Gemma Halliday - Alibi In High Heels

We didn't have to wait long, as a few minutes later Charlene stepped off the elevator, dressed in a light, cream colored pantsuit, a soft peach blouse underneath. A tiny frown of concern etched her features, settling between her pale blue eyes. "Sorry, to keep you waiting," she said, her lightly accented voice as evenly modulated as ever.

"No problem. Charlene, this is my friend, Dana. Dana, Felix's Aunt Charlene."

Dana raised an eyebrow at me. Then leaned in and whispered, "This is dear 'old' Auntie?"

No kidding.

"Hello, lovely to meet you." Charlene extended a hand in Dana's direction.

She shook it as Charlene perched straight backed on the edge of an armchair facing us.

"So, what is it I can do for you today, Maddie?" Charlene asked.

"I wanted to ask you about Felix."

"So you said on the telephone."

"Specifically…" I looked to Dana, not sure how to broach the subject in the face of Charlene's very prim and proper demeanor.

Dana rolled her eyes at me. "We were wondering if he's shown any special interest in fashion lately?"

Charlene raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "I think everyone in Paris has this week, don't you?"

"I mean, maybe less recently than that. In the last few months," I said, thinking back to when Angelica said Gisella had signed on at Donata's agency.

The little frown lines deepened and I steeled myself against warning her that she was going to have to Botox that out if she kept it up.

"I'm not really sure I know what you're getting at. As I'm sure you know, Felix doesn't really, uh, dress to trends," she said. A kind way to describe his fashion sense.

"Let me ask you something else," I decided. "Have you ever heard of the model Donatello Gardini?"

"Yes."

I sat up straighter, suddenly on high alert. "You have?"

Charlene nodded slowly. "He was quite well known in Europe in the seventies. One of the first male models to catch the public's attention, I believe. Though, I'll admit, it's not a name I've heard much talk about."

"You haven't?" I shot Dana an I-told-you-so look.

"No, as you'd expect he's long gone from the scene, by now."

"So, no one has, say, been asking you questions about him?" Dana asked.

She shook her. Then gave a small smile. "Just you."

"Not, say, Felix?" Dana pressed.

She cocked her head to the side, blonde hair falling over one shoulder. "No," she said slowly. "Why would he?"

Dana shrugged. "Well… I thought perhaps he might be an… acquaintance of Felix's."

"Not as far as I know. Donatello has been long gone from the fashion scene. You have to remember, this was before anyone really paid attention to male models. From what I understand, he was hot for a season or two, then faded into relative obscurity."

Or so Donata would have liked people to believe.

"So, you don't happen to have any of his magazines or photos do you?"

"But, of course."

Dana nudged me in the ribs and shot me an I-told-you-so look of her own. "You do?"

She shrugged. "I'll admit, I'm a bit of a fashion groupie. I've got back issues of Vogue since 1963. Donatello is in quite a few of the early issues."

"Where are these magazines?" I asked.

"Back at the castle. I'm sorry, I really don't understand what this has to do with anything," Charlene said, standing up. "And, I don't mean to be rude, but I really must be going or I'll be late for the Hermes show."

"Of course," I said, gathering my crutches and rising. "I don't want to take up any more of your time. Thanks so much."

Once she had crossed the lobby, her backside swaying Marilyn Monroe-esque in her tight skirt, Dana rounded on me. "See! I told you Felix knew about Donatello!"

I shook my head. "Just because his aunt has fashion magazines with the guy's picture in them doesn't mean Felix was blackmailing Donata."

"No, but he could have been."

I bit my lip. "Okay, fine. He could have been." I paused. "But you heard what Charlene said. If Donatello was really such a big deal way back when, anyone with some time on their hands could have dug up those old pictures. And any one of the people on our suspects list knows more about fashion and the industry than Felix."

Dana let out a long sigh. "Yeah. You're right. Which I guess brings us back to square one." She looked down at her watch. "Listen, I have to get down to the tents for my final fitting. I'll see you there later?"

I nodded. "I told Jean Luc I'd be in at three."

Dana and I split, her catching a cab and me heading for the elevators back up to my room. I stopped at Mom and Mrs. Rosenblatt's first, but no one was in. I was beginning to wonder about those two. I briefly contemplated calling Mom's cell, but I knew that meant explaining the whole arrest thing and honestly, I just didn't have the energy for that at the moment.

Instead, I walked across the hall to my own room, threw open the door, and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

I closed my eyes.

Obviously Gisella was the key to all this. Why had she been killed in the first place? She had taken an awful risk stealing so many jewels this week. And Jean Luc had been in a tizzy about the necklace. Sooner or later, he would have realized it was stolen. Sooner or later one of the designers would have called the police in. Considering this, it had been especially bold of Gisella to wear it out to a party the night before pocketing it.

The party. Had that been the catalyst? Had the killer seen her wearing it and realized she was getting too reckless?

So, who'd been at the party?

Felix, of course, I reluctantly admitted. Angelica. Ryan. Donata, though by her current deceased status, she obviously wasn't the killer.

I went over the conversation that I'd had with Felix about Gisella and his last night with her. I'd been a little preoccupied with Ramirez walking into the room at the time, but something had bugged me about Felix's story even then. Felix had readily admitted to arguing with Gisella, but he'd sworn he hadn't slept with her. And, oddly enough, I was inclined to believe him. (And no, not because he was a good kisser. Not that I was even admitting that he was. He wasn't. At least, not that good.) What reason would he have to lie about it now? So, unless Angelica was making things up, someone else had been in Gisella's room before Felix.

I got up and grabbed my purse, rummaging around until I found the camera and the list of names I'd pulled from it. I turned the camera on, hoping that maybe the files would have miraculously reappeared. Not such luck. I hit a few buttons and pulled up a couple of beautiful pictures Gisella had taken of the Eiffel Tower that made me sigh with envy, but no video files. I mentally thunked my head against the wall. The best evidence we'd had of her accomplice and I'd erased it. Some days, I swore I really was blonde.

In lieu of actual video, I pulled out the list of file names I'd written down. Had one of these guys been the Mystery Man in her room that night? What if he was her partner? They'd had sex, he'd left, then told her to meet him at the tents early that morning. Where he'd killed her.

Rocco. Marcel. Charlie. Roberto. Ryan.

I'd already met Ryan. And while he wasn't totally cleared as a suspect, the way Gisella had dumped him for Felix didn't speak of a continuing criminal partnership to me. Angelica had said Rocco was a one night stand and Roberto was in New York. Both unlikely candidates. That left Marcel and Charlie.

I took my list and went downstairs to the business center and booted up a computer. Going on the assumption that Gisella's partner in crime had ties to the fashion industry, I figured I would see what I could dig up on the two names. I had to admit, I felt slightly awkward at the unfamiliar terminal. I wished Mom and Mrs. R were around to do this for me, as I tried to punch in Google keywords to narrow my search.