“I imagine she was once a lovely-looking young woman.” He recalled Jack warning him off Valentina because all daughters grow up to look like their mothers. Valentina did not live long enough to disprove his theory.
“I worked in the trattoria with Toto and Falco,” Alba continued.
“Toto all grown up, eh?”
“He has a daughter called Cosima.” Suddenly her face turned solemn and she took a deep breath. “The point is, Daddy, that I understand now why you protected me from your past. I’ve behaved appallingly. I want to apologize.”
Thomas lit his cigar, puffing on it until the little end glowed with fire. “It wasn’t your fault. Perhaps I should have told you sooner. There was never a good moment.”
“Well, there’s no better moment than the present for this,” she said, handing him the third portrait. “Falco said I should give it to you, although I wasn’t sure I should.”
“Where the devil did you find this?” He didn’t know whether to be pleased or shocked. How he had searched for it. How it had tormented him.
Alba braced herself. “I’ve solved it all, Daddy. I’ve solved the murder.”
“Go on.”
“Fitz and I went to Palazzo Montelimone.”
“You did, did you?” His expression was inscrutable.
“Falco and Immacolata told us not to go, so I knew there was something there that they didn’t want me to find. An extraordinary man lives there called Nero. He said he inherited the ruin from his lover, the marchese. Anyway, he showed us this little folly. The marchese’s sanctuary. He had kept it all as the marchese had left it. The portrait was hidden in there, by the bed. Nero broke down and confessed. Valentina was the marchese’s lover, and it was he who murdered her. I knew she hadn’t been an innocent bystander in a Mafia hit. When I heard that she had been dressed in diamonds and furs, I just knew it didn’t add up.” She watched the smoke of her father’s cigar form a cloud around him. “Lattarullo said that even the best detectives in Italy hadn’t worked it out. But that’s not all, Daddy.”
“What else did you dig up?” he asked. His voice was steady, for he already knew. There was only one more piece left to the puzzle.
“Falco admitted that he killed the marchese.” Thomas nodded in acknowledgment. “He said it was a matter of honor.”
“It was more than honor to me.”
Alba stared at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of horror and admiration. The final piece to the puzzle had caused the whole picture to shift. He caught her staring and did not look away. There was something unfamiliar in his eyes. A ruthlessness she had never seen before.
“You were with him, weren’t you?” she whispered. “Falco wasn’t alone, was he? You were with him. You both killed the marchese.”
Thomas answered her quietly. “I did nothing then that I wouldn’t do again.”
He handed her back the third portrait. “You should keep this, Alba. By rights, it belongs to you.” He got up, stretched, and threw his half-smoked cigar into the fire. “Shall we go back and join the others?”
That night when Thomas went to bed he felt light-headed with joy. “Darling,” he said. “It’s time to get rid of the boat.” Margo was speechless. “I don’t think we should sell it. I think we should scuttle it. Sink it. Send it to the bottom of the sea along with everything it represents. It’s time to let it go.”
Margo rolled over and rested her head on his chest. “Won’t Alba mind?” she asked.
“No, she’s going to marry Fitz and live somewhere else. Either here or London. The Valentina is too small for the two of them.”
“They don’t seem to agree where to live,” said Margo.
“They will. They’ll just have to compromise.”
She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Tommy,” she said.
“You know, you just called me Tommy,” he said in surprise.
“Did I?” she exclaimed, laughing. “I didn’t notice. Tommy! I rather like it.”
“So do I,” he said and pulled her against him. “And I like you, darling. I like you very, very much.”
In the morning Thomas did something he should have done years ago. He walked into his study and closed the door. He sat at his desk and opened his address book. He fingered his way down to H. Then he dialed the number. After a few rings a voice he had known all his youth answered. The years fell away and he felt like a young officer again.
“Hello, Jack old boy, it’s Tommy.”
31
A lba wasn’t sad to see the boat scuttled. It felt like the right thing to do, after all that had happened. They dragged it out into the middle of the Channel, drilled a leak into the gas pipe, then waited as the gas built up in the bilges before dramatically catching fire with the pilot light. She stood with Margo, Fitz, and her father and watched it sink. It took longer than she expected. For a while it resisted the pull, then finally it was gone and the sea lay flat and still as before. She imagined it falling silently to the bottom, landing on sand where fish would swim in and out of the windows and coral would grow up the hull. The boat was the last link with Valentina. Now they could all get on with their lives. She noticed her father had his arm around Margo’s waist and that he was gently caressing her hip. She noticed too that she called him Tommy and that he seemed to like it.