Chapter Forty-One
‘Order, order!’ I boom. Not because the book club is acting out of order, in fact, they’re sitting quietly. It’s more that I’ve always wanted to convene a meeting that way.
‘Welcome, one and all.’ I’m relishing my role as team leader.
I’m not quite sure I can call myself a detective at this juncture since there is no detecting being done, but that’s not for lack of want, it’s from a lack of time and dealing with the curve ball of the Portuguese mothers.
Not only did they meet up for lunch but they went wedding-dress shopping, took one of poor Tiago’s cousins who is similar in size to me and had her trying on froufrou meringue-style dresses, while they sipped champagne and took happy snaps which they sent to both Tiago and me.
This is what they’re like. The poor saleswoman in the bridal shop had no idea that the bride was a stand-in, and there is no engagement, only a fake-dating disaster that’s spiralled out of all control.
We’re at Taberna dos Mercadores, a cosy little tucked-away eatery where we can talk freely, because, quite honestly, I need the social lubrication of a stiff drink, even though it’s against my usual principles to consume alcohol in times of high stress.
I motion the book club to shuffle in. Obviously, we still have to keep our conversation quiet just in case.
I also don’t want another Zeliá dilemma on my hands.
I can’t go around fake dating men every time there’s a whisper of gossip around Porto.
I have standards when it comes to just how far I’m willing to go to save Lucinda from her fate.
‘I have good news and bad news. Tiago, our esteemed tech God, found out the missing man is indeed The Man in the Blue Beret AKA Jo?o Silva.’ I halt for the requisite gasps and am pleased when they come. ‘Bad news is, he’s been found alive.’
‘That’s bad news?’ Thomas asks, with a curious frown.
‘Well, depends whose side you’re on.’
‘Wait, he’s been found? When? I didn’t get any Google Alerts,’ Zephyr says.
‘Early this morning, the Porto News released an article. Didn’t say much, just that the man was working at his new job and didn’t inform his family of his whereabouts. And apparently, he was none too happy about the invasion of his privacy.’
‘Was he purposely ignoring his family?’ old Albert asks. ‘Because why else did it drag on so long?’
‘He claims he emailed them to let them know he was fine, but they say no such email arrived.’ I throw up my palms, but it’s no surprise technology is once again at fault.
‘Sus,’ Zephyr says. ‘It sounds like he didn’t want to be found, more like.’
I nod.
‘So, who is The Man in the Blue Beret?’ Thomas asks, scratching his chin.
‘Tiago, you can answer this.’
‘Well, that’s where it gets interesting,’ Tiago says. ‘His new role is “business manager”. I can’t find much about him online, which is weird these days, but what I have found points to him being involved in the arts.’
‘Makes sense with that beret,’ Zephyr says.
‘Creative industries, mostly. Marketing. He’s moved around a lot in various departments.’
‘Marketing.’ Zephyr’s brow furrows. ‘Is he linked to Lucinda’s focus group then? Do they work together?’
‘Did you and Zephyr manage to find anything?’ Tiago asks old Albert.
Old Albert’s rheumy eyes light up. ‘We sure did. We found out Lucinda’s full name and where she lives.’
‘How did you do that?’ I gasp.
‘Old Albert charmed the woman from the queijaria next door into giving up the information. He played the part of a have-a-chat old man very well.’
Old Albert guffaws. ‘Have-a-chat old man? What! I was playing the part of charming, articulate, seasoned gentleman, thank you very much.’
‘Riiight. Anyway, we spent the evening eating our body weight in her artisanal cheeses and drinking port and soon she wouldn’t shut up. Doesn’t exactly love Lucinda, you see.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because she won’t modernise the pastelaria. Won’t help put the Rua dos Mercadores on the map. Wants to keep it quiet whereas the other businesses want to make the street more inviting, more vibrant, in the hopes tourists will flock there.’
‘I get that. Lucinda likes it peaceful, but it can’t be a healthy business. So, who is Lucinda? And who is her husband? Where do they live?’
‘Her name is Lucinda Neves. She lives on Rua da Arménia in Miragaia. And here’s the twist, as far as we can tell she’s not married.’
‘Wait. She’s not married?’ I say. ‘Then how can she kill her husband six different ways! This is an outrage.’
Zephyr shakes her head. ‘According to the woman from the queijaria Lucinda’s been in a long-term relationship for twenty or so years but isn’t married.’
‘They gave those private details out, just like that?’ I am impressed and horrified all at once.
‘No, old Albert fooled them again. We went to the Civil Registry offices when it was lunchtime, so hardly any staff were present. Old Albert made a huge song and dance pretending to have a fall, talked about suing them, how inept medical institutions are around the world, that kind of thing, and while the staff member helped him, I got into the computer. I’m Gen Z, it wasn’t exactly hard to navigate. ’
Old Albert sighs. ‘Her life is a screen. It is what it is.’
I bite back a smile while I process this new information. ‘And you confirmed Lucinda has never been married, not at all.’ This doesn’t make any sense.
‘Confirmed. But you gotta admit, it’s quicker to write “Six ways to kill my husband” than “Six ways to kill my long-term significant other”, so maybe that’s all it was.’
‘It’s definitely catchier,’ Tiago confirms with short sharp nods.
‘Have you been to her house? What’s it like?’ My mind races with all the news.
Old Albert puckers his lips and strokes his jaw as he recalls it. ‘Unassuming. There’s not much green space for someone who said she enjoyed pottering around in her garden.’
‘It seems that Lucinda is quite the enigma. And no sign of her significant other there?’ I query.
Old Albert shakes his head. ‘None. The place looked a bit abandoned. Shuttered up.’
‘You’re dying to see it, aren’t you?’ Zephyr asks.
‘Positively.’
‘Book club trip!’
We huddle under a tree in front of Lucinda’s house.
It’s not what I thought it would be. It’s not at all glamourous the way she is.
For some reason I expected her home to be shiny glass, immaculate gardens, more opulent than it is.
It’s just a regular villa in a regular neighbourhood.
The garden is more of a small terrace with a few pot plants and a seating area.
Not a hydrangea in sight. ‘Huh’, is all I manage.
‘Not fancy, is it?’ Zephyr says. ‘Makes sense though if the pastelaria isn’t making huge money.’
‘Yes.’ The outside of the villa is neat and tidy, definitely looks like the home of a homebody or someone who is house proud with the little touches like bunting lights and garden ornaments. The windows are shuttered so nothing to give us any clues there.
‘Did you knock on the door?’ I ask.
Zephyr shakes her head. ‘No, we wanted to wait for you guys. Only seems fair to do this together.’
‘Thanks.’ I smile. Just what might we find on the opposite side of that door? ‘OK, so who offers to be tribute?’
‘I’ll go,’ Thomas says bravely. ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’
If it were my door, there’s a very real chance he’d be beaten back with the cordless vacuum because I don’t appreciate a drop-in. ‘Who knows what lies beyond?’
‘I’ll take my chances.’
‘So brave!’ Tiago says with a laugh.
‘You can go with him,’ I say, and his laughter falls away.
‘Yes, yes, happy to. Was going to suggest it.’
They go to the door and knock. We’re collectively holding our breath. And …
There’s no answer.
They knock again and press the doorbell. They are risking being batted away with a broom.
‘Nothing?’
They return to the shade.
‘Well, I suggest we keep an eye on the place. See if there are any changes. Lights on, mail stuffed in the letterbox that’s cleared the next day, that sort of thing.’
We stare at the house. ‘I just expected she had some mansion, and the bad guy had all this money from nefarious reasons … this is a little underwhelming,’ Zephyr says. I hate to agree with her. This is just a normal residential home, in fact, it looks downright cosy, where only good things happen.