “There are no museums of magic in Milan. Or anywhere near Milan. At least nothing that I can find.”

  “Well, then, maybe we should just assume for now that the magician card refers to Falco – or more precisely to the switch he did.” I looked again at the card. The little man with the impossibly large plume in his colourful hat was sitting at a trestle table. Three walnut shells lay in front of him; the prize-winning token was presumably under one of them.

  Sebastian jumped in. “You’re right. It must refer to the switching of the gems. That trick is all about switching the token – the prize – from one shell to another without anyone seeing where it ends up. And that’s exactly what Falco did with the gems on that dress.”

  “Yes! We’re making progress!” Ellie said.

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t seem fast enough…” I said.

  My eyes moved to the other two cards – they had me completely stumped. I moved them to the side and lay down on the blanket, gazing up at the sky. Sometimes ideas come more easily if I put something away and stop thinking about it for a while.

  I wondered aloud about the sneakers in Elisabetta’s basket. Her friends had all laughed when I suggested she had a pair. Regardless, she had obviously intended to wear them. But why? She must have had a good reason…

  “Both Ugo and I heard Elisabetta say she was planning on doing something important on the night of the day she died… I was thinking that might be what she needed the sneakers for?”

  “It kind of seems like it, doesn’t it?” Sebastian said. “And she hinted to Ugo that the thing she had to do was connected with Falco… And that’s when Ugo told her to leave Falco’s ghost alone, isn’t it?”

  I nodded. “Something like that, yes. And it definitely had to do with the rumour about the jewels. She also mentioned that ‘everything was going according to plan’. But Ugo told her to let sleeping dogs lie and suggested she concentrate on her career.” I sighed. “She must have felt she was in for an athletic evening if she’d brought those sneakers.”

  Ellie smiled. “Yeah, but isn’t treasure hunting usually pretty physical? I mean you have to find it, then you have to dig and then you have to carry it all.”

  “Like a pirate?” I smiled. “There are a couple of little details that bother me, though, about the buried treasure scenario…”

  “Which are?” Sebastian asked.

  “Why didn’t Falco sell the gems as soon as he had them? He was desperate for the money.”

  “Don’t forget, he fell ill right after the fashion show. He probably just ran out of time,” Sebastian said.

  I nodded. “That makes sense…but then, if he’d told Elisabetta about it, why didn’t she sell them for him?”

  “Good point. I really don’t know,” Sebastian answered. “Maybe she didn’t want to be involved? Or didn’t approve? And maybe by then he thought, I’m going to die anyway, so screw it, there’s no point saving my business now, why don’t I give the gems to the person I love like family, and help her out of her financial trouble instead? Then, maybe he hid the gems in a place that Elisabetta could get to after he died, so she’d get something that the creditors couldn’t take?”

  “Maybe, yes.” I was silent for a moment. This case had me going round in circles. “Although…”

  Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Oh no. Whenever you say ‘Although…’ I know you’re about to punch a hole right through my theory.” He was laughing.

  “Then make them airtight, Watson. No one’s stopping you!”

  “Wouldn’t I like to!”

  “Anyway,” I continued, “Falco died about seven months ago, right? Not long after his last collection? So let’s say he decided that it was too late for him to profit from the sale of the stones, and that he did indeed tell Elisabetta where the gems were, giving her, at the same time, his three cherished antique tarocchi as a sort of ‘map’…then why did Elisabetta wait until now to find them? Especially when she had such urgent financial problems of her own? Why didn’t she find the stones straight away and sell them? Or at the very least why didn’t she sell the cards? Why wait?”

  Ellie and Sebastian both shrugged their shoulders and looked at me.

  “You’ve got us stumped, Holmes.”

  Another piece of the puzzle to figure out, I told myself.

  It was a wonderful evening, the night warm and still. We sat admiring the view for a while, finishing the fruit salads we’d bought for dessert. Then Ellie and I went over our schedules for tomorrow.

  We were the only girls in the Lei-Lei show we were booked for in the morning, and, according to Ellie (my fashion oracle), the stress level would be reduced because for once the focus would be on the guys! It also meant that it would take less prep time overall than usual, because hair and make-up would have more time for us (there wasn’t that much to do on the guys – although they wear more make-up on the runway than you’d think). Our call time was for 8 a.m. with the show starting at 10 a.m. Hopefully we’d be out of the venue – a large palazzo not far from the park – by noon at the latest.

  “And we got you a ticket,” Ellie said to Sebastian. “You just have to give your name at the entrance.”

  Sebastian gave us the thumbs up. “I look forward to seeing you two in action.”

  “Yeah, well keep your eyes open, Watson, and take notes, because I look forward to seeing how your wardrobe moves beyond its usual look of jeans and leather jackets.”

  He threw me a punch and I ducked.

  After the show I had two appointments – one to see Italian Elle and the other to meet a Milan-based photographer.

  “I have a couple of appointments after the show, too,” Ellie said, “so how about we meet up straight after we’re finished?”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  “So which tourist sights should we check out tomorrow? Because I know we’ll have so much free time…” Sebastian
smiled at me as he searched for our map. “Seriously, though, maybe we can squeeze in one thing…”

  “I’d love to do some sightseeing,” Ellie said. “Every time I come here I’m working. All I ever see is the road from Linate Airport to the Park Hyatt and then the road from the Park Hyatt to Megastudio or wherever else I’m shooting. I’ve never had a chance to get to know the city.”

  “Well, let’s say we suddenly – magically – have a hole in our schedule…” Sebastian turned to look at me. “Obviously this is only wishful thinking at this point, Holmes. But supposing we had time without modelling or detective work, what would we do?” He laid the fold-out map of the city on the grass in front of us. There was so much to see in Milan!

  “I definitely want to go to 10 Corso Como,” Ellie said. She was referring to the beautiful, super-hip store on the Corso Como that was established by Carla Sozzani the former fashion editor and sister of Franca Sozzani, editor-in-chief of Italian Vogue.

  “And I’d like to check out the castle,” Sebastian said as he pointed to the enormous fortress just beyond us.

  “And I’d like to…” I was about to say something about seeing Leonardo Da Vinci’s The Last Supper (we’d missed it on Tuesday) when my eye was caught by one of the more unusual tourist sights. We hadn’t planned on seeing it but I knew from the guidebooks that it was a surprisingly popular destination for tourists…and maybe…

  “Yes, Holmes?”

  I was staring at the map. Could that be what Falco had meant? Somehow it made sense… I started to get that buzz I get when I’m on the right trail. I was still staring at the map – and, if I was right, the clue was so obvious I felt annoyed with myself for not having thought of it sooner! I couldn’t help but laugh – Falco was a real trickster with a smooth sleight of hand. I looked up from the map at Sebastian and Ellie.

  “Oh no. I know that look,” Sebastian said.

  “Me, too,” Ellie added.

  “You know something and you’re not going to share it, are you?” Sebastian was smiling.