Chapter 6 #2
I found Alice Graceland in her blissfully cool office, sitting at her desk.
This time, her laptop was open, and I couldn’t miss a pile of printed A4 sheets, probably an inch deep, alongside it on the desktop.
I’m not a betting man but I would have put money on this turning out to be the manuscript of the book she was writing, whatever it was.
She looked up and smiled as I walked in, and her smile broadened as she spotted Oscar.
She jumped to her feet and came around to shake my hand and crouch down in front of my very happy Labrador to make a fuss of him.
She glanced up at me with a delighted smile on her face that mirrored the toothy canine smile on his. ‘Hello again. What a lovely dog. And he’s the famous Oscar, isn’t he? Yes, you’re a very good boy, aren’t you? Oh, yes, you are.’
I assumed that the last bit of her comment was directed at Oscar and I wondered idly how she had known his name, so I responded to the first part.
‘Good morning, Miss Graceland. It’s Oscar all right.
He’s almost four years old, and I think I can safely assure you that he’s your friend for life now.
Of course, a fillet steak would probably help your chances of being included in his top ten favourite people, but I think you’re pretty well there already.
’ From the way his tail was wagging, I had little doubt about the veracity of this.
‘Do, please, call me Alice. “Miss Graceland” makes me feel so old. Your name’s Dan, isn’t it? Dan and Oscar, the crime-solving duo – that’s what Selena calls you, so I’ll do the same.’
I did my best to act as if being on first-name terms with two of the most famous and most beautiful women on the planet was nothing out of the ordinary for me. ‘Thank you, Alice. Oscar and I are at your service.’
Today, she was wearing a pair of white shorts and a pink, linen blouse.
Around her neck was a thin, gold chain with a little capital ‘A’ studded with diamonds suspended from it.
Her mass of light-blonde hair, which had been tied back the previous time I had seen her, was now hanging loose around her shoulders.
She had looked ten or twenty years younger than her real age last time we’d met, and she looked even younger today.
Ungenerously, I wondered to what extent this might be due to surgical assistance, but that was none of my business.
She looked great – and in her profession, appearance counts for a lot.
‘Mary said you’d got a list of names for me.’
She pointed over her shoulder to the desktop. ‘It’s just there on the corner of my desk.’
While she remained apparently enchanted by Oscar – and I could see that it was mutual – I walked over to the desk and located the printed list. As I did so, my eyes strayed across to the pile of pages on the other side of the laptop.
I felt pretty sure that this was the manuscript Mary had mentioned, but all I could read was a single word on the top sheet, presumably the title: Payback.
I didn’t want to appear nosey, so I retrieved the list of names and returned to where Alice was still crouching down with Oscar.
The title of the book – if, indeed, that was what I’d seen – fascinated me.
Was it a murder mystery, was it a thriller or, as Mary had surmised, was it Alice Graceland’s autobiography?
And if it was the latter, who was trying to get revenge against whom? And for what?
Any further conjecture was interrupted as Alice stood up again and pointed at the list in my hands.
‘There are going to be nine guests, and three of them are bringing their companions.’
The sarcastic way she pronounced the word ‘companions’ prompted my first question. ‘Would that be wives or husbands?’
Reluctantly, she abandoned Oscar and walked over to one of the sofas, indicating that I should take a seat opposite her.
I did as instructed and it came as no surprise to see Oscar position himself alongside her with his nose on her knees, staring adoringly into her eyes.
She started stroking him again as she answered my question. ‘A wife, a girlfriend, and a toyboy.’
I glanced down at the list of twelve names and ran through them.
I recognised the actors, Dirk Foster and Lucy O’Connell, but not all of the others.
Desmond Norman, the famous producer, was there, along with Carlos Rodriguez and Wilfred Baker, who were well-known film directors.
The other seven names were new to me. Most were men, but there was a woman whose name was unfamiliar to me – Maggie McBride – along with her plus one, indicated as Rocco Gentile. I shot Alice a cryptic look.
‘Would I be right in thinking that Mr Gentile is the guest you describe as a toyboy? What makes you call him that? Have you met him before?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I haven’t met this particular incarnation, but I know the type. Maggie’s the same age as I am – although she’d never admit it to you – but she has a hankering for men half her age – with a definite penchant for tattoos, medallions and skintight jeans.’
‘I see. And do the guests all know each other?’
‘I’ve known all of them for quite some time, and most of them know – or know of – each other. I like one or two of them a lot and the others not so much.’
I reflected on that last remark. I couldn’t work out why she should have chosen to invite people if she didn’t like them.
If it turned out that Alice Graceland really was writing her autobiography, I couldn’t help wondering whether any of this weekend’s guests would get a mention in the text.
If so, would that be complimentary or less so?
After all, with a title like Payback, the book might well end up ruffling quite a few feathers.
It seemed unlikely that she would invite guests to her party if she didn’t like them, but stranger things have happened.
Of course, I reminded myself, I might be barking up the wrong tree completely.
Payback struck me as quite a good title for a thriller as well.
As for barking dogs, Oscar had by now subsided onto the floor alongside his new best friend and was lying on his back, all four paws in the air, his tail sweeping the spotless marble floor as he lay there.
Alice looked up from him. ‘I told you I would write him into the plot for tomorrow night, didn’t I? I thought he would make a good sniffer dog. What do you think?’
‘Yes, he’s good at sniffing stuff out.’ I could have added that he was best at sniffing food and other dogs’ backsides, but I left it at that for now.
The famous actor continued to stroke my happy Labrador as she gave me my instructions. ‘The actors for the murder mystery are coming this evening at six. I trust you’ll be able to make it.’
‘Of course. If it’s all right with you, I’ll give Oscar a little walk around the island first and then I need to pop back into town quickly to see somebody on behalf of a friend of mine in Florence.’
She looked up. ‘You’re not thinking of bringing them here, are you? I’d rather not have any more people wandering around, trampling my plants. This weekend’s going to be bad enough.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m just picking up a parcel for a friend. I won’t be away for long and I certainly won’t mention that you’re here.’
I toyed with the idea of asking her what she was writing but then decided that this, just like her efforts to reverse the ageing process, was none of my business, so I returned to the matter in hand.
‘When are the guests arriving?’
‘Mary has the details, but I believe most are arriving tomorrow in the course of the morning, in time for lunch. She’ll show you to your room now, if you like.
’ She finally relinquished Oscar, stood up and gave me some unexpected and unwelcome news.
‘If it isn’t there already, you’ll be getting your costume later today. ’
‘You want me to dress up?’ I hadn’t been expecting this and I had a sinking feeling as the thought struck home. Her answer did nothing to reassure me.
‘We’re all going to dress up.’ She caught my eye. ‘Don’t worry, Valentina tells me she’s confident your costume will fit – she made it after seeing you last week. I’d like you to wear it this evening when the actors come. We’re going to have a full dress rehearsal.’
The sinking feeling had just about reached my feet by now. ‘Dressed up as what?’
‘What do you think? Here in Venice, it has to be Carnevale characters. Renaissance clothes, masks, lots of silk, lace and tassels.’
For Venetians, the February carnival is the high spot of the year, with glittering events, parties, carnival processions on land and water, and the famous masked balls where people travel from all over the world to don masks and join in the celebrations.
I stifled a sigh. With a fiancée who lived and breathed the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, I had already found myself being squeezed – and I do mean squeezed – into tights and pantaloons on several occasions in the past and I was under no illusions as to how ridiculous I looked.
Still, it sounded as though I didn’t have any choice, so I took a deep breath and accepted my fate with as much grace as I could muster.
‘That sounds great. Thank you.’