Model Under Cover--Dressed to Kill Read online

  “I’ll tell you – but later.”

  “I’ll hold you to that, you know.” He leaned in close to me and I swear he was about to touch my face with his hand.

  “Fine,” I said, pulling back sharply. “And another thing, Lucas…”

  He smiled.

  “When they come for the cards, you need to do something else…I need you to give something to one of them. But, first, would you mind helping me translate something into Italian?”

  “Not at all.” He motioned for me to sit down opposite him at the desk. Then he reached into a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. I dictated my letter to him and together we tweaked it. Then I opened the envelope Ugo had given me, pulled out the sheet of Falco’s personalized stationery and copied the letter we’d composed onto it…

  Dear Elisabetta,

  I cannot write well any more, so I’m asking one of the nurses to help me with this last note to you.

  This is my final goodbye. I will have moved to another place by the time you read this.

  You have been my true family – your friendship has meant more to me than you can ever know.

  Remember the message in the cards, and use it to help yourself.

  With all my love,

  Falco

  Ugo’s forged signature looked perfect at the bottom of the sheet. Then, on the margin of the note I scribbled lightly, in pencil, the following words:

  Cimitero Monumentale

  Look under the statue on the Ventini crypt

  I took the letter and folded it, wrinkled it up a bit and rubbed it quickly between my palms, trying to make it look less crisp and white. I put the letter in its envelope and then gave it to Lucas.

  “So which one of the lucky callers gets this?” he asked.

  I took a piece of notepaper from the top of the desk and wrote something down before pushing the slip of paper across the desk to him. “You are to ‘sell’ the cards to the person who fits this description. And you must give them the letter before they leave with the cards. It’s important to tell them that when Signor Rinconi first came in with the cards he told you that the letter was attached to them. Act as if you are about to throw it away, but then ask if the new owner of the cards would like it. Say that it is from someone called Falco Ventini. Read the name – it’s printed on the back of the envelope – when you do so. It is imperative that the ‘buyer’ reads the letter. Once they’ve done that they’ll probably leave in a rush. Can you message me as soon as they’ve left here?”

  I paused for a moment before continuing. “As for the person who doesn’t fit the description I just gave you – can you tell them that the tarocchi collector you had lined up no longer wants to buy the cards. Therefore, Signor Rinconi is now free to sell the cards to any interested party. But tell the second caller that they must come back to your office tonight at nine to buy the cards. Is that all right with you?”

  “You don’t ask much,” smiled Lucas, “but yes, I’ll keep the office open – no problem.”

  “Tell them that tonight is their only chance to buy the cards because Signor Rinconi is scheduled to meet with an auction house tomorrow morning. Of course it’s all a lie and the cards will be with the other person but…” I trailed off not wanting to say more.

  “I’m curious, you know…” He smiled.

  “You’ll hear all later. And don’t be surprised if I show up for the appointment at nine.”

  “I’ll count on it.”

  I quickly said goodbye and left. Sebastian was waiting for me outside. After belting my trench coat, I slipped my helmet on, jumped onto the back of his scooter and we peeled away from the kerb.

  I would give Lucas the signal to make the calls in about an hour – as soon as I was finished with my two go-sees. As we parked outside the building of the first, Sebastian asked, “Is there anything I should pick up that you think we might need later?” He nodded in the direction of some small shops lining the quiet street outside the photography studio I was heading for.

  “Yes, ropes, please. Three of them.”

  “Planning on tying someone up?”

  “Yes, you – if you don’t stop with the corny questions.”

  “The final chase hasn’t even started and already you’re this punchy? It sounds like we’re going to have some fun.”

  “Wait and see, Watson.”

  “I will, Holmes.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Three whistles if they have them.”

  “I won’t ask why.”

  “I wouldn’t tell you anyway.”

  Sebastian laughed and headed off on his mission.

  My next appointment was with Vittorio Ferrante, a successful Milan-based photographer – which in the fashion world was bit of an oxymoron. Super-successful photographers are mainly based in New York and Paris, with a few in London – hardly any of the big ones are in Milan. While Vittorio carefully turned the pages of my portfolio, he asked me how I was enjoying his city.

  “Well, it’s much more exciting than I thought it would be,” I answered honestly, if vaguely.

  “I’m happy to hear that. I think it’s a great city; most tourists head for Rome and Florence, but Milan has a lot of action, too.”

  I definitely agreed with that!

  He asked me a few more questions about some of the work I’d done and then he took a couple of quick photos of me to show a client. “I’ll be shooting their lookbook soon and I think you’re the type they’re looking for…”

  He took a zed card from the pocket in my book and then I left.

  My next go-see, at Italian Elle, also went quickly – although from the amount of times I checked my phone, anyone watching would have thought the time was crawling by. I couldn’t help counting down the minutes until I could give Lucas the signal. I only hoped he’d remember everything I’d asked him to do.

  Fortunately for me, the editor I was seeing was busy and had a no-nonsense approach to our appointment. There wasn’t much chit-chat but she did ask me to quickly try on a couple of coats for a winter story she’d be shooting soon. She was pleased with how they fitted and called my agency to put me on option while I was still in her office. I could practically feel Tomasso’s excitement vibrating through her phone.

  Finally, my modelling tasks were over! Of course, no sooner had I burst out of the Italian Elle offices than Tomasso was trying to call me. But at this point there was no way I was going to let any more modelling stuff get in my way. The wheels of my plan were in motion and it was too late to stop them turning. I ignored his call. I’d call him back – later. Right now I had a killer to catch.

  The Cimitero Monumentale – or Monumental Cemetery – was aptly named. I’d never seen anything like it. Even the online images hadn’t prepared me for the reality. From its prominent position at the bottom of a wide boulevard, the Famedio – or Temple of Fame – the largest building in the cemetery, dominated the view. Many of Milan’s richest families and most influential leaders in culture and politics rested here.

  While Sebastian locked up his scooter, I looked at my phone. It was just past four o’clock. As I picked up my phone to call Lucas, Ellie drove up in a taxi.

  I hoped Lucas would be able to get through to the suspects first time and sent up a silent prayer to the detective gods to help him. I knew, though, that once they heard it was Lucas calling about the cards, they’d want to meet him. And I was certain that the suspect who got the letter would head for the cemetery as soon as they’d read it. They were about to find the very prize they’d been searching for. I doubted they’d waste a second.

  We had just under two hours until the cemetery closed – but I calculated it would be enough time. In any case, this was my one and only chance. By late tonight my mum would have me under her thumb.

&nbs
p; “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get a map.” We moved briskly in the direction of the sign marked “office”.

  We had the cemetery to ourselves. The friendly old man working the small office gave us each a map. I searched mine straight away, but didn’t see any reference to the Ventini family tomb. So while Ellie and Sebastian started walking towards the Temple of Fame, I asked for directions.

  “Bocconi?”

  “No – Ventini. Famiglia importante. Moda. Alta moda.”

  “Motta? Angelo Motta?” It was clear the official was hard of hearing – and probably didn’t know where the Ventini family crypt was anyway. I looked at the time on my phone. We’d have to move quickly, but between the three of us, surely we’d find the crypt without too much difficulty.

  I followed Ellie and Sebastian up the incredibly wide, formal stone staircase that led to the high, arched, central entrance of the Temple of Fame. The views from this height were spectacular, and the ceiling so ornately painted – but we weren’t here to admire the scenery.

  “So where to, Holmes? What are we looking for here?” asked Sebastian.

  I took out my phone and pulled up the images of the cards. I’d quickly taken the photos this morning, when I’d had the idea of asking Lucas for his help.

  “So, the grinning skeleton – death,” I said as I held up my phone. “Like I said last night, has led us here. And this,” I now pulled up the photo of the lady on horseback, “I think, represents a sculpture – most probably the one on the Ventini family crypt.” I pulled up the screenshot image I’d grabbed and showed it to Sebastian.

  He did a double take. “Good sleuthing, Holmes, you’re definitely on to something. So now we just have to find the Ventini family crypt…”

  “Exactly.”

  It was only after we’d walked through the cavernous central chamber of the Temple of Fame and stood on the outdoor terrace behind it that I realized how difficult this would be. Like a small forest, the heavily wooded cemetery spread far and wide beneath us and was crammed full of sculptures and crypts! I’d never seen anything like it. The three of us scanned the cemetery, hardly able to believe our eyes. Every square centimetre of the sprawling cemetery gardens was crammed with mausoleums adorned with statues of women, men, angels, horses, bulls, urns and columns, pyramids and obelisks, all carved in stone. Clearly, finding a particular family crypt here would take some time…

  “I think I need help with this,” I said as I reached for my phone and called Ugo. He wasn’t answering – he was probably in a meeting. I sent him a message instead and hoped he’d get back to me quickly.

  I put my phone away and opened my map. After studying it for a minute I divided up the work. Ellie would start along the western flank of the garden. Sebastian would cover the middle section and I’d start on the eastern flank and we’d each work methodically towards the very back of the cemetery. I sent them both the photo of the tarot card with the lady on horseback, along with the screenshot from Falco’s funeral. After making sure our phones were on silent (we’d made sure they were all fully charged too), I took the bag of supplies from Sebastian and passed him and Ellie a length of rope each. “In case we need to tie anyone up.” I took one for myself and handed out the whistles next.

  “In case we need help?” Sebastian asked.

  “Exactly, Watson.”

  Then we quickly walked down the stairs leading from the terrace to the cemetery gardens and split up to search.

  The time flew by quickly. The vast cemetery was filled with a maze-like series of paths that took time to navigate. And just when I’d thought I’d seen every crypt and tombstone in a particular corner, something else, half hidden by a shrub, would catch my eye.

  Huge topiary bushes and dark twisted pine trees added a sinister air to this place of death. I now understood, too, why Elisabetta had packed sneakers in her basket on Tuesday. If she’d been heading here that evening, she would have needed them in order to cope with the uneven ground – this was no place for heels.

  I was about halfway through the area I was searching when my phone buzzed. It was Lucas.

  “The caller I gave the letter to has just left – and as you predicted they seemed in a rush. I think they’re on their way to the cemetery now.”

  I thanked him and rang off. The chase was on! I’d laid my trap and my number one suspect was on their way. Now I’d just have to find the Ventini crypt before they got to it. I sent Ellie and Sebastian messages telling them to stay alert. The suspect would be in the cemetery within the next quarter of an hour or so – and we couldn’t let them escape. As I put my phone back into my pocket, the wind picked up and thunder cracked through the humid, grey air. A few heavy raindrops fell. Another storm was about to let loose.

  Maddeningly, not one of us had yet found the Ventini crypt. I was just walking quietly towards yet another small family mausoleum when I saw a dark shadow flit through the juniper trees to my left. I quickly jumped behind the nearest shrub, waited until they passed me and then tried to follow them, but I lost them as quickly as I’d seen them. A minute later I caught sight of them again. Yes, it was my suspect – despite the dark glasses and billowing coat, I recognized them easily – and they were heading towards the back of the cemetery.

  I messaged Ellie and Sebastian, telling them our target had arrived and which direction they were taking.

  The suspect moved quickly along the twisting paths with eagerness and confidence – and no idea they were being followed; they’d clearly bought the story I’d asked Lucas to tell. But the further they advanced the more cautious they became. I dropped further behind and was mindful of the twigs underfoot. But the suspect stopped twice and stood for a moment, as if they knew they were being followed. I made sure to stay far enough behind and as close to the bushes and monuments as possible, hoping they’d think any noise they heard was the wind rustling behind them.

  Finally, towards the very back of the cemetery, the suspect slowed to a walk, stopped and turned, slowly sweeping their gaze from side to side. Sure that there was no one else around, they approached a crypt of some sort – I couldn’t see it well from where I stood, it was half hidden by a large juniper bush. I watched as they pulled out one of Elisabetta’s tarot cards and compared the image on the card to what I assumed was the sculpture on top of the crypt. So Falco’s family crypt must be behind the large juniper bush?

  As the suspect stood, holding the card in their hand, I kept in the shade of the bushes and got as close as I dared. What I saw was indeed the Ventini crypt – and it really did look like a hermit’s cave. And there, atop the enormous granite boulder that formed the back of the Ventini family mausoleum, was a bronze statue of a lady dressed in robes and on horseback. And, as I had guessed, she looked exactly like the image of the lady on Elisabetta’s tarocchi.

  I sent Ellie and Sebastian a message directing them to an enormous juniper bush at the very back of the cemetery; I couldn’t be more specific. Then I prepared myself for the move I’d have to make next. I crouched down on my hands and knees and crawled forward. The suspect was occupied with trying to reach the statue. It wasn’t easy because it was set quite high up. I watched as they searched the side of the boulder with their fingertips, seeking out small edges just wide enough to hold the tips of their toes and fingers, and they carefully began scaling the boulder’s craggy side.

  I crawled forward so that I was now close to the crypt, but still under the bushes to the side of it. The suspect had climbed high enough and was now searching around the stone directly underneath the woman and her horse, probably looking for a hidden recess in the boulder. They didn’t find one, but after further searching, it appeared there was a recess in the horse, underneath its saddle – and the lady was acting like a cover. The statue was not that small and it looked like solid bronze, but finally the suspect eased the lady and her horse apart.

 
I now got up onto my feet and, crouching low, I approached the crypt. I watched as the suspect reached into the recess of the statue, pulled out a bag and held it up to the light. Were the gems in there?

  Sebastian and Ellie were still not with me but I couldn’t wait any longer – not while the suspected killer was within my sight and I could catch them red-handed. Without further thought I ran out from the shadow of the bushes – I needed to build up as much momentum as possible. I sprinted, moving my arms and legs like pistons, then, without a sound, I lunged forward. I aimed for the suspect’s legs, caught them, and yanked as hard as I could, hoping to pull them down. But their hands locked onto the small bronze horse, which was melded securely onto the rock.

  Our struggle was on! With a hard backwards kick the suspect managed to loosen my grip on one leg and wasted no time in kicking at my head with the freed foot. Sneakers softened the impact, but still I felt a searing pain on the side of my head. Somehow I managed to hang on to the other leg with both arms but I could feel my hands slipping.

  I glanced up to find Francesca staring at me, her face contorted with rage and desperation. Any trace of her flirtatious side was long gone; her eyes burned like a demon possessed. “You interfering brat!” she hissed. “The tunnel didn’t finish you off, but I will!”

  Despite my best efforts, my hold on her leg loosened and after another quick tussle I fell to the ground, landing badly on my ankle. I let out a cry of pain. I struggled to reach into my pocket and pull out my whistle. I blew harshly, letting its shrill shriek act as a scream. But in that short moment Francesca had twisted round and, like a werewolf crouched on a rock, ready to attack its prey, she looked set to spring. In one quick movement she threw herself down, screaming as she flew through the air. She landed on me with a loud thud.

  She was larger than me and heavier, too – I stood no chance of displacing her. I fought back, though, trying my best to unseat her, but she was fast and any attempt to gouge her eyes or bite her was deflected. With one hand she was squeezing my throat while with her other she reached towards the steps leading to the Ventini crypt. Suddenly she smiled at me sweetly. Through my gasping and choking I saw her free hand grasp at the heavy glass and iron lid that covered an antique candleholder just beside her. The lid opened easily – in fact, as I was about to find out, it wasn’t attached.