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Starting with the beautiful and young Kiki Tate.
She had her work cut out for her.
CHAPTER FIVE
When the plane touched down at the Venice Marco Polo Airport, the first thing Daisy did was make a call to the city’s coroner.
Apparently, everything in Europe moved at a more leisurely pace. The coroner’s report was still “pending.” She left a message with her phone number, hoping they understood English, asking them to email her the details when they were available.
Daisy stepped out into the temperate, sunny morning, and made her way to the taxi line along Galileo Galilei Avenue, checking the map on her phone as she leaned against the arm of her rolling suitcase.
“I think you’re in the wrong line,” a voice said behind her.
She startled and turned to find Alfred Long standing behind her, wearing sunglasses and looking as much like he belonged in Venice as the Italian Gothic and Byzantine architecture around them.
She stood on her toes and pointed to the sign that said,Taxi.Was he being facetious? Obviously, this was the right line, unless he expected her to walk to her destination. “I’m sorry?”
He rolled his suitcase up and came to a stop behind her as the long line ambled along. “You’re going to the Tate villa, right?”
She nodded.
He pointed down the street. “Then you’ll need to go there. The ferry will get you there easier. The land taxi isn’t the best option to get to Isolde Santa Maria.”
“Santa Maria?”
“The Tate Villa is on that private island so the vaporetti won’t go there.In boca al lupo!”
“Oh. Thanks,” she said, hurrying off to the larger boat, dragging her suitcase behind her.
She made it just as the ferryman was getting ready to take off. Climbing aboard, she handed him the black card Goldie had provided for her expenses, and then they were off.
Daisy stood on the deck of the boat, letting the warm sea breeze caress her face and trying to enjoy the moment. The scenery was beautiful, the many-colored, tightly-packed buildings rising up from the green water. But she had other things on her mind.
The first thing was, what kind of reception would she get at the Tate villa?
According to Goldie, when she’d called the new wife and told her to expect an investigator, Kiki hadn’t taken it well. “Oh, she was as mad as a hornet. But I told her that if she didn’t cooperate, that it would only make her look guilty. She shut up, right after that,” Goldie had said.
It didn’t mean that Kiki Tate would welcome her to the estate with open arms.
Daisy was sure that a big part of that had to do with Goldie. Goldie was clearly a big personality—when she didn’t like someone, she made it known. And she obviously hated Kiki Tate.
But for what reason? Despite what she’d said, maybe there was jealousy there and Goldie Tate still held a torch for her old flame.
Yes, it was counterintuitive to think that the person hiring her could be the culprit, but Daisy couldn’t help being suspicious. She’d been hired for the last case, on the yacht, by a dead man’s fiancé, only to learn the fiancé had killed the man and hired her hoping that doing so would make her look innocent.
Based on the shabby Fortune Investigations office, the woman had thought Daisy was incompetent and would never put two and two together. She’d been wrong.
But Daisy couldn’t help thinking that maybe it was beginner’s luck, and she really wasn’t as skilled an investigator as the newspapers had said.
Goldie was a smart one. Maybe she saw that, too, and had hired Daisy for her incompetence. Though she hadn’t been aboard the plane, maybe she had an accomplice, and was behind her ex’s death.
Anything was possible.
A giant, pink-toned mansion rose up from the trees, with many arches and terraces. It clung precariously to a high cliffside, and there was a long stone staircase with many switchbacks, coming from the dock, cutting its way up through the trees. It made Daisy feel dizzy, just looking at it. There were no other buildings in sight.
As she disembarked, she asked the ferry operator, “Scusi, I’m looking for the Tate villa? Is that . . .?” She pointed up.
He nodded. “Tate? Si.”
