Looking for a missing countess

…

No one mentioned the real Countess or her sister.

Did they know?  Did Dicostini have them?  He had to.

Cecilia was very disappointed she couldn’t shoot anyone.  I was too, for different reasons.

Perhaps the only good thing to come out of it was that it didn’t look like Juliet was a party to the whole plan, just a part of it if Plan A didn’t work.

Cecelia packed up the rifle and I replaced everything in the hamper. 

“That was fun?”

“Wasn’t it?”

“How did you guess?”

“I would have sooner if the research team had done its job properly.  There was only one thing that could cause this level of trouble.  Greed.  It’s not what we usually deal with.  I prefer power-crazy megalomaniacs trying to take over the world.”

“I could write a script.  What do you think?”

“Been done to death I would think.”

“Are we going back to smash a few heads?  I feel like a little gratuitous violence, especially against that lot.”

“As tempting as those sounds, no.  We now have to do a search of every one of their properties, starting with those without any signs of life.  Long, hard, and tedious.”

“Are you trying to make it sound exciting?”

I gave her a searching look.  “You’re crazy, you know that.”

“Of course.  Why do you think I’m here with you.”

We had a week, but I was hoping it would not take that long.  There were less than ten other properties where the women could be located, and we started with the two closest.

The property we were on, now, would have to wait until after dark.  Cecelia had noted that there were a half dozen workers tending the vines during the day, as well as office and maintenance staff.  Quite a few employees for a place that wasn’t financially viable.

The nearest was another plot of vines, with a different grape variety, and I suspect possibly added from another winery that wasn’t viable.  Cecelia picked them as either Trebbiano or Vermentino, using her cell phone to identify them.

That’s how boring the search was going.  Three outbuildings that reeked of musty wine, quite a few old barrels, or barrels waiting to be filled, and old farm machinery that was rusting out.

There was also a vintage BMW under a tarpaulin that might be worth quite a sum of money.  If it didn’t have the front smashed in.  I took a photograph of the car for future reference, that thought that Anna believed Dicostini was responsible for the death of her husband.

Was that the car involved in the accident?

The second property was more of less the same as the first, but this one had a villa on it, fallen into disrepair.  There were a few people working in the fields next to the property, so we had to be careful not to be seen.

It was a large house, musty, with little furniture and large open spaces.  It must have been a comfortable place once.  I checked for a basement while Cecelia checked for an attic, or signs of life upstairs.  I found there were new locks in the doors and a room with two beds, unmade, and by the look of the dust layer, hadn’t been used in a few years.

It was an initial ray of hope very quickly snuffed out.

Day one was over, with no progress to report.  I sent a message to Rodby in code, just in case his new ‘wife’ accidentally on purpose picked up his phone.

I wondered how that was going for him.  It would be a situation he had not had to deal with before, and maybe this would hasten his thoughts to retiring and getting out of what was becoming a very dirty business.

On our way back to the hotel, Cecilia said, “What do you think Francesca’s been up to?”

“I’d be surprised if she didn’t go to see Anna.”

“For what purpose.”

“I’m sure her boss would like her to touch base, and assure her everything that can be done, is being done.”

“Except they’re waiting for us to do their job for them.”

“As long as we find them, it doesn’t matter.  It’s going to get a little tricky if we can’t liberate them without letting anyone know.  There’s no telling how much collateral damage there’ll be.”

“There never is, but I like to try and avoid it if possible.  Rodby likes his ‘by any and all means possible’, but, as you know, I operate differently.  You stick with me for too long you might lose your objectivity.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m here.  I’m usually the exact opposite.”

I would not have pegged her for an ‘all means possible’ person, but then she was an actress and was very good at being different people.  Her strength lay in being a total chameleon.  Then that picture in my mind of her with the sniper rifle at Larry’s mother’s place left me with a shiver down my spine.

I would wrap this up as quickly as possible, send her home, and go back to my once quiet life.

© Charles Heath 2023