Limoncello Yellow (Franki Amato Mysteries) (18 page)

He hung his head.
"Uh, sorry."

I shot Veronica a look. There was no reason to embarrass the kid in front of a client.
"Don't worry about it, David."

Ryan, true to arrogant form, didn
't bother to acknowledge David's existence.

"
Ryan," Veronica said, looking at her watch, "I hate to run, but I need to call the London School of Fashion again before they close to find out whether they have a record of an 'Angelica Evangelista.' I called earlier this morning, but they had no record of Jessica."

"
Interesting," Ryan responded. "Okay then, I'll bring up the other boxes from my car, and then I need to get to the office. But can I count on one of you to actually update me today on what you find out?" He looked from Veronica to me.

"
Of course, Ryan." Veronica turned to me. "Franki, fill David in on everything and help him do an Internet search on 'Angelica Evangelista,' okay?"

"
Sure." I nodded a frosty farewell in Ryan's direction. "David, let's go use my computer," I suggested as I turned to walk to my office. I didn't want to have to deal with Ryan Hunter when he returned with the remaining boxes.

"
Right on," David replied, following close behind. I was sure that he didn't want to see Ryan again either.

When we reached my office, I said,
"David, you're the resident research guru. You sit here in my seat, and I'll just pull up a chair beside you. By the way, what time do you have class today?"

"
Uh, I have Brazilian Dance at one." He sat down and opened my laptop.

"
Brazilian Dance? I thought you were a computer science major."

He looked at me sheepishly for a moment.
"Well, not a lot of girls, like, take comp sci courses."

"
Got it." I smiled both at the thought of him taking classes to meet women and at the mental image of his long, lanky frame doing Brazilian dance moves.

"
So, I just googled 'Angelica Evangelista' and got almost eight thousand hits," he said. "Let's add 'New Orleans' to narrow down the search." His long, spindly fingers flew over the keyboard, and then he pressed the return key.

I looked at the screen.
"Wow, less than a hundred results. Now that's more like it."

We were interrupted by the clacking sound of Veronica
's Manolo Blahniks, which were quickly approaching my office.

She burst into the room.
"Incredible news! A student named Angelica Evangelista graduated from the London College of Fashion in 2008! Can you believe it?"

David and I looked at each other and back at her.

"Did you find out anything else?" I asked.

"
Yes. This Angelica got a bachelor's degree in Fashion Management."

"
Which is exactly what Jessica Evans did for a living," I added.

Veronica
's eyes were sparkling. "Exactly!"             

"
Is that a four-year degree?" I pressed.

"
Yeah, why?"

I did a rapid calculation in my head.
"Well, then the year would be about right, because Jessica was twenty-six, and that would make her around twenty-two years old when she graduated."

"
Could Angelica be Jessica?" Veronica asked as though she didn't dare believe it.

"
I'm beginning to wonder that myself," I replied, deep in thought. "Hey, David," I began, "try searching 'Angelica Evangelista' and 'London.'"

Veronica walked behind my desk to see the computer screen.

"Whoa!" David exclaimed as the results appeared. And Veronica and I didn't need to ask him why. The very first link was a Wikipedia page entitled "Murder of Immacolata Di Salvo."

"
What's this?" I said, stunned.

David clicked the link, and we all leaned closer to the screen to read the text.

'
Immacolata Di Salvo, an American exchange student from New Orleans, Louisiana, was murdered on May 1, 2008. Di Salvo, aged twenty-two, was found dead in her dorm room in London, where she attended the London College of Fashion
.'

I quickly glanced through the rest of the article but didn
't see the name Angelica Evangelista. "David, scroll down the page a little. I want to see how this Angelica person is connected to the murder."

He did a search for
"Angelica" and found her name in the middle of the page.

"
There," I said when the cursor highlighted the name. "I'll read it aloud.
Angelica Evangelista, an American exchange student from New Orleans, Louisiana, and the flat mate of Di Salvo, found Di Salvo's body after returning home from a trip abroad at 3 a.m. There were no signs of forced entry in the dorm room, which led police to believe that Di Salvo knew her killer.
"

"
Oh. My. God." I sat back in my chair.

"
Could this be related to our case?" Veronica asked. She and I stared at each other in shock.

"
Dude!" David exclaimed.

"
What?" I asked with a start. I was on the edge of my seat and almost fell off.

"
It mentions Stewart Preston!" he exclaimed. "I totally remember hearing about this when I was a kid."

I couldn
't help but repress a smile at the notion that David was anything but a kid now.

"
Who's Stewart Preston?" Veronica asked.

"
His family is rich," David explained. "I'm talkin' uber rich. His father, Stewart Preston, III, owns, like, half of New Orleans."

"
What does he do?" Veronica pressed.

"
I dunno. I never really knew," he replied. "One second."

David opened a new page and typed
"Stewart Preston, III" into the search field. He immediately found a Wikipedia page on Preston, and, after scanning the contents he said, "Looks like he owns a bunch of textile companies."

"
Make that a textile empire," I corrected, glancing at the long list of companies owned by Preston and his associates.

"
Franki, read the part in the murder article about Stewart Preston," Veronica said.

"
Sure," I said as David switched back to the other screen. "It says, '
Stewart Preston, IV, an American exchange student from New Orleans, Louisiana, who was attending the London School of Economics, was charged with the sexual assault and murder of Di Salvo in August of 2009
.'"

David nodded.
"Right! And he never went to jail either. Everyone said it was because of his dad's money and connections."

I resumed reading.
"It says, '
Preston was eventually acquitted and cleared of all charges in January of 2012
.' I wonder why."

"
Me too," Veronica replied. "Does it say?"

"
No, and it doesn't explain how Immacolata was killed either," I noted.

"
Right," she said. "David, look for a local article on the murder, maybe one from
The Times-Picayune
."

As David returned to the main search results page, Veronica commented,
"You know, it's certainly looking like Jessica Evans and Angelica Evangelista are one and the same person, but I wish there was something more concrete to link the two of them."

David pulled up a
Times-Picayune
article on the Di Salvo murder dated May 4, 2008. The opening line of the article reported, '
On May 1, 2008, Immacolata Di Salvo was found strangled to death in her dorm room at the London College of Fashion
.'

"
Strangled?" Veronica said.

She and I exchanged a questioning look.

"Just like Jessica," I said softly.

"
Yeah," David confirmed, "and look at this part!" He pointed a skinny finger at the second line of the article. "'
The murder weapon was a scarf."'

"
Tombola!
" I whispered in Italian. "Uh, I mean, 'Bingo!'" I translated for David's benefit.

"
A scarf." I shook my head. "I can't believe it."

The three of us stared at the computer screen for a few minutes, dumbstruck. David was the first to break the silence.

"So, Angelica and Jessica were, like, the same girl!"

"
It sure looks that way, doesn't it?" Veronica replied.

"
Yeah," I breathed. "This case is getting crazy, isn't it?"

"
I'll say. And dangerous too! Like, you guys could be dealing with a serial scarf strangler!" David opened his eyes wide. "If I were either one of you, man, I wouldn't even
think
of wearing a scarf while I was workin' this case."

Even though I wasn
't wearing a scarf, my hand involuntarily went to my throat. I started to protest but then opted to remain silent. The kid had a point.

Veronica walked to the front of my desk to face us.
"Let's not jump to any conclusions, David. Even if these two cases are related," she continued, pacing back and forth, "there's no guarantee that the same person committed both murders."

"
I guess." David stared down at his dirty white tennis shoes. He was clearly very attached to the idea of a serial scarf strangler.

Veronica looked at him.
"We need to actually prove that Jessica was really Angelica before we spend any time investigating the relationship between these two cases. Otherwise, we could make a critical mistake."

"
So, we need to track down Bill and Barbara Evangelista," I said.

"
Yeah, and Immacolata's family. Since Immacolata roomed with Angelica, then one of her relatives or friends must have seen a picture of Angelica at some point."
              David was typing quickly. "Uh, here's an obituary for Immacolata Di Salvo. It mentions her family."

I turned to look at the screen and scanned the text.
"Here we go. It says,
'She is survived by her father, Rosario Di Salvo, her mother, Maria Di Salvo, and her sisters Concetta and Domenica.'
Wow, those are some serious Italian Catholic names."

"
Huh?" David turned to look at me. "What do you mean?"

"
Well, 'Immacolata' is Italian for 'Immaculate,' and the other family members' names mean 'rosary,' 'Mary,' 'conception,' and 'Sunday.' Oh, and the 'Salvo' part of their last name is the nickname for 'Salvatore,' which means 'savior.'"

"
Wicked!" he exclaimed.

Righteous, maybe, but not wicked,
I thought. "Religious-themed names are really common in Italy, especially in the South, so I'm guessing that the Di Salvos are fairly devout." I continued scanning the obituary.

Veronica was behind me again, trying to read over my shoulder.
"Does the obituary list a funeral home?"

I turned back to look at her.
"Yeah, and it's in Slidell. Where is that?"

"
It's a suburb of New Orleans," David explained. Then his chest swelled with pride. "It's, like, a forty-minute drive from here, but I can make it in twenty-five."

"
That reminds me," I began, "Veronica, you never told us the cities that Bill and Barbara Evangelista were living in."

"
Oh, right! Let me go get the envelope." She hurried from the room.

"
David, see if you can find an address for the Di Salvos," I said.

"
Already got it," he replied. "There's a 'Rosario Di Salvo' in the white pages on St. Augustine Street. Their phone number's listed. But I can't believe people still have landlines, man. That's sooooo last century."

Before I could reply, Veronica clacked back into the room and stopped in front of my desk with the envelope.
"Barbara lived on East Queens Drive in Slidell, but Bill didn't write his return address. It was postmarked in Baton Rouge, though."

"
Well, David just found a Slidell address for a Rosario Di Salvo. If it's the right person, then Angelica and Immacolata could have known each other before they went to college."

"
Let's call the Di Salvos and see if we can find that out, shall we?" she asked.

"
Sure." I looked at the screen to find the number.

"
David, while Franki and I are on this call, I need you to look up the property tax appraisal records for the parish that East Queens Drive is in. Find out whether the Evangelistas own that house." She handed him the envelope. "Then get me anything you can on Barbara and Bill Evangelista."