Category: Travel

Searching for locations: New York from a different perspective

It is an amazing coincidence that both times we have flown into New York, it is the day after the worst snow storms.

The first time, we were delayed out of Los Angeles and waited for hours before the plane left.  We had a free lunch and our first introduction to American hamburgers and chips.  Wow!

I had thought we had left enough time with connections to make it in time for New Year’s Eve, like four to five hours before.  As it turned out, we arrived in New York at 10:30, and thanks to continual updating with our limousine service, he was there to take us to the hotel.

The landing was rough, the plane swaying all over the place and many of the passengers were sick.  Blankets were in short supply!

We made it to the hotel, despite snow, traffic, and the inevitable problems associated with NYE in New York, with enough time to throw our baggage in the room, put on our anti cold clothes, and get out onto the streets.

We could not go to Times Square but finished up at Central Park with thousands of others, in time to see the ball drop on a big screen, exchange new year’s greetings, and see the fireworks.

Then, as luck would have it, we were able to get an authentic New York hotdog, just before the police moved the vendor on, and our night was complete.

The second time we were the last plane out of Los Angeles to New York.  After waiting and waiting, we boarded, and then started circling the airport waiting for takeoff permission.  We stopped once to refuel, and then the pilot decided we were leaving.

This time we took our eldest granddaughter, who was 9 at the time, and she thought it was an adventure.  It was.

When we landed, we were directed to an older part of the airport, a disused terminal.  We were not the only plane to land, at about one in the morning, but one of about four.  The terminal building filled very quickly, and we were all waiting for baggage.  The baggage belts broke so there were a lot of porters bring the baggage in by hand.

One part of the terminal was just a sea of bags.  To find ours our granddaughter, who, while waiting, sat on top of the cabin baggage playing her DSI until the announcement our bags were available, walked across the top of the bags till she found them.  Thankfully no one was really looking in her direction.

Once again we kept our limousine service updated, and, once we knew what terminal we were at, he came to pick us up.  This time we arrived some days before NYE, so there was not so much of a rush.  We got to the hotel about 3:30 in the morning, checked in, and then went over the road to an all-night diner where we ordered hamburgers and chips.

And a Dr. Pepper.

The cinema of my dreams – It ended in Sorrento – Episode 64

What is Juliet’s game?

…

Juliet was waiting for me by the car where we left it.

By that time, I was almost ready to strangle her with my bare hands.

“Where did you go?”

“Away from trouble.  I waited until I was sure you were not going to be killed, then I left.”  She held out the gun by the barrel.  “I figured you would have been able to take that guy with the gun, and there was no point being captured with it.”

She was right, but that didn’t make me any less angry.

I took it and unlocked the car.

“Where are the women?”

“He doesn’t know.  Worse still, he had no idea that another woman was taken at the same time.”

“You believe him?”

“Given the circumstances of seeing the woman that was going to solve all your problems dead on the floor had a way of making you believable.  No one is that good an actor.”

She looked at me with a strange expression.  “You have one working with you.”

“Her mother wasn’t killed in front of her.  Not the same.”

“Square one then?”

“It might be.  If he didn’t know where they were or wanted to, it’s like as not they are not on any of his properties.  If he didn’t care what happened to the countess, that doesn’t mean the same for those who are holding her, or Mrs Rodby.  They’ll know, eventually a reward will be offered., and we’re giving them one.”

I called Cecilia.  “How’s the search going.  I assume the fact you haven’t called me means you’ve found nothing?”

“Zip.  This Dicostini has a lot of dud property.  Maybe someone should tell him to build a resort rather than try to grow grapes.  There’d be a lot more money in it.”

“I think he has more problems than that to worry about right now.”

“How did you go?”

“Kept the place under surveillance waiting to see if the fake countess was hiding at his place.  She was.  She came out, and they had an argument. And he killed her.”

“What?  Shot her?”

“He hit her in a moment of temper, she fell awkwardly hitting her head on the table, dead before she hit the floor.”

“That makes things a little difficult.  I assume you didn’t get the location of the two women?”

“You assume correctly.”

“Then they could be anywhere?”

“Maybe, maybe not.  I’m going to give you a name and address.  Get onto Anthony and find out where he lives, then park yourself outside until you hear from me.  I have a hunch but be prepared to waste some time if it doesn’t pan out.  Take Alfie with you.  Leave Francesca, there’s nothing she can do now.”

“What are you planning?”

“Offering a huge reward for Mrs Rodby.  I think we can safely say the countess is either dead or will be when Dicostini calls the kidnappers.”

“Wouldn’t they just kill her too.  Faces?

“They might, but if they’re good, that won’t be a problem.  Getting a bigger payday is.  Everybody has a price.”

“Even you?”

“When I figure out how to disappear, maybe.  Go.  Times wasting.”

I thought about starting the car, then didn’t.

It was not enough that so many different scenarios were running through my head when the call finally came.  I was sure now the main game was over, they side players would be looking for a slice of the action.

There were only two candidates.  One seemed improbably, which made it the more likely, the other the logical choice, but unlikely.  It all depended on how fast Anthony could get the wanted poster out there.

In the meantime, I had another more perplexing problem.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Juliet.

She looked at me strangely.  “You asked me.”

“I mean what are you doing here in Italy?”

She kept looking at me as if I was mad.

“I was setting up for a conference.”

She looked earnest, but there was something in her manner.

“Are you really that pathologist.  I mean for a down and out doctor how could such a disgraced person get a foot back in the door?”

Her look of bemusement turned to annoyance.  “Tell me what you really think?  It took a lot of banging on doors and grovelling.”

I shook my head.  That wasn’t the whole story.

“Why so I keep running into you?”

“Fate.  Serendipity.  The universe telling us we didn’t end things properly the last time.”

Words.  Words that had a certain ring to them.  I shook my head. 

“Fate is a load of bollocks, Juliet.”

“You can call me Julie if you like.  It sounds better.”

“This is not done with, not by a long chalk.”

© Charles Heath 2023

Searching for locations: A bus tour of Philadelphia, USA

The Philadelphia Bus Tour, what we did see

To start with, we first joined this tour at stop number 6.

We had to find it first and that meant some pedestrian navigation, which took us first to the City Hall, a rather imposing structure, which we found later had a profound effect on Philadelphia sports teams.

According to the map, stop number 6 is Reading Terminal Market, Convention Centre, on 12th street on Filbert.  This was where we bought the tickets and boarded the bus that had a rather interesting guide aboard.

His favorite says was “And we’re good to go.”

Soon we would discover that his commentary was more orientated towards a younger audience, not that it bothered us.

Given the time restraints, we had, this was always going to be about looking and learning.

Stop number 7

City hall, Love Park.

This we had seen on our walk from where we left the car at the Free Library, near the Swann Memorial Fountain in Logan Park, the landmark that Rebecca had remembered from her last visit to Philadelphia.  Of course, then, it was not quite so frozen.

Love park, of course, was only notable to us in that it had a sculpture in place with the word Love rather stylized.  Apart from that, you’d hardly know it as a park

The city hall, well, that was something else, and when we looked at it, before going on the tour, it was a rather magnificent stone edifice.

After, well the guide filled us in, tallest building, highest and largest monument on William Penn, you get the gist.  37 feet tall, when eclipsed, the Philly sports teams all suffered slumps of one kind or another, until the problem was rectified.  Interesting story.

Stop number 8

18th Street and the Benjamin Franklin Parkway, or Logan Circle

This is the location of the Cathedral Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul.  A place where the Pope decided to give an audience and sent the city into a spin.

The same church has very high windows for the reason in the early days there was a problem with people wanting to throw Molotov cocktails through the windows.  A bit hard when they’re so high up.

Benjamin Franklin Parkway, of course, is interesting in itself as an avenue, not only for all of the flags of many nations of those who chose to live in Philadelphia.  We found ours, the one for Australia

This was also the stop where we needed to get off once the tour was finished, and time to head to the car, and go home, but that’s another story.

Stop number 10

Is that the stature of the Thinker, made famous, at least for me, from the old Dobie Gillis episodes, of God knows how many years ago?

Or, maybe it’s just the Rodin Museum on Benjamin Franklin Parkway.

There’s a whole story to go with that Statue and the fact it is one of many all over the world.

This one was made in France, cast in 1919 in Bronze, and is approximately 200cm x 130 cm by 140cm.

Stop number 11

Eastern State Penitentiary.  NW corner of 22nd Street and Fairmont Avenue.

This had a rather interesting story attached to it and had something to do with ghosts, but I wasn’t listening properly to the guide’s monologue.

But, later research shows, the fact it was once the most famous and expensive prison in the world.  Many also think it is haunted and is a favorite for visiting paranormal visitors.

Built around 1829, it was the first prison to have separate cells for prisoners.  It held, at various times, the likes of Al Capone and Willie Sutt

Stop number 18

The Philadelphia Museum of art, where we stop for a few minutes and look at the steps which were immortalized in the movie Rocky, yes he ran god knows how far to end up on the top of these steps.

Sorry, but I’m not that fit that I would attempt walking up them.  The view is just fine from inside the bus.  Of course, they might consider cleaning the windows a little so the view was clearer, but because it’s basically Perspex and scratched so that might not be possible.

Stop number 17

Back at Logan Circle, or Square if you prefer, but on the other side, closer to the Franklin Institute.  Benjamin Franklin’s name is used a lot in this city.

After that, it’s a blur, the Academy of Music, the University of the Arts, Pennsylvania Hospital, South Street, Vietnam Veterans Memorial, the USS Olympia, Penn’s Landing, and past the National Liberty Museum.  I’m sure somewhere in that blur was the intention of seeing the Liberty Bell, but I think I heard that it was not on show, and only a replica could be seen.

So much for the getting as an opportunity to see the real liberty bell, crack and all..

We get off and stop number 27, or Number 1, I was not quite sure.

What were we after?  The definitive Philly Cheese Steak.

Searching for locations: Washington DC, USA

Washington is a city with bright shiny buildings and endless monuments, each separated by a long walk or a taxi ride if you can find one.

We might have picked the wrong day, shortly after New Year’s Day when the crowds were missing along with everything else.  Or, conversely, it was probably the right time to go, when we didn’t have to battle the crowds.

Sunny but very cold, the walking warmed us up.

First stop was the Lincoln Memorial

DSC00833

It was built to honor the 16th President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln.

It is located on the western end of the National Mall in Washington, D.C., across from the Washington Monument.

DSC00834

The building is in the form of a Greek Doric temple and contains a large seated sculpture of Abraham Lincoln and inscriptions of two well-known speeches by Lincoln.

The next stop was the Washington Monument

DSC00840

The Washington Monument is an obelisk on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., built to commemorate George Washington. Construction of the monument began in 1848 and not completed until 1888.  It was officially opened October 9, 1888.


We then took a taxi ride to the Jefferson Memorial

DSC00851

This monument is dedicated to Thomas Jefferson (1743–1826), one of the most important of the American Founding Fathers as the main drafter and writer of the Declaration of Independence.

Construction of the building began in 1939 and was completed in 1943.

The bronze statue of Jefferson was added in 1947.

Skeletons in the closet, and doppelgangers

A story called “Mistaken Identity”

…

How many of us have skeletons in the closet that we know nothing about? The skeletons we know about generally stay there, but those we do not, well, they have a habit of coming out of left field when we least expect it.

In this case, when you see your photo on a TV screen with the accompanying text that says you are wanted by every law enforcement agency in Europe, you’re in a state of shock, only to be compounded by those same police, armed and menacing, kicking the door down.

I’d been thinking about this premise for a while after I discovered my mother had a boyfriend before she married my father, a boyfriend who was, by all accounts, the man who was the love of her life.

Then, in terms of coming up with an idea for a story, what if she had a child by him that we didn’t know about, which might mean I had a half brother or sister I knew nothing about. It’s not an uncommon occurrence from what I’ve been researching.

There are many ways of putting a spin on this story.

Then, in the back of my mind, I remembered a story an acquaintance at work was once telling us over morning tea, that a friend of a friend had a mother who had a twin sister and that each of the sisters had a son by the same father, without each knowing of the father’s actions, both growing up without the other having any knowledge of their half brother, only to meet by accident on the other side of the world.

It was an encounter that in the scheme of things might never have happened, and each would have remained oblivious of the other.

For one sister, the relationship was over before she discovered she was pregnant, and therefore had not told the man he was a father. It was no surprise the relationship foundered when she discovered he was also having a relationship with her sister, a discovery that caused her to cut all ties with both of them and never speak to either from that day.

It’s a story with more twists and turns than a country lane!

And a great idea for a story.

That story is called ‘Mistaken Identity’.

The Cinema of My Dreams – It ended in Sorrento – Episode 65

No way to run an operation

…

Cecelia called me when she was in place, waiting.

“Who’s there?”

“A woman, two small children, and a maid.”

“No man of the house?”

“No.  She spoke on the phone about an hour ago and didn’t look happy.  Who is she?”

“Someone you might have to shoot, so don’t get attached.  Wait till I call you first, then invite yourselves in.  Does it look expensive?”

“She does, and yes.  It’s very posh.  Why?”

“Curiosity.”

We were back in the hotel room.  Francesca was working her way through a bottle of red wine.

“I can go now if you like.  Cecelia told me the countess was dead.  My work is done,” she said morosely.

“Not yet.  Can’t have you telling people information I don’t want them to know yet.  We still have people to catch.”

“OK.  Does your current squeeze realise this one has feelings for you?”  She nodded in Juliet’s direction, stopping her in her tracks.

“It’d be misplaced affection.  Right now, she’s at the top of my shoot first and asks questions later list.”

“You know, if you don’t want to end up grumpy and lonely, you are going to have to work on your small talk.  I don’t think women go for this shoot first thing.  Whatever; just thought you ought to know.”

I glared at Juliet.  “Is that what this is about, you being here?”

“Why on earth would you think that.  You’re probably the snarkiest person I’ve ever met.  She’s right, you need to work on your small talk.”

Then proceeded to turn around and go into one of the rooms, slamming the door.

“Exactly,” Francesca said.

13 minutes after that the call came.

Male voice, distorted.

“You are looking for an Englishwoman, Martha Rodby, yes.”

“Yes.”

“We know where she is, and once the money is transferred, we will tell you.”

“Nice try.  You get the money, in a duffle bag, when I see her with my own eyes.  No mirrors, no magic, no obstacle courses, and multiple phone booths and time limits.  You tell me where and when and I’ll be there.”

“Alone?”

“If you’re not stupid, and I don’t think you are, there will be plenty of people around.  Dark alleys and dank tunnels are not my thing.”

“I’ll call you back soon with the details.”

It was a quick call, so he was worried about me tracing it.  I was not, or at least I wasn’t, but Alfie might.

A message popped up, after making a dinging sound.  “Call came from Rome, can pin it down to a half kilometre square.”

I typed in, “Don’t bother.  I know who it is.”

He couldn’t help himself.  “Who?”

I ignored it.

“Your kidnapper?”

“A concerned citizen.”

“Your kidnapper.  Do you ever say anything that means anything?”

“I try not to.  You do know my shadowy world consists of nothing by lies and deception, and smoke and mirrors?”

“Do you actually get anything done?”

“Mostly not, but at least this time I haven’t got to kill anyone.  Yet.”

“You should tell your girlfriend that?”

“Which one, according to you?”

“Juliet.  You want to tell her you don’t have feelings for her.”

“Are you trying to annoy me?”

She gave me one of those looks, yes, I’d known her long enough to be able to classify them.

“How did your wife actually put up with you all those years?”

“I’m sure it made interesting reading?”

“What?”

“My file.”

She smiled.  “It did.  My boss thought if I stuck close enough, I might learn something.  I did.  Stick to Art History.  By the way, I like you too, but I’m not going to compete with those other two.  Oh, and I assume you have a plan or will have a plan by tomorrow, on how to take this guy down?”

“You assume correctly.”

“Good.  Do I get a gun?”

“No.”

“Just when relations were improving.  Do you want anything from room service?  I’m getting some pasta.”

I sighed.  This was no way to run an operation.

© Charles Heath 2023

Searching for locations: Washington DC, USA

Washington is a city with bright shiny buildings and endless monuments, each separated by a long walk or a taxi ride if you can find one.

We might have picked the wrong day, shortly after New Year’s Day when the crowds were missing along with everything else.  Or, conversely, it was probably the right time to go, when we didn’t have to battle the crowds.

Sunny but very cold, the walking warmed us up.

First stop was the Lincoln Memorial

DSC00833

It was built to honor the 16th President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln.

It is located on the western end of the National Mall in Washington, D.C., across from the Washington Monument.

DSC00834

The building is in the form of a Greek Doric temple and contains a large seated sculpture of Abraham Lincoln and inscriptions of two well-known speeches by Lincoln.

The next stop was the Washington Monument

DSC00840

The Washington Monument is an obelisk on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., built to commemorate George Washington. Construction of the monument began in 1848 and not completed until 1888.  It was officially opened October 9, 1888.


We then took a taxi ride to the Jefferson Memorial

DSC00851

This monument is dedicated to Thomas Jefferson (1743–1826), one of the most important of the American Founding Fathers as the main drafter and writer of the Declaration of Independence.

Construction of the building began in 1939 and was completed in 1943.

The bronze statue of Jefferson was added in 1947.

Searching for locations: New York, USA

After arriving latish from Toronto, and perhaps marginally disappointed that while in Toronto, the ice hockey didn’t go our way, we slept in.

Of course, the arrival was not without its own problems. The room we were allocated was on the 22nd floor and was quite smallish. Not a surprise, but we needed space for three, and with the fold-out bed, it was tight but livable.

Except…

We needed the internet to watch the Maple Leafs ice hockey game. We’d arrive just in time to stream it to the tv.

But…

There was no internet. It was everywhere else in the hotel except our floor.

First, I went to the front desk and they directed me to call tech support.

Second, we called tech support and they told us that the 22nd-floor router had failed and would get someone to look at it.

When?

It turns out it didn’t seem to be a priority. Maybe no one else on the floor had complained

Third, I went downstairs and discussed the lack of progress with the night duty manager, expressing disappointment with the lack of progress.

I also asked if they could not provide the full service that I would like a room rate reduction or a privilege in its place as compensation.

He said he would check it himself.

Fourth, after no further progress, we called the front desk to advise there was still no internet. This time we were asked if we wanted a room on another floor, where the internet is working. We accepted the offer.

The end result, a slightly larger, less cramped room, and the ability to watch the last third of the Maple Leaf’s game. I can’t remember if we won.

We all went to bed reasonably happy.

After all, we didn’t have to get up early to go up or down to breakfast because it was not included in the room rate, a bone of contention considering the cost.

I’ll be booking with them directly next time, at a somewhat cheaper rate, a thing I find after using a travel wholesaler to book it for me.

As always every morning while Rosemary gets ready, I go out for a walk and check out where we are.

It seems we are practically in the heart of theaterland New York. Walk one way or the other you arrive at 7th Avenue or Broadway.

Walk uptown and you reach 42nd Street and Times Square, little more than a 10-minute leisurely stroll. On the way down Broadway, you pass a number of theatres, some recognizable, some not.

Times Square is still a huge collection of giant television screens advertising everything from confectionary to TV shows on the cable networks.

A short walk along 42nd street takes you to the Avenue of the Americas and tucked away, The Rockefeller center and its winter ice rink.

A few more steps take you to 5th Avenue and the shops like Saks of Fifth Avenue, shops you could one day hope to afford to buy something.

In the opposite direction, over Broadway and crossing 8th Avenue is an entrance to Central Park. The approach is not far from what is called the Upper West Side, home to the rich and powerful.

Walk one way in the park, which we did in the afternoon, takes you towards the gift shop and back along a labyrinth of laneways to 5th Avenue. It was a cold, but pleasant, stroll looking for the rich and famous, but, discovering, they were not foolish enough to venture out into the cold.

Before going back to the room, we looked for somewhere to have dinner and ended up in Cassidy’s Irish pub. There was a dining room down the back and we were one of the first to arrive for dinner service.

The first surprise, our waitress was from New Zealand.

The second, the quality of the food.

I had a dish called Steak Lyonnaise which was, in plain words, a form of mince steak in an elongated patty. It was cooked rare as I like my steak and was perfect. It came with a baked potato.

As an entree, we had shrimp, which in our part of the world are prawns, and hot chicken wings, the sauce is hot and served on the side.

The beer wasn’t bad either. Overall given atmosphere, service, and food, it’s a nine out of ten.

It was an excellent way to end the day.

The Cinema of My Dreams – It ended in Sorrento – Episode 63

Time to find a missing person

…

I turned slowly, wondering just what the hell her game was, when I realised it was not her, but another man holding a shotgun and looking very aggravated.

“What do you think you’re doing?”  At least that’s what I translated his Italian version into.

And I put my hands out where he could see them, noting at the same time that not only was Juliet missing, so was my gun.

“No Italian, I’m sorry.  Should you be brandishing that gun?”

As I turned, he moved back.  He correctly interpreted that I was going to disarm him, if /I could distract him with my not understanding Italian.  He was smarter than that.

“Move.”

He had a word of English.  The motioning of the gun in the direction of the back door was all he needed.  It was not the first time he’d approached an intruder.

I moved slowly towards the door, opened it, and went in.

The grisly scene of the woman on the floor with blood everywhere was confronting.  The man with the gun swore.

“What the hell have you done?”  Not an exact translation but near enough.  He was shocked.

And distracted.

But I think there was no threat from either of them.  Dicostini was almost in shock, kneeling beside the woman, trying to shake her awake.

The other man put down the gun and went over to check for any sign of life.  First a finger at her neck, then her writ, then hear if she was still breathing.

The gunman looked at Dicostini, “How did this happen?”

Dicostini shrugged.

“He hit her,” I said.  “I saw it happen through the window.  They were arguing.”

That’s when Dicostini saw me.  “Who are you?”

“A private investigator hired to find the real countess.  The thing is, I’m not overly worried about her, it’s the woman you took with her that’s your biggest problem?”

“What woman?”

“The countess’s sister.  You snatched the two of them if you didn’t, the clowns you employed to do the job did.  Her sister is the wife of the Chief of British Intelligence, and he’s about to unleash the wrath of the Gods on you.  I came here to do you a favour.  Tell me where they are, and I’ll walk away.  No questions asked, no interest in what happened here.  This is a one-time offer, and it’s about to expire.”

“What are you talking about?  This is the countess’s sister.”

It was certainly not Mrs Robdy, but now in the pale light shining on that lifeless face, I could see the resemblance to the countess.  It was definitely the woman I’d gone to the opera with, and later taken back to the hotel.

I could see how easily it would be to mistake the fake for the real countess … they must be twins.  The thing was, no one had picked up on it, and I thought our researchers were supposed to be the best.

“How is that possible?” I had to ask. 

“They were twins, separated at birth, and the mother was never told.  Angelina was sent north to stay with a distant aunt who treated her as her own child, and she was never told of her true mother.  I would not have known either unless my own mother told me of the deception on her deathbed.”

“So, what was this charade supposed to prove?”

“That she gets some recognition, and some of the Von Burkehardt spoils.  That cow that is the countess, she has no interest in anyone but herself.  Not for the traditions of this country, the people, the area, the vineyards, the wine, anything.”

“Where is she?”

“Dead, I hope. I told them I didn’t want to see her again.  They did not tell me they had taken anyone else with her.  It is done, over.  I have no idea where they were being held.  Now go.  I have enough to deal with.”

I had to agree with him.  How was he going to explain any of this?

I waited until I was some distance from the house, then pulled out my phone and dialled Anthony’s number.

He answered after the seventh ring.  I was worried he might not.

“Two urgent matters.  Tell Rodby to take the woman who’s with him into custody.  Don’t ask why, just do it, now.  Second, how quickly can you flood the Italian media with a missing person poster?”

“Quickly.  Why?”

“Get a wanted poster together with Mrs Rodby’s face on it and a finder’s fee of a million Euros, more if you like.  And put my phone number on it.  Mrs Rody still carries Rodby’s VC in her handbag for good luck still?”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m good at my job.  Do both those requests, then call me back in an hour or so.  It’s imperative you get the missing persons poster out as soon as possible but only to two people.  The lawyer fellow in Rome, I’ll send you his details if you don’t already have them, and to the Burkehardt’.  All of them.”

“Only those people?”

“Yes.  If I’m wrong, you’re going to find me a hiding spot somewhere in the middle of the north pole, preferably a mile or more under the ice.”

© Charles Heath 2023

The Cinema of My Dreams – It ended in Sorrento – Episode 63

Time to find a missing person

…

I turned slowly, wondering just what the hell her game was, when I realised it was not her, but another man holding a shotgun and looking very aggravated.

“What do you think you’re doing?”  At least that’s what I translated his Italian version into.

And I put my hands out where he could see them, noting at the same time that not only was Juliet missing, so was my gun.

“No Italian, I’m sorry.  Should you be brandishing that gun?”

As I turned, he moved back.  He correctly interpreted that I was going to disarm him, if /I could distract him with my not understanding Italian.  He was smarter than that.

“Move.”

He had a word of English.  The motioning of the gun in the direction of the back door was all he needed.  It was not the first time he’d approached an intruder.

I moved slowly towards the door, opened it, and went in.

The grisly scene of the woman on the floor with blood everywhere was confronting.  The man with the gun swore.

“What the hell have you done?”  Not an exact translation but near enough.  He was shocked.

And distracted.

But I think there was no threat from either of them.  Dicostini was almost in shock, kneeling beside the woman, trying to shake her awake.

The other man put down the gun and went over to check for any sign of life.  First a finger at her neck, then her writ, then hear if she was still breathing.

The gunman looked at Dicostini, “How did this happen?”

Dicostini shrugged.

“He hit her,” I said.  “I saw it happen through the window.  They were arguing.”

That’s when Dicostini saw me.  “Who are you?”

“A private investigator hired to find the real countess.  The thing is, I’m not overly worried about her, it’s the woman you took with her that’s your biggest problem?”

“What woman?”

“The countess’s sister.  You snatched the two of them if you didn’t, the clowns you employed to do the job did.  Her sister is the wife of the Chief of British Intelligence, and he’s about to unleash the wrath of the Gods on you.  I came here to do you a favour.  Tell me where they are, and I’ll walk away.  No questions asked, no interest in what happened here.  This is a one-time offer, and it’s about to expire.”

“What are you talking about?  This is the countess’s sister.”

It was certainly not Mrs Robdy, but now in the pale light shining on that lifeless face, I could see the resemblance to the countess.  It was definitely the woman I’d gone to the opera with, and later taken back to the hotel.

I could see how easily it would be to mistake the fake for the real countess … they must be twins.  The thing was, no one had picked up on it, and I thought our researchers were supposed to be the best.

“How is that possible?” I had to ask. 

“They were twins, separated at birth, and the mother was never told.  Angelina was sent north to stay with a distant aunt who treated her as her own child, and she was never told of her true mother.  I would not have known either unless my own mother told me of the deception on her deathbed.”

“So, what was this charade supposed to prove?”

“That she gets some recognition, and some of the Von Burkehardt spoils.  That cow that is the countess, she has no interest in anyone but herself.  Not for the traditions of this country, the people, the area, the vineyards, the wine, anything.”

“Where is she?”

“Dead, I hope. I told them I didn’t want to see her again.  They did not tell me they had taken anyone else with her.  It is done, over.  I have no idea where they were being held.  Now go.  I have enough to deal with.”

I had to agree with him.  How was he going to explain any of this?

I waited until I was some distance from the house, then pulled out my phone and dialled Anthony’s number.

He answered after the seventh ring.  I was worried he might not.

“Two urgent matters.  Tell Rodby to take the woman who’s with him into custody.  Don’t ask why, just do it, now.  Second, how quickly can you flood the Italian media with a missing person poster?”

“Quickly.  Why?”

“Get a wanted poster together with Mrs Rodby’s face on it and a finder’s fee of a million Euros, more if you like.  And put my phone number on it.  Mrs Rody still carries Rodby’s VC in her handbag for good luck still?”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m good at my job.  Do both those requests, then call me back in an hour or so.  It’s imperative you get the missing persons poster out as soon as possible but only to two people.  The lawyer fellow in Rome, I’ll send you his details if you don’t already have them, and to the Burkehardt’.  All of them.”

“Only those people?”

“Yes.  If I’m wrong, you’re going to find me a hiding spot somewhere in the middle of the north pole, preferably a mile or more under the ice.”

© Charles Heath 2023