SIXTY-SIX

THE recording that followed told a disturbing tale in silent-movie fashion, but maddeningly lacking those all-important dialogue cards that give viewers the rest of the story.

Madame arrived at nine in the morning—about the same time she’d called me to say she had a change of heart about attending the box opening. During the call, she also mentioned being upset about her late husband keeping this mysterious legacy a secret from her.

Clearly, she’d gone to Gus for answers.

When she arrived, Gus greeted her sweetly at the gate with a kiss on each cheek, and they went inside the property, where the visit lasted for over two hours.

Did Gus tell Madame the truth about the Eye of the Cat? And why he involved Matt’s father in a scheme to hide it? Or was the conversation even more revealing? Did he confess why he was being blackmailed? And what really happened all those years ago on the sinking Andrea Doria?

Whatever they discussed, the real mystery began when Madame and Gus parted ways.

Gus took the trouble to escort Madame across the hidden courtyard and through the exterior gate. On the sidewalk, they hugged, and Gus waved as Madame strolled down the block.

Before she got very far, a familiar black Jaguar rolled quickly up to the sidewalk in front of Gus. He must have recognized the car, because instead of walking back inside the courtyard, he waited until it stopped.

The camera angle was bad, and there was glare, so I couldn’t tell if the driver was the man with the U-shaped scar. Still, I expected the woman with cat glasses to climb out of the backseat.

This time I was wrong.

When the door behind the driver opened, an old man in a spotless white suit climbed out with the help of his walking stick. That man used that stick to close the car door. Then, smirking, he faced Gus.

Sophia froze the picture so we could study more detail.

“The suit is very good quality, but it’s an old-fashioned cut,” Sophia said. “It was likely purchased in the last century. And that hair is too thick, too dark, and too long to be real. It certainly doesn’t match his age. The skeevy mustache is dyed too dark, too. This man is trying to disguise his appearance. He must be—”

—the blackmailer from Rome!” we cried in unison.

Sophia restarted the footage.

The visitor took two steps toward the gate, and Gus exploded in absolute rage. The wild gestures were threatening enough to stop the man in his tracks.

Meanwhile, just inside camera range, Madame turned to watch the entire exchange with wide eyes.

The argument was cut short when Gus made a final universally obscene gesture and retreated back through his iron gate, slamming it shut behind him, which left the man in the white suit locked out.

It should have ended there, but it didn’t. In fact, the worst was yet to come.

Madame had a curiosity like mine, and when it was piqued, she couldn’t let it go. Now I watched in helpless dread as she approached this blackmailer in the white suit.

The man’s demeanor instantly changed when he faced Madame. The smirk vanished, replaced by a snake charmer’s smile. He bowed graciously, and even kissed her hand.

After Madame and he spoke for a few minutes, the man pointed to the black Jag, offering Madame a ride.

To my horror, she accepted, allowing him to help her into the backseat. He climbed in on the other side, and the Jag sped away.

I gritted my teeth as Matt’s one-word warning popped into my head.

Vendetta.

The tension was so thick in the coffee lounge that the rattle of my smartphone startled both Sophia and me.

“Yes!” I answered.

“Clare, it’s Matt.” His voice was tense, and I knew why. “It’s Mother. I can’t find her. When her housekeeper arrived this morning, the apartment was empty. I’ve tried texting and voice mail, but she hasn’t responded. I don’t know what’s happened to her.”

God help me, I did know—and the truth scared me to death.