The American Contessa (17 page)

“Just
wondering,” Carmina said calmly.
 
They
looked at each other for a moment in silence, then Carmina continued, “You
know, Gaby said something else about her Grandfather that piqued my interest.”

“I,
for one, am really not interested Carmina,” he replied shortly.

She
ignored him and persisted, “It seems when Clinton Walker originally stole the
necklace, he did so at a party, here at the Villa.”

“So?”
he asked, with an indifferent shrug.

“Would
you like to know the name of the woman who got him the invitation?”

“Not
really.”

“Well,
I’ll tell you anyway.
 
It was
Anna.
”

Luca’s
head rose from his hands, “Anna?”

“Yes,
Anna Barisconi
.
 
Better known by her married name as Countess
Anna Maria Manetti; or
Nonna
.”
 
Luca continued to stare at her.
 
“Still not interested how she got the
necklace?” she said with smirk.

*****

Gaby
unlocked the door to her brownstone, dragging her suitcases behind her.
 
Coming home had been an ordeal.
 
A storm in the Atlantic had caused all European
flights to be delayed and she’d spent almost as much time in the departure
lounge than on the actual plane.
 
The
normally ten hour travelling time extended to twenty, and all she wanted now
was a hot shower and a bed to lay her head on before it imploded.
 

She’d
tried with all her might not to cry in public, and held on as long as she
could, but the tears fell of their own accord the moment she settled into her
seat on the plane.
 
The hostess politely asked
if she was all right, and she nodded and sniffed; her eyes red and puffy.
 
After that, the crew basically left her alone
to sob in silence or morosely stare out the window into the clouds. Having
bawled for at least five thousand of the six thousand miles from Florence to
Boston, she was now officially all cried out and positive she didn’t have
another drop of moisture left in her body.

Walking
into her bedroom she noticed the answering machine blinking rapidly, and with a
burst of energy that came out of nowhere, she bolted for it.
 
Pressing the play button, she waited as the
mechanical voice told her she had two new messages.
 
Her heart in her throat, she waited anxiously
for them to start.

Message
one was only a fellow teacher asking if she had the schedules for the coming
year.
 
Message two … was her sister
Grace, telling her to call her back the moment she came home.
 

Gaby
sighed heavily.
 
Did she really expect
him to call after what he’d said and the coldness in his eyes?
 
Did she really think he felt anything but
contempt for her?
 
Lecturing herself to
keep it together, she undressed and headed for the shower.

Five
hours later, after a scalding shower and short sleep, Gaby felt much more
herself and less like the walking dead.
 
She unpacked her bags quickly, but paused slightly when removing the
dresses that seemed so out of place now she had returned home.
 
Putting them at the back of her closet she
tried not to think about the appreciative looks that Luca had bestowed on her while
wearing them and how he’d stripped her of them in the heat of passion.

The
phone rang loudly, bursting her bubble of reverie and bringing her back to
earth.
 
“Hello?” she answered absently.

“Where
have you been? And why haven’t you returned my call?”

“Grace?”
Gaby frowned.
 
Her baby sister was
certainly direct.

“Yes,
it’s Grace,” came to tart reply, “Now why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell
you about what?” she asked in bewilderment.

Grace
groaned in frustration, “I had a call from the Sunset Care Facility.
 
They were looking for you and I was next on
the list of contact relatives for Gran-pop.”

Gaby
bit her lip, “You know?”

“Yes,
I know.
 
Why, oh why didn’t you call me?”
she chastised.
 
“For heaven’s sake, he’s
my Grandfather too.”

“What
good would it have done Grace?
 
I mean
you have as little money as I do.”

There
was a long pause on the other end of the phone.
 
“That’s not exactly the case,” Grace finally said.

“What
do you mean?”

“I
mean … I mean I sold a painting,” she answered, brimming over with excitement.

“You
sold …”

“Yes,”
Grace said happily.
 
“And it’s more than
enough to cover Gran-pop’s expenses.”

Gaby
let out a long sigh.
 
She couldn’t
believe it.
 
She knew that Grace was
exhibiting her work with a small independent gallery as well as working at the
auction house, but she had no idea that her art could command such a high price.
 

She
shook her head in disbelief.
 
The trip to
Italy hadn’t been necessary after all.
 
The
problem could have all been taken care of if she had only confided in her baby sister.
 
None of it had to have happened.
 

The
fact that all of her heartbreak could have been avoided was of little comfort
to her now.
 
The horse had bolted, too
late to shut the barn.

 
“Gaby, are you still there?”

“Yes,
I’m here.
 
That’s wonderful Grace and
such a relief.
 
I have to tell you, I
wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do for money, short of robbing a bank.”
 
She frowned, realising what she’d said.
 

“Well,
it’s all settled now.
 
The cheque is on
its way as we speak.
 
So tell me, just
where have you been the last three weeks?”

Gaby
almost burst into tears, but instead cleared her throat and lied, “Grace … can
I call you back, I think there’s someone at the door.”

“Oh,
… okay.
 
Call me back later and we’ll
chat.”

“Sure
thing.”
 
Placing the phone back on the
receiver, she cursed loudly.
 
Damn!
 
She hated lying to Grace.
 
But the thought of retelling the whole story
again was more than she could bear.
 
Good
grief, were tears forming in her eyes again?

“I’m
sorry to say I told you so, but …”

“Enough
gloating
Nonna,
” Luca warned, “You
were right, let’s leave it at that.”

The
Contessa held her hand out to him and he joined her on the settee in her bedroom.
 
“I’m so glad you came to visit –you don’t
come enough to Milano to see me.
 
It’s a
beautiful city, and you know this house will be yours when I’m gone.”

Luca
cringed.
 
Why must the elderly always
speak of death so haphazardly?
 
“I’m sure
you’ll outlive me
Nonna
; and you know
it.”

Her
laughter fluttered around him and he couldn’t help but notice how lighthearted
she was.
 
It appeared that
Nonna’s
spirits had lifted considerably
since Gaby’s departure.
 
Her sudden
happiness was unexpected, and for some inexplicable reason, it bothered him
immensely.
 

He
couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if his Grandmother hadn’t
interfered.
 
Would Gaby have simply
continued looking for the necklace, stringing him along until she found it.
 
Or would she have gambled on the bigger prize
of becoming a Countess; enjoying his money and title for as long as she had the
taste for it.
 
He’d never know.
 
But resenting his
Nonna
was certainly not the answer.
 
Yes, she had interfered and discovered the truth.
 
But if anything, Gaby had caused her own
demise from his life.
 
His Grandmother
was just the catalyst that revealed her treachery.
 

Gaby
.
 
He closed his eyes and imagined her sweet face looking lovingly into his
own.
 
But it hadn’t been love –it had been
lies, all lies.
 
Two months had passed since
she’d left his life and he was still coming to terms with the enormity of the
hole she’d left in his heart.
 
He’d tried
to fill it with parties at the Villa and at his country home, but the
loneliness he felt, even when surrounded by a room full of people, was deep and
unwavering.
 
He wondered what she was
doing.
 
School would have started by now.
 
Did she even spare a moment to think of him?
 

He
shook his head to banish the thoughts invading it.
 
She was no good.
 
A liar.
 
A thief.
 
And he was better off
without her.
 
“Shall we dine on the
terrace tonight?” his
Nonna
was
asking him.
 
He nodded and she smiled
back with a look of triumph.
 

Her
satisfied demeanour was again making him incredibly agitated and uncomfortable.
 
Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Carmina’s
voice filled his head, “Still not interested how she got the necklace?”, and
suddenly he
was
interested,
very
interested.
 

Although
Carmina had tried once more to broach the subject with him after Gaby left, he
had screamed and raged so angrily at her, she had never mentioned it again.
 
He hadn’t wanted to hear anything Gaby
related; it hurt far too much.
 
But now
…, now that his anger had parlayed into sheer and abiding pain –maybe it was
time to find out just how his
Nonna
came to have the necklace in her possession.
 

“
Nonna
, I’ve been meaning to ask
you.
 
That is …, I was wondering …,”
 

“What
is it Luca?
 
You seem distressed,” she
replied calmly.

Luca
decided to put it straight to her, no dilly dallying around, “About the
necklace?
 
How did you get it?
 
I mean, how did you know where Walker hid it?”

Her
eyebrows arched in surprise, “Clinton Walker was a scoundrel.
 
He deserved to be in prison for what he did.”

“That
doesn’t answer my question.”
 
 
Luca prodded further, “According to Walker,
you invited him to the party knowing he was a thief.
 
Why invite a thief into your home?”

“Well,
it wasn’t my home just yet.
 
The Count
and I had just become engaged.”

“Once
again, you’ve avoided my question.”
 

She
stiffened, “Do you work for the
Polizia
now
or something Luca.
 
Why the interest in
something that happened so long ago?”

“When
it affects what happens now, I’m interested,” he replied with a hint of determination.
  
He stared at her until her eyes backed down.
 
Why wouldn’t she answer him directly?
 
Usually she was nothing if not forthright in
her manner.
 

“If
you must know, although I invited him, I didn’t suspect he would steal from
me
.
 
When I discovered him leaving the Count’s quarters, I followed him and
called the police.
 
I saw him hide the
necklace when the sirens started.
 
They
didn’t catch him red-handed like I’d hoped.
 
He got away.”

Luca
frowned at her admission.
 
“But all this
time you
knew
he didn’t get away with
the necklace.
 
The police, everyone,
thought it was stolen.
 
And I might add,
the insurance company paid out a pretty penny in compensation at the time.”

“Yes,
they did,” she smiled delightedly.

Getting
up and walking to the window, Luca tried to comprehend her behaviour.
 
She actually seemed proud to have swindled the
insurance company out of thousands of dollars.
 
“But why would you associate with someone like him in the first place?”
he asked in confusion.

She
shrugged.
 
“Clint was a favourite of the
crowd I ran around with at the time; even though his social standing wasn’t entirely
clear.
 
He was completely charming and quite
frankly, devastatingly handsome.”
 
She
continued, oblivious to the disapproving look her Grandson was throwing her way,
“The truth is, when I invited him, I thought he was going to steal Baroness
Borlotti’s diamond tiara at the party,
not
my necklace.
 
He told me the tiara was
his target.
 
I trusted him and he lied to
me.
 
If only he’d been caught with the
necklace as I’d hoped –but when that didn’t happen I made the best of it by
getting the necklace –and the insurance money.”

“You
knew
he was going to steal from a
guest at your party?
 
And you
approved?”
 

“Certainly
I did,” she chuckled, “I always hated the Baroness; so pretentious, and she
flirted outrageously with every man she met.
 
It would have served her right.”

Luca
swallowed hard and continued looking out the window.
 
He couldn’t look her in the face, for he was
sure his shock would show all too clearly.
 
“So you allowed Clinton Walker to steal from the people you knew.
 
Tell me, did you receive any payment for your
help in his crimes?”

“Of
course not Luca.
 
Don’t be ridiculous,”
she stated haughtily.
 

He
turned to her with desolate eyes, “Then what
did
you get out of it?”

The
Contessa’s chin rose in the air, “Personal satisfaction.
 
Those who crossed me, paid for it.
 
In the only way that truly hurt them –their
wealth.”

Although
difficult, Luca kept his cool, his voice level and controlled. “Were you ever in
contact with Clinton Walker again?
 
Did
you continue this larcenous behaviour after marrying my Grandfather?”

“No,”
she replied sharply.
 
“I never saw him
again.
 
Never wanted to.
 
He’d lied to me.
 
I heard he married sometime in the late
fifties.
 
I then heard he was in the
South of France –up to his old tricks again no doubt.
 
So I warned the French authorities, and they
evidently caught him, as I next heard that he was in prison.
 
He sent me a letter after he got out.
 
Apparently he was trying to go straight.”

She
got up and moved towards the back of her bedroom. “I still have the letter in
my safe.
 
Would you care to see it?”

Luca
sat down on the settee she had vacated.
 
His head fell into his hands.
 
His
Grandmother was no better than Gaby’s Grandfather.
 
But at least Clinton Walker had paid for his
sins with prison time.
 
From the way she
spoke, his
Nonna
didn’t even believe
she’d done anything wrong.
  
He swore
softly under his breath.
 
He’d called
Gaby a liar and thief when she was only trying to help her family out of love.
 
And his own flesh and blood had lied and helped
steal for the sole purpose of making people she disliked unhappy.

“Here
it is.”
 
She gladly handed over the
yellowing envelope.
 
“Read it –the lies
are quite amusing in retrospect.”

Luca
took the letter and opened it carefully.
 
He read it aloud.

Dear Anna,

For you are still
dear to me after all these years.
 
I
write you this in the hope that you will forgive me.
 
I was a stupid fool all those years ago
declaring my love for you when I knew you were promised to another.
 
I know now that your marrying the Count was
for the best and that I could never have given you the life you deserved, being
what I was.
 

I took the necklace
to hurt you.
 
When you rejected me that
night on the terrace, I was beside myself with jealousy and I knew the necklace
was an important part of the Count’s family tradition.
 
I’m sorry now for any pain I may have caused
you, but know this.
 
I did love you, and
for that I will
never
be sorry.

As to the whereabouts
of the necklace –my life will serve as a clue.
 
You always did like puzzles, if I remember rightly.
  
Puzzles and
Dostoyevsky.

Stay well.

Clinton Walker

Luca
looked up at her, “Dostoyevsky?” he asked with a frown.

“Crime
and Punishment,” she said with a smirk, “It was a favourite of mine.”

Standing
abruptly, Luca handed her back the letter.
 
“He was in love with you.”

“So
he says.
 
But then lies were second
nature to him,” she declared with venom.

Luca
looked at his Grandmother –really looked at her.
 
She was diminutive but determined.
 
Hard and unrelenting in her hatred.
 
Is this how he would be if he continued on
the path he was on; believing that only his viewpoint mattered and nothing
else.
 
He looked at the letter in her
hand and then glanced towards the open safe behind her.
 
“What else do you have in there?” he asked
harshly.
 

“Luca,
no!”
 
She stepped in front of him and
tried to block his way.

It
only made him more determined.
 
He pushed
past her and stood before the box that held all his Grandmother’s valuable
possessions.
 
He hesitated reaching in,
but the temptation was too great and her anxious pleading fell on deaf ears.

Boxes
of jewellery were stacked neatly to one side.
 
On the other side were papers.
 
From
what he could tell they were mostly official looking documents and letters
–stacks of letters.
 
Luca pulled out a
bundle; the postmark catching his attention.
 
“California,” he said quietly.
 
He
glanced at his Grandmother, who stood stoically by his side.
 
“These are from my mother –to my father.
 
But why do
you
have them?”

“Your
father was weak.”

“That’s
not an answer,” he blazed back at her.

“He
didn’t know his own mind.”

“
That’s not an answer
,” Luca roared in
anger.