London (8 page)

“Go on.”

“Well, maybe someone wants to keep Gavin's ‘discovery' hidden. Maybe
that's
why he was attacked. Maybe it was about more than just stealing the flash drive—maybe they were trying to silence him.”

Sebastian's expression was grim. “You're talking about attempted murder.”

“I know,” I said. Hearing Sebastian say out loud what had been floating at the back of my mind for a few hours sent a shiver down my spine, but it meant this case was now even more urgent. I had a sudden thought. “Do you think you could find out if anyone besides close friends and family has called the hospital or tried to visit Gavin?”

Sebastian raised his eyebrows at me.

“Better to be safe than sorry,” I said. “If they tried to get him once, surely there's a chance they'll try again.”

“Good point, Holmes,” Sebastian said, turning toward me, his voice low. “But if you're right about Johnny's brother and mother, how do you solve a mystery that happened in the past?”

“I don't know, but I guess I'll have to find out.”

As we spoke I continued to search online and noticed something that had escaped me while I'd been researching on the Tube earlier:
Clarissa Vane's only sibling is the fashion stylist Caro Moretti (née Carolyne Ryder).

I knew Caro! I'd met her when I was in New York doing the shows (and solving my last case). She's been styling for Jorge Cruz since he first began designing and would no doubt be in London to help him with his resort collection show later this week. There was even a good chance I'd see her tomorrow at my Jorge Cruz fitting. But what a surprise to learn that Clarissa Vane was her sister! Even Charlotte hadn't mentioned it. Then again, their names were so different, and Clarissa had died so long ago that I supposed not many people knew or remembered.

Caro was also the only surviving relative of Johnny and Georgie mentioned online. Could she have become their guardian after Clarissa died? If I could find a moment or two during my fitting, I definitely needed to ask her some questions.

“So, what's the plan?” Sebastian asked after I'd told him about Caro Moretti.

“Well, it's important to establish who the children in the picture are, and I should have the perfect opportunity to do that when I see Caro tomorrow.”

“And what about finding out where it was taken?”

“I looked a bit today, but maybe tomorrow one of us can go farther up and down the river…perhaps at the end of the day sometime.”

“That's fine with me. By the way, Holmes, can I have my own copy of the photo?”

I pushed my copy of the old picture to him.

“Thanks. So I'll start with hunting down the newspaper reports. That seems to be most important. And what about you? Do you have lots of appointments?”

“I have a fitting with Belle La Lune first thing. I'm hoping that, knowing the business as she does, she might be able to tell me something about the Vanes.”

“When will you see Caro?”

“After Belle, I go straight to my Jorge Cruz fitting. I expect Caro will be there, so I'll take another copy of the photo with me.”

“And after that?”

“After that I'm off to Marylebone to the Johnny Vane head office. Johnny won't be there, but I want to check out his headquarters. I may able to ask a few questions and hopefully find a way to meet his sister, Georgie. Anyway, my castings are all in the morning. Then in the afternoon, I have a three-hour booking across town for
Teen Chic
.”
With Josh Locke
, I reminded myself.
Argh!

Sebastian nodded. “Good. So while you're doing that, I'll look into Gavin's background and check out the situation at the hospital. Shall I try to find out exactly where Johnny grew up?”

“Yes, Watson, that would be helpful.” I thought again of how Johnny had grown up in Notting Hill. “He can't have lived far from here. Hopefully the address will be given in the reports you'll find. And…”

“Yes?”

“Maybe you could try tracing the Vane nanny too. Apparently she's still very close to Johnny. Ellie said her name was Jane.”

Sebastian nodded. “Will do…” Then he went quiet for a moment before asking, “And what about actually spending some time with you? Is that going to happen at all?”

His voice was teasing—but his eyes weren't. A pang of guilt shot through me as I looked at him. I thought again of how often I'd complained lately about us never seeing each other…and yet here he was, in the flesh and right in front of me—and I had a case to solve! I wanted to be with him—badly—but I also had to get Gavin out of danger.
Argh!

“How about meeting for lunch and going over whatever new leads we'll have gathered by then? I'll have some time between my morning castings and the
Teen Chic
shoot.”

“Perfect. I'll take whatever I can get,” he said, smiling. “I suppose this is what happens when you date an undercover model. So where should we meet?”

“That depends on what we find out between now and then…and where it leads us next.”

“Good point, Holmes. So it sounds like we have a plan.”

“Yes, we do, Watson.” I smiled.

What we didn't have a plan for was how to say good night.

As we left the diner, Sebastian slipped his leather jacket gently around my shoulders. He took my hand, and we walked the short distance to my house in silence.

At first it was a bit uncomfortable standing outside my house with him. Saying good-bye in person and saying good-bye on Skype are two very different scenarios—and we were more used to Skype. But finally Sebastian stepped forward and gently ran his finger down the side of my face, cupped my chin in his hand, and gave me
that
look. I nearly melted under his touch.

He slowly ran his hands down my sides until they settled around my waist. Then he leaned into me and kissed me hard. This, I thought as I felt his lips move over mine, is what it should be like to be with someone—so much better than lots of wishful thinking over a cold computer screen.

Even though I really, really liked Sebastian, I didn't like how little time we spent together, and how that made both of us upset. Have you ever spent three months apart from the person you like? And is it possible to stay together with someone when you know that you'll only get to see them for a few days every couple of months at best? I got depressed just thinking about it.

We finally pulled apart and stood gazing at each other—or rather, Sebastian gazed at me. I was too fidgety and couldn't hold his stare. The night was bright. The high moonlight overhead illuminated the houses and church on my street with a pale, silver light as we stood in the shadows thrown by the rosebushes that grow like wild-haired sentries on either side of my gate.

“I'll look into everything we discussed,” Sebastian said. We both edged out of the shadows and into the bright light of the pavement as he spoke. “And then meet you for lunch.”

“I'll send you a message as soon as I've finished my appointment at Johnny Vane, speaking of which—”

He interrupted before I finished my sentence. “Don't worry,” he said quickly. “I know, if I find out anything important I'll message you. Right away—I promise.”

I smiled. It was nice to work with someone who knew me so well.

“Good, thanks.”

I slipped his jacket off my shoulders and handed it back to him. He leaned into me quickly and kissed me on the cheek.

“
À demain
, Holmes.”

“
À demain
, Watson.”

I watched him turn and leave before I started toward my door.

But as I reached for my key I heard him call out to me softly. “Axelle?”

I turned back and faced him.

“It was nice to see you tonight.” Then he smiled and disappeared.

Same here, Sebastian
, I thought as I pushed open my front door and Halley hurled herself at me.

Seen from the Side

As I woke up bright and early, the images from Gavin's flash drive kept flitting through my mind—although Halley's enthusiastic morning greeting did push them out of focus for a few minutes.

Waking up with Halley always involved lots of dog kisses all over my face and ears, as well as some excited jumping around on my bed. I tried to get into the shower before too long, however, because as cute as Halley is, West Highland white terrier saliva smells quite strong when it dries on your face.

Foremost on my mind as I got ready was how I was going to manage to meet Johnny Vane. Charlotte hadn't sounded too positive about me actually seeing him at his offices today, but I needn't have worried. As it turned out, Belle La Lune arranged an introduction.

Belle—like Jorge Cruz and Marc Jacobs—was in London to present her resort fashion show. Fashion houses sometimes travel to other cities to show their resort and pre-fall collections in between their normal spring-summer and autumn-winter collections. For example, Chanel and Christian Dior, both Paris-based fashion houses, have shown their resort and pre-fall collections in cities far from home, like Vienna and New York City—even Dubai.

This time around, Belle was opting to show the La Lune resort collection in their new London store, which was why my appointment to meet her was at the very fashionable Connaught Hotel, just around the corner from her store in Mayfair. She'd brought a large part of her in-house team with her. Belle wasn't just staying at the Connaught; she was holding her castings and fittings there too.

As my mom drove down Porchester Road and cut through Hyde Park, I read the message Tallulah had just sent me:

Any progress? I'm going to see Gavin later. I'll let you know how he is… PS: I didn't know you were going to Chic House yesterday—looks like you had fun!

Fun? What was she talking about? I wrote back:

Some progress, yes, but expect more later today. I'm following a couple of strong leads. And yes, I was at Chic House yesterday—for a casting.

I refrained from mentioning that “fun” was the last word I'd use to describe the tedious meeting with Jacky—followed by my annoying encounter with Josh Locke.

Tallulah wrote back right away:

Great news. I definitely want to hear more info as soon as you have it…BTW since when do castings involve holding hands with major pop stars?

Now what was she talking about? I wrote back and she answered with a link. I clicked on it and found a photo of myself, cropped at the knees and shown from the side. If you knew me well, you could tell it was me. Otherwise, I was hard to identify. But one thing was clear: it looked as if Josh and I were holding hands and gazing, love struck, into each other's eyes. Worst of all was the caption underneath the photo:
Does Josh Locke have a new mystery love?

We must have been snapped by the paparazzi just after he pulled me up outside the revolving door. I was standing on my own two feet, but I remember he'd held on to my hands while I regained my balance.

What would Sebastian think if he saw this photo?

ARGH!

“Axelle, is everything all right?” my mom asked. “You've gotten awfully quiet.”

As if I didn't have enough on my plate between my new case and all the castings and bookings Thunder kept throwing at me—now I had this to deal with too! The only bright spot in the whole mess was that I was unidentified. Besides upsetting Sebastian, the last thing I wanted was a team of paparazzi following me around as I tried to fly under the radar and search for clues.

In answer to my mom's question, I held out my phone to show her the picture.

“Darling, it's Josh Locke! You didn't tell me you knew him—and judging by that photo, I have to say it seems you know him quite well. When were you going to tell me?”

It took all my self-control not to jump out of our car. “Mom, I met Josh Locke yesterday
accidentally
at my
Teen Chic
casting. I spoke to him for, like, five minutes, because he ran into me and knocked me over just as I was stepping outside. Some random paparazzo must have been lurking behind a car or something and taken these pictures with a telephoto lens.”

“It certainly looks romantic.… Does Sebastian know?”

“I hope not. And, unfortunately, I'm going to work with Josh Locke today. For some bizarre reason,
Teen Chic
booked me for the job.”

“Then he must like you.” Mom smiled at me.

I looked at her. Honestly, what planet did she come from? And could she ever—
ever
—see things from my perspective for just one minute? “Mom, he's so arrogant. Trust me, we did not get along. I couldn't believe it when Charlotte confirmed the booking, because the editor hardly stopped talking on the phone long enough to take a proper look at me.”

“Oh, Axelle, I've heard Josh Locke is absolutely charming. I'm sure he's not arrogant. He's famous—that's different.”

I rolled my eyes. My mom was such a closet celebrity fan that it almost hurt. “Anyway,” she continued, “at least you're not mentioned by name, so I doubt you'll have any paparazzi following you around today—or jealous fans.” She giggled. “He must have masses.”

I hadn't even thought of the jealous fan scenario. I was quiet for a moment before answering. “Well, that's something anyway.”
And that's how it's going to stay
, I thought. As soon as I saw Josh, I planned to give him a piece of my mind. The last thing I wanted was the extra attention that having my name linked with his would bring.

I'd never been to the Connaught Hotel before. It was a grand old brick-and-stone building with a spotless facade and liveried footmen standing at attention by the elegant door. The Connaught is located on a small, pretty square called Carlos Place and looked like it had come straight out of an old black-and-white film. If Audrey Hepburn had stepped out, impeccably dressed in one of her Givenchy frocks, I wouldn't have been surprised. Along with Claridge's, it was one of the two London hotels that discerning fashionistas preferred. Both hotels are located in Mayfair, just around the corner from some of London's most expensive shops.

“Don't forget to say hello to Belle for me,” Mom said as we pulled up in front of the Connaught's discreet columned entrance. “And I would love to see the show,” she added with a pointed smile.

This was her hint that I was supposed to ask Belle for a ticket to see her resort show. Of course, knowing Belle, she'd already have one reserved for my mom. Since I saved her life in Paris, Belle had taken a strong interest in my life and career—my
detective
career, that is. Not that she ignored my modeling work. The casting request was proof of that. But Belle understood that for me, modeling was just a way to (hopefully) solve some juicy fashion mysteries—and I loved her for that.

“And, Axelle, love?”

“Yes, Mom?”

“I know you're upset about the photo, but it's not as bad as you think. No one will recognize you. Call me if you run into any problems, all right?”

“Thanks, Mom.”

I walked into the hotel, gave my name at the reception desk, and was directed to a suite of rooms on the top floor. Once there, the hushed calm of the elegant hotel came to an abrupt end.

I was ushered into an enormous suite vibrating with music, frenzied chatter, and laughter. It was crowded with clothes and people, some holding folders and notebooks, others with pins in their mouths, others talking into their phones or taking photos. And there in the middle of the friendly storm was Belle, bent over and snipping into a dress with long steel scissors while the model wearing it watched her with wide eyes. A pair of seamstresses stood by, and Belle's long blond hair kept falling into her eyes, until one of the seamstresses tied it back for her.

“Axelle,
bonjour
,” Belle said as she got up to hug me. “Great that you're here! Julia, would you show Axelle her outfit, please?” she asked in her lightly lilting French accent before turning back to me and adding more quietly, “And you are not to leave until we've had a moment to catch up, all right?” Before I could answer, she'd been whisked away by yet another assistant.

As I slipped into a featherlight, multicolored tunic, I couldn't help checking my phone in case Sebastian had found something out.
Then again, Axelle
, I told myself,
it's not even nine o'clock yet. How much could he have unearthed by now?

The stylist finished fastening the tiny buckles on my coral suede heels, and I walked across to see Belle.

“What's going on, Axelle?” she asked. “You look like you have something on your mind. Am I right?” She looked me in the eyes and smiled as she adjusted a belt round my waist. “Is it to do with work?”

I pursed my lips slightly and Belle laughed.

“Ahh!” she said teasingly. “Might it be something along the lines of what you did for me in Paris?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

“And is there some way I can help you?”

I nodded slowly. “Actually, yes there is. I need to talk to Johnny Vane, but he's on a shoot today—their autumn-winter campaign. I've got a casting there later this morning, but I won't get to see him and I really need to. He's linked to the case I'm following up. Anyway, the sooner I can talk to him, the better. Even today might be too late…but he mustn't suspect anything. Have you any idea how I can meet him?”

“Well, I think I can help. In fact, I know I can,” she said as she swapped the coral shoes I was wearing for a pair of gold, strappy heels. “There, that's better,” she said as she stood back and admired her styling adjustment. “It needed that touch of sparkle. Anyway…listen, Axelle. Are you free this evening?”

“Um…yes, I think so,” I said hesitantly. I felt a pang of conscience and hoped Sebastian hadn't already made any plans for us.

“Good, because tonight I'm hosting a summer party and auction at Kensington Gardens to raise money for the La Lune Fashion Design Foundation. Anyone who's anyone in London fashion will be there, along with a good handful of musicians, actors, It girls, our biggest clients, buyers, and…Johnny Vane. If you came, I could make sure to introduce you to him. Would that help?”

Was she kidding? Was black the new black? “Definitely,” I said, smiling with gratitude.

“Good. I'm pretty sure Ellie's coming. She's on the guest list. You weren't automatically invited because I know fashion parties aren't really your kind of thing,” she said with a laugh.

“True,” I said, smiling, “but in this case I'm willing to make an exception.” I thought for a moment, then asked, “Belle, could you invite Sebastian too?” I couldn't very well leave him on his own when he'd come all the way to see me, and it would definitely help me to have an extra pair of keen eyes along. Besides, Belle's family has known Sebastian's father, Inspector Witt, for years. Sebastian's hardly a stranger to her.

“Is he in town?” She looked at me, head tilted to the side.

I nodded.

“So I presume he's helping you? On your case?” She added the last question in a whisper.

I nodded.

“Fine. Then why don't you bring him with you this evening, and I'll make sure they let him through.”

“Great!” I said as I tried to walk a few steps in the sparkly shoes. “And Belle?”

“
Oui.
” She had a couple of pins in her mouth and was standing back from me, examining the tunic I was wearing through narrowed blue eyes.

“Thank you.”

She looked at me and smiled. “It's the least I can do for the person who saved my life, don't you think?” Then she laughed and signaled to me to walk the length of the room.

Belle gave me my hair and makeup times for her show on Thursday, and it was confirmed by Thunder just as I left the Connaught. I stepped out of the hotel feeling as if I was making progress. Okay, maybe
progress
was a bit of a strong word, but I was pushing forward anyway, and that felt good.

Unfortunately the feeling was short-lived. A few minutes later my phone rang. It was Tallulah.

“Axelle, I have some bad news!” she said quickly. “Gavin's life-support machines were found disconnected just before five this morning!” The panic in her voice shot across the airwaves like a live current.

“Is he all right?”

“Yes—for now anyway. He's stable, but it was close. Fortunately, the nurse on duty was immediately alerted by an alarm.”

“How did it happen?”

“The hospital doesn't know…” Her voice trailed off. “But I have a bad feeling about this.” She was quiet for a moment before saying, “Do you remember what you told me on Tuesday morning?”

“That if given the chance, whoever attacked Gavin on Sunday might try to attack him again?”

“Yes—well, as far as I'm concerned you're right. You have to hurry, Axelle. Please!”

Keeping my voice calm, I promised her I was moving as quickly as I could and then said good-bye.

Panic spread through me as I hung up. It was just as I'd discussed last night with Sebastian. Until I could identify Gavin's attacker, his life was still in danger.

After putting my phone away, I continued the short walk to my appointment for Jorge Cruz. He and his team had just arrived from New York City and had chosen a suite of rooms at Claridge's. And while they were super excited about being in London to show their resort collection at Hampton Court Palace, I was focused on getting a few minutes of question time with Caro. Fortunately, as soon as she saw me, she called me over to her.

“Hi, Axelle,” she said as she gave me the fashion double air-kiss and asked what I'd been doing since I last saw her in New York. “I've just seen your pictures for French
Elle
, by the way, and they look great.”