London (27 page)

Caro had indeed gone up the old service staircase. Sebastian had lost her for a moment, and by the time he'd discovered the staircase and followed her up, she'd hit Agnieszka on the back of her head and was ready to do the same to Ellie.

But how had she known that Ellie and Agnieszka were upstairs? Pure chance, it seemed. As I'd deduced from my investigations, Jane was not the only guilty party involved in Clarissa's death. Caro had had a role to play too. And so, spooked by my threat to bring in the police, she had gone up to look in her sister's desk and remove any evidence that could have pointed to her own part in the murder. She must have feared that, along with the photos and medical files, Clarissa might have kept news clippings about the broken engagement, evidence of the bad blood between them. Jealousy, after all, is a strong motive, and it had certainly motivated Caro to help Jane with her sinister plan. But as she was heading to Clarissa's room, Caro had instead spotted my friends.

In any case, she wouldn't have found anything in the desk. She didn't know that Georgie had been through it thoroughly in the last few weeks (and I certainly hadn't seen anything in it when I'd quickly looked on Thursday evening).

We all watched as Jane and Caro were taken from the house in handcuffs. “Johnny” accompanied the police too. He would have to help with the formalities of the arrests. And he'd have his hands full preparing for the press once the story leaked out.

Georgie and Agnieszka were taken to the hospital to be checked out. Although Georgie had only fainted, she'd hit her head hard on the hall floor.

Luckily Sebastian had been able to warn Ellie before she got a knock to the head too, catching up just as Caro was moving toward her, a heavy vase in hand. As soon as she heard Sebastian shout, Ellie had unleashed her new martial arts moves. The loud thud we'd heard was Caro hitting the floor. And while Sebastian secured Caro upstairs (with, of all things, a curtain tie-back that he'd taken from one of the bedroom windows while holding Caro with her arms twisted behind her back), Ellie had run downstairs to find me—which was when she'd frightened Georgie into fainting.

As we all left the house, I couldn't help asking Mr. Rivera how he'd known to come to the rescue with the police. He laughed. “Simple. I looked through the windows and saw trouble was brewing. I doubt anyone else on the street would have noticed. You know, nowadays neighbors don't have the time to look out for one another or be nosy like we used to. But I saw some lights on, I saw Jane's face, and I watched as Caro got up and left the library. It didn't look good.”

Ellie, Sebastian, Halley, and I watched as the police cars and ambulance drove off. I thanked Mr. Rivera, and after a while, he walked home. Then we turned and looked back at the house.

“It's hard to imagine that so much was going on in there just a short while ago, isn't it?” Ellie asked.

Sebastian and I nodded. The house stood quiet and dark, and the four large rooftop eagles watched us in stony silence as we turned and left.

• • •

“So how exactly did Clarissa die?” Sebastian asked.

I'd dropped Halley off at home and quickly fed her before Ellie, Sebastian, and I headed to the Lucky Seven Diner around the corner.

I bit into a hot fry and said, “Well, she was pushed by Jane—although she'd had Caro's help. What Jane didn't know was that Georgie had heard her threatening Clarissa before she pushed her. Georgie may not have been able to understand precisely what Jane was saying, but she certainly understood the tone of her voice.”

“How awful!” Ellie said.

I nodded. “Jane obviously never expected four-year-old Georgie to hear her—she was supposed to have been asleep—or to have remembered.”

“And how did Caro help?” Sebastian asked.

“Remember how you asked what could have gotten Clarissa out of bed when everyone knew she would usually be resting?”

Sebastian nodded.

“Well, that got me thinking, because you actually had a good point, Watson.”

“Thank you, Holmes. Can I have that in writing?”

“No.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Anyway…why did Clarissa, who was at that point dressed in her robe and in the middle of her downtime, suddenly dress up and head downstairs? Perhaps if there was an emergency or, more specifically, an emergency call of some sort? And that jibed with what Mr. Rivera told me about Caro's movements just before and just after her sister's death. Plus I'd noticed the phone next to Clarissa's bed—one of two in the house. She'd have answered if it had rung.”

“And that's why you asked Agnieszka how many phones were in the house and where—and why you had me check on the neighborhood phone boxes.”

I nodded. “Once I had the idea of a phone call, the next logical step was to see if there was a pay phone an easy five-minute walk from the Vane house—and there was.”

“But why not just knock on Clarissa's door or call her downstairs?”

“Because that would have been too risky. Jane wanted to scare Clarissa without anyone else being in the house—and in such a manner that it would look like an accident. Pushing her down some stairs that were known to be slippery and dangerous was an obvious choice, and with Clarissa dressed to go out, it could look as if she'd been in a rush to get somewhere. And Jane's timing was perfect, because the housekeeper was shopping at two thirty p.m., the maid had left for the day, and Mr. Rivera was busy outside. But how could Jane persuade Clarissa to leave her bedroom at precisely that time? She needed to give Clarissa a reason that couldn't be ignored.”

“So Caro called with a fake emergency?” Ellie asked.

I nodded. “Yes. And Clarissa answered, believed whatever lie she was fed, dressed, and ran down the stairs. Georgie said Jane was waiting for her mother on the landing. She heard Jane go down just before she heard her mother—only Jane didn't go down all the way.”

“And…?” Sebastian asked.

“And as she pushed Clarissa, Jane must have said something horrible or threatening, or both. Like I said, Georgie didn't understand the actual words, but she was certain whose voice it was—and the tone of that voice—right before she heard her mother scream.”

Ellie shook herself. “That's so nasty. Wow. What an evil woman.”

I nodded. “You should have looked into her eyes. She looked psychotic by the time the police arrived. Of course, Jane didn't kill Johnny. The Thames did. But then afterward she chose to deceive everyone.”

“I wonder if Clarissa would really have fired her if she'd thought Johnny had died rather than Julian.”

“We'll never know. But in any case, what's important is that Jane clearly believed Clarissa would have fired her. And that was a risk she absolutely refused to take.”

“But what about Caro in all of this? Why didn't she do more to protect the kids? How come she didn't notice anything when Jane switched the boys? I mean, didn't she know her nephews better than that?”

“Better than what? Their mother? I doubt it. Caro was too busy riding on Clarissa's coattails to notice the kids. She was partying, traveling, and trying to make a name for herself in the fashion world. And don't forget that at the time the real Johnny died, she was heartbroken over Clarissa stealing her fiancé from her.”

“You don't think Clarissa purposefully intended to hurt her sister by having the affair, do you?” Ellie asked as she bit into her lentil-melt veggie burger.

“Probably not as much as she did. Of course, she had the affair before she cleaned herself up, so to be fair, perhaps her judgment wasn't at its best. Then again, what matters isn't what Clarissa thought, but what Caro thought. She was already jealous of her sister, so losing her fiancé and first great love to the sister she was already envious of must have eaten at her insides, day and night. From what I gathered when the police were questioning her, she fell in pretty quickly with Jane's scheme to scare Clarissa, although for Caro, it was more about revenge. Neither of them really expected her to die—or at least that's what they're saying now.”

“So Caro must have been surprised when she returned to the house and discovered her sister was dead,” Ellie said.

I nodded. “Of course, by then it was too late for her to say anything. She'd done the deed and made the call. She was a vital accomplice to Jane's crime.”

“And the police didn't think to ask her where she'd been or what she'd been doing?” Sebastian asked.

“Not really. Like Mr. Rivera said, she was often dashing in and out of the house, although perhaps not from the side door, but that didn't seem particularly strange. And the fact that Mr. Rivera saw her leave and return—so she was clearly not in the house when Clarissa fell—was all the police were really interested in at that time.”

“And when did Georgie notice her mother's belongings? The secret drawer in the desk, the medical records, all that stuff?” Ellie asked.

“Mr. Rivera told us from the beginning that the family rarely visited the house. However, he'd seen Georgie go in twice in the last month. I started wondering why. Why her? And what did she do when she was there? Taking the little of what I knew about her character into account—she's quiet and secretive—I thought she was probably looking for something. And once I saw what a time warp the house was in, I felt even more certain that was the case.”

“So that's why you looked at Clarissa's desk when we were in her bedroom. But you didn't find anything in there, did you?”

“It was exactly because I found nothing in it—well, that and the fact that the thin layer of dust had been wiped clean around the drawer—that made me think my theory was right. Georgie had been searching for something, and the empty drawer made me believe she'd found it. She admitted as much when we spoke in the garden this morning. She said she just couldn't take the nightmares anymore, that she had to find out if what she thought she remembered was real.”

“I wonder what will happen to Johnny Vane's company,” Ellie said. “Will he keep the name Johnny, do you think?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I suppose. After all, it's been his name for most of his life now. Don't forget how young he was when the accident in the Thames happened. The shock of what happened that day must have left him immensely vulnerable to Jane's manipulation. I overheard him crying at the end of the police interview earlier, you know, saying that Jane had always been the mother he felt he'd never really had.

“He would have done—and did do—whatever Jane asked him to do. So when she asked him to wear gloves, and when she told him to answer to the name of Johnny from then on and said that it would be better for the two of them, he didn't ask any questions. He just buried the memories and went along with her. He was as dependent on her love as she was on his.

“Although he might feel differently now. But I think it will take him some time to get over this betrayal and deception. Georgie has been untangling it over a long period of time, but for Johnny, it's all quite fresh—even if the knowledge has been buried inside him all this time.”

“So the gloves he always wears,” Ellie asked, “that was Jane's idea?”

“Originally, yes. But perhaps after a while they just made him feel safe. In his head he probably couldn't let go of the fact that Jane had made him wear the gloves. And then, of course, they became part of his ‘look.'”

Sebastian and I filled Ellie in on what we'd been doing the last few days, until after a while the three of us were too tired to go on. The buzz of the evening's excitement had worn off, leaving us barely able to speak.

Ellie and Sebastian walked me home and then continued on their way in a taxi. I'd be seeing Ellie at the Marc Jacobs show the next day, and I had plans to meet up with Sebastian afterward.

I was so tired and relieved to be safely back home that even my mom's sudden appearance on the landing outside my bedroom didn't scare me. She was not happy about the phone call she'd received from the police concerning my activities, and she let me know in no uncertain terms that she and my dad would have some strong words to say to me about foolishly putting myself in such a dangerous position.

“You should have told me everything from the start, Axelle,” Mom said.

I remained silent—after all, what could I say?

After my mom left, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and slipped into bed. I fell asleep before you could say Mulberry, with my arm around Halley's snoring warmth.

Picnics and Plans

“Axelle?”

Someone was calling my name. And it sounded as if they were calling from the end of a tunnel somewhere underground, deep, deep in the earth's core. Who was it? And how did they get there?

“Axelle?” I heard it again—only this time it was not coming from the deep, deep center of the earth. The voice was, in fact, only inches from my face, and it was coming from someone who should have known better: my mom.

She'd peeled my duvet away from my face and was peering at me.

“Mom, honestly, if you'd like you can use the magnifying glass on my desk. You might be able to see me better.”

“Good morning to you too, Axelle. And there's no reason to get mouthy with me.”

“Mom, do you think we could just backtrack a bit and pretend this isn't happening? Don't you have a client to see or something?” Now she was pulling up the blinds on my windows. I flipped onto my stomach and buried my face in my pillow as the sun streamed into my room.

“Actually, Axelle, you're the one with an appointment. Tallulah is here to see you. She's downstairs.”

I sat up. Tallulah?
Argh!
I'd completely forgotten that I'd agreed to see her this morning! We'd made the appointment late last night on the phone. I'd been eager to find out how Gavin was doing. But by the time I'd finished with the police it had been too late to meet her, and I'd been too tired to do anything beyond eating a burger and rehashing the case with Ellie and Sebastian. Tallulah and I had set the time for ten this morning—and I'd completely forgotten.

I sprang out of bed and watched with amusement as Halley buried herself deeper into my duvet.

“And don't forget you have the Marc Jacobs show at noon!” Mom called as she went down the stairs.

I rushed to my bathroom and showered as quickly as I could.
No time to dry my hair
, I thought. Another day, another tumbleweed. Well, if models all had perfect hair, there'd be no work for hairstylists, now would there?

In fact
, I thought, as I watched my hair start to frizz,
the hairstylists of the fashion world owe me!

I dressed quickly. Today's outfit consisted of a short, striped top, boyish gray pants that looked really cute (I thought so anyway) tucked into my black Doc Martins, and—I think it was the Johnny Vane influence—a black leather biker jacket my mom had bought me after I'd finished my exams. It was actually really cool, and perfect for the sunny yet breezy (judging from the treetops) early summer weather. I rounded it all off with my brightly colored camouflage Mulberry backpack. I put my glasses on and went downstairs to meet Tallulah.

My mom left the house just after I came down. She had some shopping to do—my dad was coming back tonight—so after a quick good-bye I was on my own with Tallulah. I showed her into our living room and we started to talk.

“How's Gavin?”

Tallulah smiled the first big smile I'd seen from her! “Thank you for asking. I'm happy to give you a glowing report, finally! Gavin's well. He's out of the coma and they're running tests, but it looks like he's sustained no long-term damage. I need hardly tell you what a relief that is to my parents—and me. He hasn't been able to say much yet but we're positive he'll soon be as good as new. Axelle, will you please fill me in on what has happened though? The police have been in touch and I'll be going to the station straight from here, but I want to hear it from you first.”

Without missing any details, I told her about the previous night's confrontation and everything that had led up to it.

“I had no idea it would all be so complicated,” she said.

“Neither did I,” I said. And I meant it.

“It's hard to believe it was Jane who attacked Gavin,” Tallulah said. “But of course who would ever suspect a ‘blind woman'?”

“I know. It's obviously a role she likes to play to throw people off their guard. She tried it on me when I surprised her at her house on Wednesday night, pretending she couldn't see the photo. But if you hadn't mentioned there'd been a blind woman on the Embankment the morning Gavin was attacked, I'm not sure my alarm bells would have gone off. When I was at her house I saw the cane she used for her disguise in a vase in her hallway. And when I started putting two and two together, I wondered if she'd had a role in hurting your brother…but it took me a while to figure out why.”

“And she was the one who ransacked our flat?”

“I think so, yes. The police will confirm everything—and press charges, I presume. But it seems she did it on her own, which may explain why it was done so neatly. You should see her house.”

“It's tidy, is it?”

“Very. I can easily imagine her making those clean cuts you described in your mattresses. I guess she was also the person who followed your brother that day when he ducked into the pub up the road from you, convinced someone was tailing him.”

“And did Jane make an arrangement to meet with him on the Embankment Sunday morning?”

“I'm not sure. It sounds like Gavin will soon be up to confirming what his plans were that morning and I'd love to ask him. All Jane wanted to talk about last night was what a monster Clarissa was. I did hear, however, that Jane was desperate to get her hands on the copy of the photo that Georgie had sent to Gavin—not that she knew it was Georgie who'd sent it.”

“Then how did Jane even know that Gavin had the photo?”

“The police asked the same question last night. And according to what Johnny said, after your brother received the photo he asked Johnny about it. Johnny laughed the whole thing off, but he did mention it to Jane…thinking she'd laugh it off too. Only she didn't. In fact, she became consumed with the idea that Gavin was on to her.

“She was sure he'd discovered the correlation between the birthmark and what happened all those years ago—and I have a feeling she might have been right. Gavin had spent quite a bit of time photographing Johnny and must have seen him without his gloves on at some point.”

“I knew it,” Tallulah said as we wound our meeting down. “I knew everything was connected somehow. Thank you, Axelle, for believing me, and thank you for getting to the bottom of it all.”

We eventually left the house. I did have a show to do, and Jazz had already called twice to make sure I wasn't going to be late. Tallulah accompanied Halley and me to Notting Hill Gate, and we talked all the way. We made a quick detour via the Dawson Place mansion though. Tallulah was very curious to see it.

“It looks creepy,” she said as she looked up at the four large, stone eagles keeping watch from the corners of the roof. “They should sell it. Why hang on to it when it's got such a creepy history?”

“Well, I think they will sell it now. I'm sure Jane and Caro would have liked to have seen the house sold years ago. In fact, Georgie told me Caro and Jane had often talked to her about selling the house, but Georgie had refused to sell her half of it. She and Johnny—or do I call him Julian, it's so confusing!—had inherited it. She wanted to hang on to it to have somewhere where she could ‘visit' her mother and feel close to her.

“In fact, by hanging on to it, she made it possible for me to uncover the truth. If the house had been sold and subdivided or who knows what, it would have been impossible to piece together the events of that sunny afternoon all those years ago. But I think now that she's had closure, Georgie will want to sell.”

Tallulah and I parted ways at Notting Hill Gate. She looked forward to telling Gavin everything but nonetheless asked me if I would visit them both as soon as he was back home in their flat so that I could talk to him myself.

“Absolutely,” I said. “I would really like to meet him. I'm curious to know how much he'd already figured out.”

Halley and I hopped on the Tube and caught a southbound Circle line train. Five minutes later we got off at South Kensington station. From there I walked the short distance to the Natural History Museum, where the Marc Jacobs show was taking place.

To be honest, my mind wasn't really on the show. I knew it was kind of a “big deal” as the agency put it—Marc Jacobs always is—but after the week I'd had, complete with the extremely close-up (no pun intended!) view I'd had of fashion's less attractive side—jealousy, deceit, lies, and a sick suppression of the truth—walking down the runway wasn't really what I wanted to focus on at that moment.

“Your mind is totally elsewhere, today, Axelle,” Ellie said as we sat backstage having our hair done. “You're still thinking about the case, aren't you?”

I nodded.

“And? What else?”

“And nothing else.”

Ellie laughed. “I know you too well for that to work with me, Axelle.”

“All right, Nancy Drew, then what else do I have on my mind?”

“Sebastian, I bet. You're meeting him afterward, aren't you?”

I nodded as I fed Halley one of the organic doggy treats I'd brought from home.

“Well, just so you know—although it doesn't take a detective to guess what I'm going to say—Josh is here too. He's already been asking about you. I have no doubt he's planning on coming backstage just to see you.”

In fact, Ellie was right. Josh did come to see me, but he wasn't alone. I'd changed into my own clothes, brushed my hair out, and was just removing my makeup when I heard him come up behind me. I turned, and there he was dressed like a pop star—with his grandmother.

I thanked her again for everything and told her that my friend was out of danger. “I'm so glad I could be of help,” she said. She winked as she said it, an easy smile on her lips, as if she understood everything I wasn't telling her. I wondered if the story of Jane's arrest had already made it into the media.

“I hope we meet again, Axelle,” she said, then before I could shake her hand, a microphone came between us and she turned to answer some questions for a news channel.

A moment later, Josh discreetly motioned for me to follow him. I did, but I made sure to stay a little bit behind him. Once we reached some large screens that were acting as room dividers, Josh and I slipped around them unnoticed.

“So when will I see you again, Axelle?” he asked. “Or do I have to arrange for another surprise meeting in a revolving door?”

Josh was nice, sweet, good-looking, and charming—not that I ever thought I'd say all that when I'd first bumped into him. And although it was actually fun to connect with someone like him on the fashion side of my life, there was another person in my life who I connected with more.

“Josh, I really like you…but there is someone else. It's a bit complicated right now, but I'm happy.”

“Why did I have the feeling you were going to tell me something like this?” Josh said lightly as he took one of my hands.

He wasn't making this any easier but I knew I had to be honest. “Josh, you and I have totally different lives. I'd constantly want to run away from the realities you have to deal with—paparazzi, fans, and all the rest… I mean, I hate that stuff! And I don't think I'd ever be at ease with it.”

“Yeah, but that's precisely one of the reasons you're so special—that and your spiky stubbornness.” He smiled. “Seriously though, you're the first person I've met in I don't know how long who isn't obsessed with my fame—although for a while there you did seem to have a thing about my grandmother. I've never had that happen before,” he said, laughing.

“Listen, Axelle.” His voice dropped to a near whisper as he looked at me, his eyes flickering softly in the light, and ran his hands gently through my hair. “I hear what you're saying, and I can wait. It's not like you and I don't live in the same city, and it's not like we won't see each other at another show. I'm going on tour on Monday and I'll be gone for a few months…but how about I give you a call when I get back?”

He laughed when he saw my lips move into that sort of frozen half smile I have when I'm not sure what to say. “You're incredible,” he said. “And by the way, don't change while I'm gone. I'll be very disappointed if I come back and you actually agree to a date with me.” He was smiling, but then he suddenly leaned in and gently kissed my cheek. “Take care. I'll call you when I'm back. Now, why don't you step out first and I'll follow in a couple of minutes.”

I nodded slowly as I looked at him for a moment, unsure of what to think about everything he'd just said. All kinds of conflicting feelings and thoughts raced through my mind. A part of me couldn't help but be flattered by his desire to get to know me better, and yet the way he was so sure that I'd come around to him seemed almost…arrogant.
Argh!
Where was my Clue-like ending? I'd had one for my case, but not for my heart.

“Take care, Josh, and have a blast on your tour,” I finally said—and I meant it. Then I turned and quietly returned to the backstage frenzy beyond the screen.

It was a stunning Saturday afternoon: blue skies, high clouds, and a light breeze. It was a short distance to Hyde Park. From the museum, Halley and I walked along Exhibition Road, into the park, and across to the Serpentine Gallery. Sebastian was waiting for us there, and he even had a picnic lunch—blanket included.

“You're a genius,” I said.

“That's high praise indeed, Holmes, especially for just a couple of sandwiches.”

“You're right. I'd better taste them first.”

“Ouch. Still spiky, even after the day we had yesterday?”

I punched him on the arm.

We walked until we found a quiet spot (we were hardly the only ones picnicking in the park that afternoon) under a lovely old oak tree. From where we sat we had the most gorgeous view toward the Italian garden end of the Serpentine. Swans glided serenely across the water and birds chirped overhead. It was the most tranquil ending to an otherwise action-packed week.