London (25 page)

I really did feel sorry about unleashing so much chaos at Jorge's show, but what else could I do?

I was passing a large, clipped box bush when I heard a loud hiss. I turned and saw Sebastian. I bent down and pretended to tie my shoelaces while I pushed his bag toward him. Then I got up and fell back in with the models. A few seconds later, Sebastian joined me and we kept walking with the models all the way down to the dock. There we got on one of the departing boats and sailed off into the sparkling afternoon light.

Sebastian and I stood at the railing and caught our breath before I asked him what I was desperate to know.

“Did you see any distinguishing marks on the top of Johnny's right hand?” I said as I looked at him and brushed the hair out of my eyes.

Sebastian shook his head. “Nothing—not a single blemish or scar. Absolutely nothing.”

I let out a loud breath of air.

“Is that what you expected to hear?”

“Yes—at least, it's what I'd hoped to hear.”

“So what's next, Holmes?”

I looked at my watch. It was four o'clock. We'd have just enough time to eat something before meeting Georgie and Agnieszka at Dawson Place.

“It's time to uncover the Vane family's long-buried secrets.”

Ellie called me to say that, after I'd given her the signal to run, the security guards had indeed followed her out of the backstage tent. She'd led them past the Knot Garden and through a few palace courtyards before slowing down. Once they'd caught up with her, she'd delayed them further by accusing them of harassment. She let them placate her for a while before explaining that she'd actually been running away from the fire. By then, Sebastian and I were long gone.

Ellie had just gotten on a train to Waterloo. We agreed that Sebastian and I would hop off the boat at Surbiton meet Ellie on the Surbiton station platform. We'd all travel to Waterloo together. From there we'd all take the Tube to Notting Hill.

Georgie's message came through just as we pulled in to Waterloo:

Axelle, everything is in place. Everyone will be there at 7:30 p.m. But I'll meet you at 6:30. Is that early enough?

We'd planned to meet at Dawson Place. That morning, in the private garden where we'd spoken, I'd told Georgie about my plans to confront Johnny, Caro, and Jane at the family home. When I'd told her she'd have to be present too, she'd been nervous and hesitant. But I'd insisted that she needed to be there to help start the dialogue—after all, why would they open up to me? She'd finally agreed, and a short while after we'd parted, she'd messaged me to say she'd notified Caro, Jane, and Johnny as per my instructions. She'd told them that someone had been in touch with her about a family secret that concerned Clarissa Vane and Julian and that they were planning to go to the press with their story the following morning.

Apparently the ruse had worked.

I wrote back to Georgie to confirm our meeting time.

Before I walked with Ellie and Sebastian to the Jubilee line platform, I quickly called Agnieszka to confirm the meeting with her too. I needed her to let us into the house before the others showed up. Otherwise, if Georgie was late or backed out at the last second, my plan could fail before it had even started.

Our brief conversation proved what Mr. Rivera had claimed—that Agnieszka was a tough cookie. She hardly knew me, but as soon as I'd so much as hinted about my plans for the evening, she'd insisted on helping out. And after I'd shared a few more details, she became determined to station herself in the shadows of the second-floor landing, phone in hand, ready to call in support if necessary (and it was highly likely, considering the people I was expecting).

When I asked again whether she was really sure that she wanted to help me, she'd answered without any hesitation. “Absolutely. I'll help you, no problem. And don't worry, I can handle myself.” An image I had of her from our last meeting sprang to mind. She'd been standing in the hall, backlit, her wiry frame and short, spiky hair starkly outlined in the light, the silence of the house punctuated by her gum snapping and knuckle cracking. I believed her when she said she could take care of herself.

“So what are we going to do once we're at the house?” Ellie asked as she, Sebastian, Halley, and I walked out of Notting Hill Gate Tube station and headed in the direction of the library. A pizzeria I liked was open just across from the station—and, importantly, they had a few tables set up on the pavement just outside their large shop window so that Halley could join us. They even offered a vegetarian, gluten-free pizza option for Ellie.

“Well,” I answered, “I don't mean to sound so theatrical…but I think it's time the Vane family secrets saw the light of day.”

“And I don't suppose you're ready to share them yet?” Sebastian asked as we sat down.

“No, not quite, Watson.” I smiled. Ellie and Sebastian rolled their eyes at me as our order was called. As we ate, I outlined my plans for that evening's meeting at the house. Ellie got up to make a call to the agency, and Sebastian looked at me for a moment before saying, “There's only one part of your plan that has to change, Holmes.”

“And what's that?”

“My part in the proceedings.” He leaned in to me across the table and said, “There's no way I'm going to stand outside—away from you. I'm not leaving you on your own in that house.”

“But Agnieszka will be with me.”

“Yeah—upstairs.”

“I'll be okay, Sebastian. Honestly—”

“Forget it, Axelle. Nothing you say will change my mind. I'm not leaving you on your own, so you'd better just find me a good place to hide—inside and near you.”

He looked totally kissable, sitting there in his leather jacket (the paint-splattered duds long gone), insisting he knew what was best.

“I like it when you play tough, Watson,” I said as I reached for a last small piece of the pizza.

He grabbed my wrist, his warm hand encircling it tightly. “I'm not playing, Holmes. I don't want you to get hurt. And if you keep looking at me the way you are now, it's not just tonight that I won't want to leave you on your own. It'll be always.”

Sebastian still hadn't let go of my wrist when Ellie came back to the table.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, a small smile turning up the corners of her lips.

“No,” I answered. “We're just discussing the positions we'll be taking up at Dawson Place. Sebastian thinks he should be inside.”

“Me too,” Ellie said. “In fact, I think I should be upstairs somewhere—not that I've seen the house. But if you two plan on being downstairs, why don't I stay at some kind of vantage point upstairs with Agnieszka? I can act as a lookout.”

I was outnumbered and I didn't like it.

“You know, since meeting you, Axelle, I've changed my gym routine to include some martial arts,” Ellie continued, “and I really like it. So, okay, maybe I'm way smoother on the runway than I'll ever be at landing a karate chop, but still…I can actually do a bit of martial-arts-movie stuff. So, don't worry about me. I'll be watching, and if you need help, I'll be downstairs in a flash.” She took a mask out of her shoulder bag, the kind that has holes for the mouth and eyes. “I'll have to use this of course. And I'll have to hide my hair under this,” she added as she pulled out a black beanie. “I'm happy to help, but I can't risk being recognized! If word gets out that I'm helping to put fashion designers in jail, my modeling career will be finished faster than new trends are made. Anyway, so upstairs, right?”

I bit into my piece.

Sebastian laughed. “Give in, Axelle. Sometimes your friends do know what's best for you.”

Grrr!

Just as we got up to leave my phone pinged. It was a message from Tallulah:

I'm at the hospital—they're going to try bringing Gavin round in the next few hours. Good luck with the plan!

I texted back:

Thanks—I'll need it!

The Past Finally Speaks

The house was so silent. Even though I'd been inside just the other day, the silence still hit me like a wall as I stepped into the hall. Even the grandfather clock standing in the corner didn't tick anymore. Time had stood still at the Dawson Place mansion for a very, very long time.

If all went according to plan, however, that was about to change.

Georgie was just inside the hall, setting her handbag down when we walked in. She was nervous. I could see that just from the way she stood. Her shoulders were hunched, and her hair was pushed absentmindedly behind her ears. She looked preoccupied—which, considering the task ahead of her, was hardly surprising.

I gently shut the door behind us and then quickly introduced her to Sebastian and Ellie, and Halley too. (I registered Georgie's slight look of surprise at seeing Halley—but I knew my dog would be able to stick to whatever plans I asked of her.) Of course, Georgie already knew Agnieszka from her visits to the house, and though Georgie was surprised to see her arrive with us, Agnieszka simply waved and said, “Never mind me. I'll be quiet as a mouse.” Then she disappeared upstairs before Georgie collected herself enough to start asking questions.

“Are you ready, Georgie?” I asked as I faced her. The early evening sun on the stained-glass windows in the stairwell threw patches of candy-colored light across the hall. Circles of red, orange, blues, and greens danced around the room. It was like standing in a kaleidoscope. With a discreet wave of my hand I motioned to Sebastian and Ellie. Sebastian understood what I meant: start searching for places to hide. Behind me I heard them both move quietly off.

“I hope so. I think so…but I am nervous,” Georgie continued. “What if I'm wrong?”

“You're not. Don't forget that I'd uncovered enough clues to unlock the past before you spoke to me this morning. I can prove what I know, and I'll do whatever it takes to bring the truth to light. I promise. The events of the past will be cleared up, and your family history will be rewritten—correctly this time. And you'll finally be able to move forward with a clear conscience. Life will begin again for you.”

“But why does it have to be like this? Someone here is going to suffer tonight, and it's my fault.”

“No, it's not your fault, Georgie—not at all. But sometimes the past needs to have its say too. Besides, if the truth isn't revealed now, it'll come out eventually—next week, next month, or whenever. You can't bury the past forever, you know.”

Georgie nodded.

“All I need you to do is to start the conversation, just like I explained earlier. And I'll take over as soon as I can. Remember, Caro, Jane, and Johnny would never have come here tonight if I'd tried inviting them on their own. They'd have thought I was completely mad. So I need you, Georgie. If I'm to clear this up and put an end to your nightmares, I need your help. Okay?”

“Yes,” she said finally.

“Thank you,” I said. “We don't have much time, so let me show you where I'd like this to happen.” I led her to the library. From the far end of the large room, an elegant mahogany writing desk faced the arched doorway into the hall. Behind me was a curtained window that I knew looked onto the garden at the back of the house, and opposite, across the room, was a huge fireplace. Apart from another large window to the left of the desk, the rest of the wall space was covered with bookshelves. On an easel in the left-hand corner behind me was a portrait of Clarissa.

The portrait showed her face. Her blond hair was lit like a halo, her elegant head turned three-quarters toward us. Even in this musty, faded room the portrait was radiant, the many tones of orange and red glowing in the dim light.

“We'll wait for them in here,” I said as I stood with Georgie in the middle of the room. “We'll leave the front door unlocked and you can call them in. If you can get everyone to sit on the sofas here, that would be good. I'll be hiding—here, perhaps,” I said as I drew open the curtains of the large window behind the desk and watched the room come alive. With the soft evening sunlight that suddenly filled the library, the musty yellow walls and fabrics began to shimmer.

Sebastian quietly walked in and told me that he was going to hide in the folds of the faded, green velvet brocade curtains that hung in the doorway between the library and the hall. Then he drew open the curtains of the other large window in the room and helped me to arrange the heavy folds. “Is this where you'll hide?” he asked as I slipped behind the golden-yellow damask fabric. Once I was well concealed, I leaned my head out a bit, hoping the shadows of the heavy fabric would hide my face.

“I think so. Do you see me?”

He stepped back a few paces. “No, not at all.”

“Perfect.” I nodded as I slipped back out and asked Halley to sit behind the curtains. (She promptly rolled into a ball and rested her head on her front paws.) “Then that'll be my spot. I should be able to hear everything and see enough from there, and they'll all see me when I step out. Are Ellie and Agnieszka in position?”

Sebastian smiled and nodded. “All set for action, Holmes.”

“Good, because I think we'll get some.”

Before either one of us could say anything else, a loud creaking sound made us both jump. But it was only Ellie, stepping into the room. “Get to your places—they're coming! Johnny's black Range Rover is at the top of the street.” Then she ran back upstairs.

Sebastian slipped into position while I quickly reassured Georgie one last time before I also took up my position.

Everything was set to go.

They walked into the house more or less all at the same time. Georgie called out to them, and I watched as Johnny, Caro, and Jane filed into the library, Jane leaning on a cane. Georgie stood in the middle of the room. She looked pale and fearful as they settled themselves on the sofas. I hoped she'd be able to go through with our plan.

“So what's going on, Georgie?” Johnny asked. I couldn't help but notice that he'd changed his outfit since I'd last seen him backstage a few hours ago—his gloves were now splatter free.

“And how long is this going to last?” Caro asked. “My flight to New York leaves tonight.”

“Anyway, why would you possibly want to discuss Clarissa and Julian now? Tonight?” Jane said. “Simply because some random person has told you they know something about us?”

Get going, Georgie
, I thought. Jane had just given her the perfect lead-in. Fortunately, she took it.

“The random person, as you put it, Jane, actually knows quite a bit about us and our family history…and…and…”

Great
, I thought,
she's faltering already.

But Georgie took a breath and managed to continue. “And what they've told me rings true with what I remember about when Julian and my mother died.”

“Georgie, darling,” Jane said, “you were so young when all that happened. What memories could you possibly have?”

“Not many, I admit,” Georgie said quietly, “but I can't deny the little I do remember anymore. We have to talk about my mother and brother—”

“They're mine too, you know,” Johnny said.

“I know, I know, Johnny. My point is that I need to talk about them and it can't wait—especially now that someone is threatening to go to the press with what they know.”

“So what do they know?” Caro asked.

“A lot, actually.”

Caro rolled her eyes while Georgie pulled the originals of the two photos she'd sent Gavin and me from her bag. She laid them on the low table between the two sofas, and the others peered at them.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Johnny asked.

“No. And you especially, Johnny, should take a close look at the photo of you and Julian.”

“I already know that photo,” he said. “I've seen it my whole life.”

“Yes, but have you ever noticed this?” she said as she held the photo up and pointed to a small spot on Johnny's right hand.

“What are you talking about, Georgie? What are you saying?” he said as he took the photo. “That spot? I can barely see it. And so what?”

“Take your gloves off and I'll show you.”

“Georgie,” Jane said, “someone has clearly filled your head with nonsense. There are people, you know—specially trained people—who can help you resolve any issues you have with your past. In the meantime, I'm not sure telling your brother to take his gloves off is the place to start.”

“Thank you, Jane, for your vote of confidence in my ability to think for myself—” Georgie stopped to collect herself. I watched as she struggled to regain her courage. After a moment she said again, “Take your gloves off, Johnny.”

Caro looked at Jane, and Jane looked at Johnny. “Just do it, Johnny,” Caro said. “Humor her.”

Johnny did.

“Don't you see, Johnny? You don't have a mark on your right hand, do you? And yet in the photo you do!”

“What are you talking about, Georgie?” Johnny was getting angry and exasperated.

“In the photo—as a child—you had a red birthmark on your right hand. And now you don't.”

Johnny snatched the photo from the table and stared at it.

“Johnny, calm down,” Caro said.

“So what do you mean exactly?” Johnny yelled as he threw the photo back on the table, ignoring Caro. “What are you getting at?” I could see his fists clenching now.

Georgie stood, shaking. She looked pale. “There were two twin brothers. Johnny was born with a mark on his right hand. But Julian wasn't…”

“And?” Johnny said in a low growl.

“I'm trying to tell you that you are not Johnny—you are Julian. It's the truth, and someone has been hiding it!” A loud sob escaped Georgie as she spoke. I watched as she picked up the photo. “This copy is our mother's. I found it here, in her desk upstairs. She had it in an envelope in a secret compartment of her desk.” Georgie's voice trembled. “And on the back of this photo it is clearly marked which twin is which—and in our mother's own hand.”

“This is absurd, Georgie,” Jane said as she stood up. “You really do need help—and I'm willing to find you the right doctor.”

“And I can tell you that Johnny is Johnny,” Caro said. “I'm old enough to remember.” She was angry now and glared at Georgie as she continued. “Stop being so stupid, Georgie. You can't possibly have any idea what you're talking about.”

But Georgie was adamant. “No, no. Someone's been lying. Jane, you have a copy of this photo at your house, but you've always told us that it was Julian with the mark on his hand!”

“And?”

“And you were wrong!”

“Georgie,” Jane said softly as she walked toward her. But Johnny also took a step toward Georgie, blocking Jane. He looked threatening, his face angry, his body poised as if for a fight. I could see fear rising in Georgie, and I knew that if I didn't step in soon, my chance—and Georgie's and Gavin's—to put the facts straight would be lost.

“I know what I'm saying sounds crazy, Johnny—but you are Julian!” Georgie said.

“
Shut up!
” Johnny yelled at her. He was nearly frothing at the mouth. Then he spun toward Jane. “Do you know anything about this, Jane?” he asked.

“Nothing. She doesn't know what she's saying, Johnny,” Jane said. I couldn't tell if it was the light, but Jane was beginning to look feverish. Her eyes appeared slightly glassy, and perspiration was breaking out on her brow. “Like I told you, she needs a doctor.”

Georgie was sobbing now, nervous and scared. She seemed to have gone as far as she could on her own. With a quick signal to Halley to stay put, I stepped out from behind the curtain. “I'm afraid to tell you that Georgie knows exactly what she's saying,” I said.

“What are you doing here?” Johnny asked with a short laugh of disbelief. “This is getting more melodramatic by the moment. Who invited you? Or are you the mystery person who has threatened to go to the police?”

I ignored his questions and looked at his right hand. There was no mark there. I quickly picked up the photo off the table.

Johnny pulled out his phone, but before he was able to place a call, I quickly said, “I wouldn't if I were you.”

“Really?” Jane said. “Go ahead, Johnny. Call the police. She should be locked up for trespassing.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jane grip her cane more firmly.

“I wouldn't, Johnny,” I said as I moved behind the desk, putting myself out of Jane's reach, “because I think you'll all be interested to hear what I've got to tell you about Julian and Clarissa. But if you'd prefer me to tell the police first, then by all means, call them.”

“You didn't even know Clarissa, you nosy brat. How could you possibly have anything of interest to tell us?” Caro asked. “Is this why you were trying to talk to me the other day about your bizarre interest in my sister?”

Ignoring Caro, I picked up the photo of Johnny and Julian and handed it to Johnny. “Look at it, Johnny,” I said. “And flip it over. Look at your mother's writing and if that doesn't convince you, maybe this will…” I nodded to Georgie. She walked to her handbag and pulled out a large, white envelope that had yellowed with age. She pulled out a folder and handed it to Johnny.

“Those are medical records. Your mother had been so worried about your identity that she'd gotten hold of these. You'll find that the twin with the birthmark on his hand—the twin who drowned—was indeed Johnny. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Julian.”

“This is preposterous,” Jane said. “And if you insist on pursuing this lie then I—we—will have to stop you.”

“Jane, how much of this is true?” Johnny said as he perused his old medical files.

“None of it.”