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Gina hesitated, as though she wanted to say something more, but all she said was, ‘Good luck today.’

‘Thank you,’ Marco said. They looked at one another for a long moment, a cool breeze blowing off the Adriatic, the taste of sea salt on their lips. Seagulls wheeled high overhead, calling their mournful cries, as the water lapped incessantly at the rocky island. Then Gina seemed to gather herself, walking off towards the helipad, as Marco balled his hands into fists, releasing the breath that he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

‘Gina, wait,’ he called after her. He thought she might just keep walking, pretend she hadn’t heard him, but she stopped and turned around as he tried in vain to read her expression. He jogged to catch up with her, unsure what he was going to say, but knowing he needed to speak to her.

‘Please, Marco,’ she said. ‘Don’t make this any harder than it is.’

‘Why does it have to be so hard? I don’t understand.’

‘You don’t need to understand. You just need to respect my wishes.’

For some reason her words felt hollow, like she didn’t really mean them, and he needed to have one last try. He would never forgive himself if he let her slip through his fingers, and he needed to tell her how he felt. ‘Gina, please, just one request. Later, once all of this –’ he gestured vaguely at all the commotion behind them – ‘is out of the way, can we speak?’

‘There’s nothing to talk about, Marco.’ She was unreadable.

‘Please. Look, you said your piece the other day. I’d like to say mine, and if you still feel the same afterwards, then fine, I won’t bother you again. But it’s only fair to hear me out.’

Gina hesitated, but eventually said, ‘OK. We can talk later. Come to my office, and don’t … don’t let anyone see you.’

Marco frowned, wondering why the need for secrecy, but he would have agreed to any conditions to meet Gina.

She was about to leave, then touched him lightly on the arm. ‘I really mean it, stay safe out there, OK?’ she said softly, before walking away.

Marco stared after her, feeling as though his arm was on fire from where she’d touched his jacket, and the simple gesture had lit a spark of hope within him. But right now he needed to focus. Everyone was wishing him good luck – but this job wasn’t about luck.

Up in her penthouse suite, Lucia de Santis looked down over the action. She’d spent the morning watching the preparations as she sipped her hot water and got ready for the day, the buzz of excitement reaching all the way up to her top-floor window.

Some crew members from Elicotteri Conti were gathering around the helicopter and setting up equipment, as others spoke into walkie-talkies, monitoring the sky and the weather conditions. Lucia spotted Marco and gave a catlike smile, enjoying the feeling of observing him from above without his knowledge, appreciating his strong, powerful body as he moved, knowing that he was at the centre of the action today. If Davide wasn’t in the picture, she’d consider Marco as a serious prospect. But he would do for now, for a little fun.

He appeared to be nervous, pacing back and forth anxiously, and Lucia watched as he greeted his brother-in-law. Even from up here, she could discern how awkward and tense their body language was. She remembered everything that Edoardo had said to her that night in the Casanova Bar, about the animosity between the two men, and Edoardo’s claim that Marco had been responsible for his wife’s death.

Lucia put on her lipstick, emphasizing her Cupid’s bow with a dazzling shade of red, and noticed that another, older man had arrived. He headed over to speak to Marco and Edoardo, and Lucia turned away to spritz herself with Coco by Chanel perfume. When she came back to her spot by the window, she saw that Gina had appeared on the scene. A bolt of white-hot fury shot through her. Gina looked stunning, classic and understated in a way that Lucia never was and never would be. She and Marco were talking – it looked intense – and Lucia felt an intense wave of jealousy, a feeling that reminded her of how she’d felt many years ago, the sense of being left out and feeling the need to be the centre of attention.

So, Gina thought she could go back on their agreement and imagined Lucia wouldn’t find out about it? Lucia needed to teach her a lesson. Marco was hers – for now at least, until Davide saw the light – and Lucia had no intention of being jilted for Gina. What did Marco see in her? Lucia was rich, famous, beautiful, celebrated – Gina was a functionary, a nobody.

A movement below caught her eye, and Lucia tore her gaze away from Gina and Marco. On the terrace outside the Casanova Bar, Detective Gallo was sitting down with a cup of coffee. He positioned himself near the balcony, clearly preparing to watch the filming. He wasn’t the only one to have that idea, and he struggled to find a spot as the tables filled up with gawping hotel guests.

Lucia looked back towards the helicopter and saw Gina reach out and touch Marco’s arm. Lucia let out a strangled cry of fury. How dare she! Their agreement was clear – Gina was to stay away from Marco, or else she might find her little secret exposed to the world, with all its consequences. Well, now she would have to face those consequences.

Lucia strode purposefully away from the window, pulling on her shearling aviator jacket and heading for the elevator. Detective Gallo would be delighted to discover that La Leonessa’s memory had suddenly returned with a vengeance. She was going to tell him everything she knew – and she was going to destroy Gina Bellini in the process.

Chapter 33

Detective Gallo lit up an MS cigarette and inhaled, the grey smoke drifting up into the cloudless Venetian sky.

The Casanova Bar terrace was almost full, with guests taking afternoon coffee and watching the preparations for the filming. It was all very exciting, with the crew rushing around, scribbling on clipboards and setting up equipment, pretending not to notice everyone’s curious glances. He was certainly a long way from Cannegia now, Detective Gallo thought, with the beauty of Venice across the water and the excitement of a Hollywood movie set within touching distance.

But of course, he wasn’t here as a tourist, and he couldn’t let himself be distracted by the glamorous comings and goings. He shifted in his seat, staring up at the White Palace, at the beautiful, enormous, ancient palazzo situated high on the rocky green island jutting out of the sea. He felt sure that the answers he was looking for were somehow connected to the hotel, but pieces of the puzzle were still missing.

Roberto was still berating himself for the way he’d dealt with Lucia de Santis. He’d been so certain that she had the answers; all the circumstances fitted. He should have formally brought her in for questioning, but he’d gone rushing in, so certain that his theory was foolproof. And then she’d given that ill-advised press conference – clearly all done so that she could bask in the resultant publicity. Her name being linked to a mysterious case kept her name in the newspapers, Detective Gallo thought cynically, as he took a sip of his coffee.

If someone out there did know something more, the blaze of publicity would surely have given them time to go to ground, to disappear once again before Detective Gallo could even get on their trail. Or perhaps, he thought optimistically, the press coverage would have a positive effect and generate a breakthrough, jogging someone’s memory.

‘Hello again, Inspector. Mind if I join you? It’s rather busy today.’

He glanced up to see Olivia Booth beaming down at him. She was wearing a lavender trouser suit with a quilted cream jacket, and leaning heavily on her stick.

‘Of course, of course.’ He stood up hastily, pulling out the chair opposite him, noticing that almost all the tables were now taken.