Gemma Halliday - Alibi In High Heels

I shut the door behind myself, flipping on the light switch and flooding the hotel room with florescent light. While the room was situated to get morning sun, the frilly yellow curtains were drawn tight, creating a tomb-like atmosphere that was downright creepy considering the circumstance. The bed was unmade, dozens of tiny pillows having fallen to the floor. Clothes covered the chaise, floor and arm chairs while numerous tubes of lipstick, eye shadows and concealer littered the top of the dresser.

Felix went immediately to said dresser, opening the top two drawers.

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" he asked.

"Evidence," I replied, crouching down to look under the bed.

"Of what?"

"Well, I'm not going to be terribly picky at the moment. Anything that will clearly state to the police, 'Maddie didn't do this.'"

He paused and I could feel his eyes on me.

I straightened up. "What?"

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"Oh, no. Not you, too. You know I didn't stab her, Felix."

He held his hands up in a defensive gesture. "I never said you did."

"Yeah, but you gave me a look."

"What look?"

"It was a look."

He grinned. "Yes, I was looking at you. But I was merely thinking how cute you looked all crouched like a sand crab down there on the floor with your one giant foot."

I narrowed my eyes at him and thought a really dirty word.

"Maybe I'll just go check the bathroom," he said. Then called over his shoulder, "You might want to try the desk."

"I'd already thought of that," I lied. I awkwardly hobbled across the floor, my crutch catching on a discarded Wonderbra as I tackled the small writing desk by the window, hoping that whoever Mystery Man was, he'd left some trace of himself behind.

Nothing but hotel stationary and a pen in the first drawer. The second held a mishmash of receipts, postcards, papers and a slim, silver camera. I picked the camera up and turned it over in my hands. It was one of those digital kind that could take either stills or video. I hit the power button and watched as the little screen came to life. I'll admit, I'm not the most technologically clever person on the world. I can work my ipod and check my email, but beyond that, I'm pretty much clueless. So, it took me a few minutes of aimlessly pressing menu buttons before I came to a list of what looked like video files. They were all labeled with names. Rocco. Marcel. Charlie. Roberto. Ryan. Curiosity got the better of me. I scrolled down to the one marked "Roberto" and hit the play button.

Instantly the sounds of moaning and panting filled the room as visions of naked body parts flashed across the small screen. I cringed, trying not to look as I searched for the stop button.

"What are you doing out there?" Felix called.

"Nothing!"

"It doesn't sound like nothing.

I pressed all the buttons, hoping one would work. Finally one did. Not only making the video disappear, but all the files as well. I stared at the little screen, the words "No Files Found" where Gisella Does Paris had just been.

Felix poked his head through the door.

"What was that?"

"Just a camera."

Felix raised an eyebrow. "Any pictures on it?"

"Nothing you want to see." I hoped.

He shrugged, then popped back into the bathroom.

I turned the camera off, but on the off chance the files could be retrieved, slipped it into my purse. Quite honestly, I wasn't sure I'd recognize a guy again from the videos Gisella had shot unless I went around asking men to drop their pants. But, just for good measure, I pulled out the hotel stationary and wrote down the names of all her files before I forgot them. While I couldn't remember the dates beside them, I did know they were all made in the last two months, with Ryan being the most recent, dated just two days before Gisella's murder. Which could mean nothing, but at least it was a place to start.

I moved on to the piles of papers in the desk drawer. Most were receipts from taxicab rides, boutiques, restaurants. Almost all were written in French. And though I could clearly make out the amounts she spent, I was ashamed to admit, I didn't have my Euros to dollars calculations memorized and they meant little to me. But from what I could make out of the boutiques she shopped at, Gisella had expensive taste. There were several shops in Paris whose names I recognized, as well as three top tier Italian designers.

"Hey," I called to Felix.

He popped his head back out again.

"Check the closet, would you?"

"What am I looking for?" he asked, crossing the room and sliding back the mirrored doors.

"A de la Renta coat."

Felix paused, flipping through her wardrobe. "And a de le Renta would look like…?"

"Fur."

He rummaged around. "She has three furs."

As much as I was against killing defenseless little animals for the sole purpose of looking cool, I felt my heart clench just a little. "Three?"

He nodded.

I couldn't help myself, I needed just one little look. I hobbled over to his side. Sure enough, one de la Renta, one Alta Moda, and one vintage Chanel. I ran my hand over the Chanel, making little moaning sounds that were strikingly like the ones I'd just heard on Gisella's camera. "You have any idea how much this is worth?'

Felix was checking the pockets of the Alta Moda. He shook his head. "No. Tell me."

I couldn't. It was priceless. Woman had given their first born for less.

"I can tell you, however," he said, his face breaking into a smirk, "how much this one is worth."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh really? All right, Mr. Fashion Knowledge. What's it worth?"

Felix pulled his hand out of the pocket, then held it open. In the middle of his palm glittered a necklace, three perfectly cut diamonds suspended from a thick gold chain. "Exactly five hundred and thirty-three thousand, three hundred and two dollars. Last time I had it appraised."

I sucked in a breath. "Your necklace?"

He nodded.

"Do you know what this means?"

"That I don't have to deal with the insurance company?"

"That Gisella had the necklace all along. She really did misplace it."

Felix stared down at the necklace, turning it over in his hands. "Or she'd planned on keeping it for herself."

"You mean Gisella stole it?" I raised one eyebrow in his direction. Now there was something I hadn't thought of. I was just about to ask him what prompted that train of thought when a sound outside the door made us both freeze.

"What was that?" I whispered.

Felix shook his head, shoving the necklace in his pocket. "I think that's our cue to get out of h-"

But he didn't get to finish, the sound of the door flying open cutting him off. Three policemen in blue uniforms came bursting into the room, practically filling it, guns drawn, arms straight out in front of them.

The first one shouted something in French.

"What?" I asked.

He repeated his command.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak French."

He pointed his gun at me.

Yikes! Okay, that I did speak. I put my hands up in a surrender motion.

"Look, I can explain. This is Lord Ackerman and we were just here because he left a priceless family heirloom here last time he slept with Gisella."

"I never said I slept with her," Felix protested, doing a mirror image of my hands-in-the-air thing.

"Play along," I whispered out the side of my mouth.

"Maddie, I don't think…"

But again Felix was cut off as the second officer traded in his gun for a pair of handcuffs, which he promptly placed on Felix's wrists, clasping them together behind his back.

"Wait, no, you're making a mistake," I protested. "Okay, fine we're not really here looking for a family heirloom. That was just a cover. We were looking for evidence that would clear my name. See, I'm the Couture Killer."