Lie With Me / Destiny's Hand: Lie With Me

“Normally, I don’t share information about an ongoing investigation. But in this instance, I’ll fill you in on what I know so far about Antony Delos on the understanding that you’ll share any information you can gather through Stassis and your other contacts.”

For a moment, Roman said nothing. Mentally, I urged him to make the deal. If indeed my cousin Alexi was a prime suspect, then we needed as much information as possible to help him.

“You believe that through Stassis I can gather information that you can’t?”

“What I believe is that you can access it more quickly.” He glanced at Alexi, then turned his attention back to Roman. “And because you have a family connection, I’m sure you can see the advantage of that.”

“You can’t believe that Alexi had something to do with Antony Delos’s murder,” I said.

Ionescu’s eyes, when they met mine, had the same flat expression that my brother Nik’s eyes always had when he was in cop mode. “What I believe doesn’t matter, Ms. Angelis. I have to go with the evidence.”

I swallowed hard when I realized that I’d supplied much of the evidence.

“Deal,” Roman said. “What have you found out about Antony Delos?”

“He used to work for Interpol, mostly on high-profile gem thefts. Five years ago, he went private. He was still doing the same work, but for insurance companies and even more frequently for the well-heeled victims of the thefts. I did a little checking. The last call placed on his cell was to Carlo Ferrante, an Italian billionaire whose villa in Tuscany was robbed of a fortune in jewels six days ago. Five days ago, Delos checked into the Villa Prospero. I don’t believe in coincidences, do you, Mr. Oliver?”

Something tightened in my stomach. Inspector Ionescu couldn’t suspect that Alexi or Miranda had something to do with the theft? I glanced over at my cousin again. He looked young and scared, hardly the picture of an international jewel thief.

Roman seemed equally unconvinced. “I remember reading about that jewel heist. The Wall Street Journal did an article on it complete with photos.”

Ionescu nodded. “I don’t know how detailed the article was, but the jewels have been in the Ferrante family for centuries, and they have an interesting history. Reputedly, they were part of a dowry when a Ferrante son married a French aristocrat in the fifteenth century. They’ve been passed down to the male heirs ever since. And this is the second time they’ve been stolen from Carlo Ferrante.”

“I don’t recall reading that,” Roman said.

“The first time, they were snatched from a museum in Belgium. Ferrante had loaned them out as part of an exhibition of medieval jewelry. Six months later, they were miraculously and anonymously returned to him by the thief. Ferrante returned the small fortune he’d collected from the insurance company.”

“Any idea of how Delos tracked the jewels to Corfu?”

For the first time since he’d seated himself at our table, the inspector smiled. “I’m hoping you can find out, Mr. Oliver. I couldn’t get Mr. Ferrante to take my call. But he might take a call from Gianni Stassis. Perhaps, you might be able to expedite matters on that front?”

“What’s in it for me?”

I stared at Roman. My contacts with him had all been social—either at my family’s restaurant or at our fishing cabin. For the first time, I was catching a glimpse of the cool, ruthless businessman I’d heard Kit brag so often about.

The blunt question didn’t bother the inspector at all. In fact, his smile grew wider. “For starters, I won’t mention to Mrs. Kostas that you’re not Ms. Angelis’s brother. I agree with you that she shouldn’t be alone until this matter is cleared up.” Then his expression sobered. “And the sooner we find out who shot Antony Delos, the safer Ms. Angelis will be.”

I was getting a little tired of being left out of the conversation, but before I could say anything, two men in uniform strode onto the terrace and came directly to our table.

“Someone searched Mr. Delos’s room before we got there,” the taller one said.

The other one wore gloves and lifted the rifle he was carrying. “We found this in Mr. Kostas’s room.”

Ionescu rose and moved to the table where Alexi was still seated in front of the other two policemen.

“Alexi, you’ll have to come down to the station with me.”

Miranda rushed over to her son, and I sprang from my chair to join her.

“You can’t think that he shot Mr. Delos,” I said to the inspector. “The man with the rifle was high up on the cliff face, close to the Castello. I can testify to that.”

The inspector ignored my outburst and I stood staring, horrified as the two uniformed men assisted my cousin to his feet and escorted him off the terrace. All of the breakfast conversation had stopped. Everyone was watching as Inspector Ionescu followed Alexi out of sight. Miranda started to weep softly, and I didn’t know what to say, what to do. It was Roman who went to her and simply folded her into his arms.

I felt my heart take a little tumble and that alarm sounded in the back of my mind again.

IT WAS NEARLY an hour later that Roman finished making calls. I inferred from eavesdropping on his side of the conversation that he’d asked Stassis to recommend a local attorney to represent Alexi. When I’d passed on that information to Miranda, it had done a great deal to settle her. Roman had even thought to call Kit and ask him to do research on Carlo Ferrante and both thefts of his family’s jewels. The man thought of everything.

In the meantime, the only thing I’d done was to hold my cousin Miranda’s hand and try to reassure her that Alexi would be home soon. Something that I was not at all sure of myself. Ever since he’d been escorted out of the Villa Prospero, questions had been spinning through my mind. What had he been doing with that gun? Why hadn’t he returned home until this morning?

I turned to Miranda and asked the question that only she could answer. “Why did you lie to Inspector Ionescu yesterday? You knew from my descriptions that I’d seen Alexi and Mr. Delos arguing on the beach.”

She slipped her hand from mine and clasped hers together. “I was so worried about Alexi. He hasn’t been himself since Caliban went missing. He loves those cats so much. They were a gift from his father shortly before he died.” She turned to me and met my eyes. “Alexi’s all I have left.” Then she lifted her chin. “But he wouldn’t shoot anyone. He doesn’t even have a gun.”

What she said made sense to me. The young man I’d seen on the beach had acted impulsively out of anger. And from what I’d learned since then, with good reason. But whoever had shot Antony Delos had chosen a spot on the cliff side and taken careful aim.

Unless… Questions erupted in my mind again. What if Alexi’s absences from the Villa Prospero hadn’t had anything to do with the missing Caliban? What if he’d been involved in something else altogether? Guilt flooded through me. I hadn’t even formally met Alexi and I was suspecting him of somehow being involved in a major jewelry theft.

Seeing that Roman had finally repocketed his cell, I asked, “How long will it be before you hear back from Stassis?”

Roman shrugged. “Hard to tell. I asked for a private meeting with Carlo Ferrante.”

My eyes widened.

“Might as well ask for the moon. Ionescu wants to know why Delos came here the day after the robbery. I’d like to know that, too.” He shifted his gaze to Miranda. “What can you tell me about Antony Delos? What kind of a guest was he?”

A line appeared on Miranda’s forehead as she considered. “I thought of him as an ideal one. Quiet, kept to himself. He ate breakfast early, always requested a packed lunch, and he’d be gone for the whole day, exploring the island. When Caliban disappeared, Alexi asked him to keep an eye out for him. Mr. Delos agreed. I don’t understand why anyone would want to shoot him.”

“Did he ever mention why he came here? Why he chose the Villa Prospero?”

Miranda shook her head.

Roman looked at me. I noted that he hadn’t mentioned anything about the jewel theft to Miranda. But why do that if it wasn’t necessary? It would only make her worry more. Roman might be ruthless in his business dealings, but there was an innate kindness about him that had my admiration for him rising even higher.

“Ferrante might very well have some information about what brought Delos to the Villa Prospero,” Roman said. “But Stassis is going to have to call in some favors. Apparently, Ferrante’s eccentric and a bit of a recluse. It may take a while, and in the meantime, we wait.”

“Alexi is going to be so worried about the cats,” Miranda said. “He’s so sure that Caliban is still alive, that he’s trapped somehow in one of the caves beneath the Castello.”

“He is alive,” I said. “But his leg is injured. He can’t move, but Ariel has been bringing him food, and there’s water.”

Miranda blinked and stared at me. “How do you know?”

“Philly has a psychic gift with animals,” Roman explained. “She can communicate with them.”

“You talk to them?”

“Something like that,” I said. Miranda’s tone was skeptical, but I was used to that kind of reaction.

Then she frowned and pressed her fingers against her temples. “Oh, yes. Yes, of course. Your father and Helena told me how special powers ran in your mother’s family. He told me about your ability. But I’d forgotten all of this…”