I had no further time to chat to Diego as Alice herself put in an appearance. She was looking drop-dead gorgeous in her formal Renaissance costume of cream silk gown and gold mask. I hastily pulled down my mask and doffed my floppy hat as I bowed low towards her.
‘Donna Alicia, good evening. May I say that you look wonderful tonight?’
Oscar at my side obviously agreed as he started wagging his tail enthusiastically.
She extended an elegant hand sheathed in a lace glove towards me and I duly kissed it. She then transferred her attention to Oscar and bent down to make a fuss of him. ‘How smart you look tonight with your bow, Oscar.’ I kept a close eye on him in case he might decide to jump up and make a mess of her dress, but he behaved like a true gentleman and limited himself to kissing her gloved hands just as I had done. I had a feeling he was a bit troubled by the fact that we were wearing masks, but thishadn’t stopped him recognising her immediately. She straightened up again and looked around. ‘My guests don’t appear to be in a hurry to come and join the fun.’
‘They’re probably still recovering from that wonderful lunch.’ There was nobody else in sight so I thought I would take a chance. ‘Can I ask you something, Alice? Is it just my impression or are some of the people not exactly thrilled to be here?’
She laughed. ‘What a wonderfully English way of putting it. I should have known that an expert detective like you would have picked up on that. You’re quite right, there are definitely some of my guests who would rather be somewhere else.’
She was sounding quite relaxed, so I thought I would push my luck a little bit more. ‘And maybe one or two of them aren’t your favourite people in the whole world?’
‘Right again, Sherlock.’ I distinctly saw her do a full 360-degree survey of her surroundings before continuing. ‘They all have one thing in common, and I bet you don’t know what it is – not just that they all come from the world of showbiz.’
I decided to take a stab at it. ‘I couldn’t help noticing a manuscript on your desk. Might that have something to do with these people?’
She reached over and gripped my forearm. ‘Selena was right. You are a great detective.’ She sounded impressed. ‘The answer, Dan, is yes. I hit sixty a couple of years ago, and I’ve taken time out to sit down and write my autobiography. And I really have written it myself. No ghostwriter for me.’
‘And your guests here tonight all feature in the book?’ She nodded her head, and I carried on. ‘Not necessarily favourably?’
‘You could say that.’ Her tone was more serious now and, even though I couldn’t see her face beneath her mask, I could tell that she was in the prey of powerful emotions. ‘When I sat down to write my book, I knew I was going to dig up a lot of memories,and I knew that not all of them would be pleasant. The people I’ve invited here this weekend all play parts in my autobiography and I wanted to be able to sit down with each of them and give them a chance to explain and maybe apologise for certain things that took place. A lot of bad stuff happened in the past, and if I get the feeling that some people are genuinely sorry for what happened, then I intend to cut them out of the book and save them any embarrassment.’ Her voice hardened. ‘As for the ones who aren’t prepared to say they’re sorry, I intend to blow them out of the water. They deserve it.’
I stood there and took stock while Oscar, clearly picking up the emotion in her voice, leant against her leg and stared up at her with a concerned expression on his face. A thought occurred to me. ‘What was your reasoning behind deciding to do a murder mystery weekend? Could it be that the roles you’ve assigned to your guests bear a resemblance to how they behaved in real life?’
‘Exactly.’ I couldn’t see her face but I could hear satisfaction in her voice. ‘Just in case they have any doubts, I’ve deliberately marked down on the cards that I’ll be distributing in a minute some unmistakable parallels between the historical characters they’ll be playing tonight and what each of them has done in real life. And for the avoidance of any doubt, I’ve had copies of the first draft of the manuscript made, and Mary’s going to deliver them to each of the rooms in the course of this evening. By tomorrow morning, nobody’s going to be under any illusions as to why they’re here. That’ll be when I sit down with each of them and see how they react.’
I reflected on her words. ‘I would imagine it’s safe to say that tomorrow’s going to be an uncomfortable day for your guests and for you. In fact, I imagine the brighter guests will probably be able to work out from the cards you give them this evening what’s in the back of your mind.’ Remembering what Diego had justtold me about the rows after lunch, I hazarded a guess. ‘Or maybe some of them already have.’ Not for the first time, I felt a twinge of foreboding. Hopefully, tonight’s murder mystery wouldn’t turn out to be a disaster – or worse.
She didn’t respond but I sensed, more than saw, the slightest movement of her head indicating that I was right. I pushed my mask up onto my forehead so she could see my face, in particular my eyes. ‘The next twenty-four hours are going to be very stressful for you. Are you sure you’re ready for that?’
She nodded decisively. ‘I’m ready.’ She picked up a small envelope from the table beside her and handed it to me. ‘Good luck with your investigation, Chief Inspector. I’ve a feeling you’ll work it out. If not, here’s the answer just in case.’ She turned her head slightly and lowered her voice. ‘Here come the first of my guests now.’
I followed the direction of her masked face and saw the unmistakable, white-haired figure of Desmond Norman approaching. He was wearing a scary black and red mask, and his clothes were all made of black satin. He could have been a medieval undertaker or a sinister jailer. It was easy to imagine him heating a red-hot poker in a brazier ready for a gruesome torture session. Reflecting back on what Alice had just told me, I couldn’t help thinking that the next few hours might well turn out to be torture for at least some of the guests.
Over the course of the next hour, the guests all assembled in their costumes that ranged from the outrageously revealing and decadent gown made up of pink silk, pearls and gold thread worn by Maggie McBride, to the all-white tunic, pantaloons and tights worn by Freddie Baker, now looking considerably shorterwithout his ridiculous gold shoes. The women all looked very glamorous, even Lucy O’Connell, whose costume and mask conveniently concealed her worn and ravaged complexion, and whose wimple covered her unkempt hair, giving her an almost ecclesiastical look. Champagne was served, and it came as no surprise to see Jack Sloane once again doing his best to empty any bottle he found. Freddie Baker stuck to mineral water and I stuck to beer – and not too much of it. After what Alice had told me, I felt sure this was going to be an interesting evening, and I wanted to be in command of my faculties so as to observe it.
At exactly seven o’clock, Alice tapped a glass with a spoon and silence fell across the terrace. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, before dinner is served, I promised that I would give you all cards with details of your characters, along with some clues for you to pass on to other guests over the course of the evening. As it’s a beautiful night, we intend to serve dinner outside, and you’re free to sit wherever you like. In order that you can all have the opportunity to mingle, I will ask you to change tables every now and then as the meal progresses so that by the end, you should have had the opportunity to talk to as many people as possible. Once the murder has taken place, Dan here, that’s Don Daniele, the Magistrate, will gather you together and give you each the chance to offer your solution to the mystery. I hope that’s clear. Now, to animate the evening, here are some other participants who have come along to help you in your investigations.’
The door to the dining room opened, and the actors trooped out one by one and, as they did so, Alice introduced them – particularly the Doge and his half-brother – to the guests. She didn’t introduce the guests to the actors by name and I wondered how many of them would be recognised in the course of the evening. Hidden as they were beneath their Renaissance costumes and masks, it would be hard to identify the celebrities.Besides, I reminded myself, the only immediately recognisable faces among the guests were probably the two actors and possibly Carlos Rodriguez and Freddie Baker, the famous directors. I presumed that the faces of the others would probably be as unfamiliar to the locally recruited actors as they had been to me.
Alice moved around among the guests, handing out individual cards to each of them. I did my best to scrutinise the people as they read what was on their cards, but the masks made it almost impossible for me to see any of the faces. There were a few exceptions. Desmond Norman, the octogenarian film producer, pushed his mask up onto his forehead and dug out a pair of reading glasses from the hidden recesses of his pantaloons, perched them on his nose and studied his card intently. As he did so, I distinctly saw him straighten up and even in the twilight beneath the arbour, as the sun headed for the horizon, I felt sure I saw his face flush. Whether this was with anger, embarrassment, or fear was impossible to tell, but clearly his opinion of our hostess hadn’t improved since lunchtime.
Alastair Groves didn’t remove his mask, so I couldn’t see his facial features, but from the way he froze for almost a minute before raising the card to barely a few inches in front of his face so he could study it letter by letter, I had little doubt that whatever was on there had come as a considerable shock to him. His wife reached over and almost jerked it out of his hand so she could study it closely. A bit further along, I saw Carlos Rodriguez react in a similar way, holding out his card towards Greg Gupta, clearly stunned by what he’d read. The others were impossible to judge except for Jack Sloane, who also needed the assistance of reading glasses and had to remove his mask to read the card. His already flushed face turned the most unhealthy puce colour, and I saw him empty his glass in one and reach out for another from a conveniently positioned tray.Something he had read had definitely come as a considerable shock to him.
I took a sip of beer and settled back to see what happened next. Just as it says on boxes of fireworks,light blue touch paper and stand well clear. The games had started – by which I mean, not only the murder mystery game, but also the far more serious one being played by our hostess.
14
SATURDAY NIGHT
A few minutes later, Valentina, her daughter and her son appeared and began to circulate with plates of nibbles. Mary, who was standing alongside me, told me that these were what the Venetians calledcicchetti, Venice’s answer to tapas. These bite-sized delicacies were amazing. There were slices of bread, some topped with bresaola, some with smoked salmon, and others with asparagus tips paired with quails’ eggs. There were slices of polenta topped with melted cheese as well as grilled prawns and scallops on cocktail sticks. There were tiny grilled sausages and meatballs, served together with deep-fried soft-shell crabs. I wasn’t the only one to be blown away by them. Alice made a point of accidentally on purpose dropping various titbits onto the ground in front of my ever-hungry dog, and I could almost hear him sighing with delight. I hoped his digestive system would be able to cope. I was, after all, sharing a room with him tonight.
Remembering what Alice had told me, I manoeuvred Mary over to one side, where we couldn’t be overheard, and spoke quietly to her. ‘I understand from Alice that you’re going to bedistributing some reading material later this evening. Have you had a chance to look at it?’
When she replied, her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘That’s why I was a bit late getting out here. Miss Graceland just gave me the manuscripts ten minutes ago. By the way, there’s one there for you as well, but she’s told me not to deliver them to the rooms until nine o’clock. I’ve just had a very quick flick through the pages, and it’s what people thought it might be: her autobiography.’ She leant a little closer to my ear. ‘She certainly doesn’t pull any punches. Assuming it’s all true, this is going to cause a monumental furore in Hollywood.’
‘And would I be right in thinking that the guests here tonight are her prime targets?’
