This time, Mary kindly asked Diego to take a different route so that I could see more of the city, and we headed off in the opposite direction. After passing underneath a distinctly modern-looking curved footbridge, we turned left into a narrower canal. The buildings here were far from medieval, and it was clear that this was a more modern, predominantly commercial area, and I even spotted a few cars and vans driving alongside us for a while.
A few minutes later, we emerged from the canal into a much wider waterway with the long island of Giudecca to our right and a line of superyachts moored to our left alongside quays that were a reminder – if one were needed – of Venice’s illustriouspast as a naval power. Ahead of us was the long, low outline of the Lido and, between us and it, theIsola dei Cigni. Sight of Alice Graceland’s island brought me back to why I was here, and I turned towards Mary, who was sitting stroking Oscar’s ears, a blissful expression on his face.
We had gone into the cabin to get out of the burning sun, and I was sitting opposite Mary on one of the smart, red-cushioned benches. ‘Am I right in thinking that the only way to get to Miss Graceland’s island is by private boat? It’s not on a regular bus stop, is it?’ I stopped and corrected myself. ‘Sorry, not bus, boat.’
‘We’re not that far from the main route taken by thevaporetti– that’s the name the locals give to the passenger ferries – going to and from the Lido, but none of them stop at the island. So, yes, you either need your own boat or you take a water taxi.’
‘This may be a stupid question, but how deep is the water around the island?’
‘I’ve no idea, but it’s certainly deep enough for fairly big ships to come past not that far off the island.’
‘As a means to get away from the paparazzi, it’s a perfect solution. I wonder if Miss Graceland will stay here indefinitely.’
‘It wouldn’t surprise me. On the occasions when she’s spoken about her past, I’ve definitely got the impression that her career hasn’t all been plain sailing, in spite of her phenomenal success. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if there are quite a few skeletons in her cupboard that she would be happy to leave behind and never see again.’ She paused for a moment’s reflection. ‘She probably deserves a bit of peace and quiet – and I can’t think of many better places to do that than an island in the Venice lagoon.’
‘She told me she’d had a fractious relationship with the media. I couldn’t find a social media presence for her. I would have thought you’d handle that sort of thing for her.’
‘That was one of the first things I offered to do, but she wasdead against it. She’s quite old-fashioned about that sort of thing, even though she looks and sounds so youthful.’
I reflected on what Mary had said. Alice Graceland’s career had been meteoric, but success probably hadn’t come as easily as one might assume. Social media can be brutal, and I didn’t blame her one bit for choosing to steer clear of it. Maybe her choice of a fortress on an island had not been by chance. As Mary had said, here, amid the beauty of the Venice lagoon, she should be able to relax – or at least she would be able to, once this murder mystery weekend was over.
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 histop 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’dseen – 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 menhalf 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 likePayback, 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.Paybackstruck 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.
