Forbidden (34 page)

‘That brings me to the last years of the Contessa’s life. There is overwhelming evidence to prove that at the time she met these men she had sufficient money to maintain her grand lifestyle if she lived to be one hundred years old. When the authorities raided the house and confiscated its contents those villains had not had a chance to dispose of the Contessa’s private papers before they fled the country. She kept ledgers, diaries, every receipt for the money she gave them, and all were marked loans. They also found letters, many from the two men. Very damaging against them. She was a woman obsessed with love for Mr Sparrow, but in reading his letters to her one would have thought, as she must have, that he was equally as obsessed with love for her.

‘An old woman foolishly in love with a younger man she may have been, but a fool she was not. She never signed a thing over to them legally. What it comes down
to is that so long as she was alive and with them, they had everything.

‘Which brings me to their ugly, unpleasant, despicable behaviour. I have evidence here that Mr Sparrow and Mr Yolu condemned the Contessa to a slow and painful, not to mention humiliating, death from lack of love and neglect to satisfy their own greed. And whereas they might have been clever enough to take over her home and her life, they were not so adroit once they finally had complete control over the Contessa. They kept her in pathetic circumstances for years, and they flaunted their unkindness. They were disrespectful towards her and enjoyed humiliating her in public. Befuddled but still in love with Mr Sparrow, unable to believe that he wanted anything but the best for her, she trusted him and Mr Yolu to her death.

‘I think you mentioned a cottage they fixed up for her? It was no more than a shack.’

Here Mr Gazi opened a large white envelope and produced a black and white photograph. ‘This is the so-called cottage where she died.’

Amy took the photograph in her hands. Mr Gazi was right, it was no more than a wooden shack. She said nothing and placed the photograph on the table in front of her.

‘I have others here of the interior of the shack. I don’t think you want to see them. But I would like you to see these. The Contessa when she met them, in the early 1950s. And as you can see in this photograph, even in old age she was still a beautiful and vivacious woman.
And this is how she looked ten years later. The photograph was taken by a villager who went to the authorities for help in saving her.’

The tears were brimming in Amy’s eyes when she asked, ‘And the authorities could do nothing?’

‘They sent for Mr Yolu and told him to take better care of his responsibilities. He was irate and returned with a letter from the Contessa saying that Mr Yolu and Mr Sparrow had assured her that as soon as the
yalis
was fit to receive her she would be returning to live there. I need not tell you she never left that shack. She believed every last one of their promises, every story they told her about how difficult their lives were and how they struggled. It was just a matter of time before they had their successes and then they would all be living together in the
yalis
… on and on they lied to her. For the first few months that she lived there, even the woman who brought her food believed it. But when their visits stopped, and the money for food and tending the lady didn’t come, sometimes for months at a time, she stopped believing it.

‘The Contessa died of hypothermia and starvation. In the end she was lucid and understood what they had done. A note in violet ink on her crested paper is proof of that. Everything I’ve told you can be substantiated by documentation and by the testimony of the detective in charge.

‘The authorities would like to see this case resolved. The
yalis
is the finest in Istanbul and will crumble away because no one can do anything about it with a legal
mess like this hanging over it. But they insist upon justice for the Contessa. She deserves it. I don’t know if you ever met her? I did, and dined in her company many times. She was far from the frivolous fool she may have come to sound like in this story. She was one of the most intelligent and interesting women, a patron of the arts her entire life. She was generous and kind. She was not the famed mistress of some of the most eminent men of her time for nothing. When she was alive and well she made life sweet for everyone with her wit and her charm.’

Amy rose from the chair, the tears trickling down her cheeks. She walked to the window and stared down at the fast-flowing Thames. After several minutes, Mr Gazi went to her and handed her a clean white handkerchief.

She turned to face him and said, ‘I once loved a man as much as the Contessa Armida Montevicini loved Jarret Sparrow. When you can love like that it’s unthinkable that he should be the wrong man. She didn’t believe it, I didn’t. I could so easily have gone the same way as the Contessa did but I found a letter written in violet ink and it saved my life. The Contessa had written it to
my
lover, Jarret Sparrow. That was over thirty years ago. Mr Gazi, I want that
yalis
, for me and for the Contessa Armida, and I intend to have it. Now, will you think about that while I go powder my nose and put on my imaginary armour? I’m going into battle!’

When Amy returned to the sitting-room Mr Gazi was sitting back at the table in front of the fire, leafing through some papers. He stood up while she took her chair. Amy then spent the next half hour telling him
about the reappearance of Jarret and Fee and what they wanted from her. Their scheme as to how she could get the
yalis
back for them.

Having told him everything, she added, ‘I know myself very well, Mr Gazi. Destroying another human being as I intend to destroy Jarret Sparrow and Fee will not come easy to me. I will become fire to fight fire, but in the end I could very well be burned out. I need a Byzantine mind to help me in this. Will you work with me until the
yalis
is mine?’

‘I need some time to think about that. But for the moment, why don’t I work with you on formulating a plan?’

Smiles crept across their faces. ‘You have a lovely smile, Miss Ross, I think we must work on seeing more of that and fewer tears.’

‘And you, Mr Gazi, have a very handsome smile.’

‘I’ve made a reservation for lunch at Wilton’s. I never come to England without visiting it. I had my first lunch there with my father when I was seven years old. And it’s a perfect day for oysters, don’t you think?’

‘Every day is a perfect day for oysters, Mr Gazi.’

They dined well at Wilton’s but wasted no time in idle chatter. Mr Gazi was convinced that the first thing that he and Amy had to work out was a method by which she could gain title from Jarret and Fee to the property, the
yalis
and all its contents. Mr Gazi was not convinced that they would give that to her in a manner that they could not contest later on if Amy was successful with the next plan – getting the case against them thrown out of court because she was now the owner of the
property. The more they talked, the more complicated it became. But by the time they had finished their bread and butter pudding, they thought they had a plan that would hold up. The next stop was to visit Amy’s solicitor the following morning.

It took four days before the final transfer papers for the property and its contents were drawn up and ready for signature by Fee, Jarret and Amy, and by that time the museum in New York had committed itself to purchasing the Soutine. They paid the asking price and agreed to keep the original owner’s name a secret. The de Boulets were thrilled. They could go forward with their private museum. They were besides extremely impressed and grateful for the swiftness and discretion with which Amy had acted. For the de Boulets discretion was everything. It therefore took Amy by surprise when Pierre de Boulet said that his wife Annette had something personal she wanted to discuss with Amy.

Once on the line she hemmed and hawed and simply couldn’t get out what she wanted to say. Amy finally stepped in. ‘Annette, is there something you want to tell me?’

‘Ask you, Amy.’

‘Well do, then. If I can be of any help …’

‘Oh, no, I don’t want anything. Pierre and I have talked this over for days and he thinks I should ask you before I do it …’

‘Do what, Annette?’

‘Give your address and telephone number to a friend of ours who is making enquiries.’

Amy felt a surge of delight. She knew of course who it had to be. ‘If he is a friend of yours, then I don’t mind, Annette.’

‘Oh, good, he is such a fascinating man. His name is Brice Chatto. He’s a neighbour of ours on the lake. I’ll tell him the next time he calls.’

‘Do you know why he wants it, Annette?’

‘I don’t think it has anything to do with buying a painting, Amy!’

She immediately went down to the kitchen and told Tillie, ‘If any calls come from a Mr Brice Chatto, or flowers, or anything, he’s on our very important, we want you list. We do not want this man to slip away! Got it, Tillie?’

‘I’d better! My God, I haven’t seen you sparkle like this in ever such a long time, not since you came home with those flowers and chocolates,’ said Tillie, a teasing note in her voice.

‘Don’t get carried away. I just don’t want to miss my chance this time.’

‘It’s been all go round here and you’ve been working too hard. I was beginning to worry because you’ve been busy but sort of depressed at the same time. I like you better this way. It was that oriental, wasn’t it? I thought he was terrible.’

‘Well, you have my permission to call the police if ever he shows up round here again.’

Amy walked away from the kitchen to light the fire in the drawing-room. She was bathed and dressed and ready for Mr Gazi’s arrival. This was his first visit to
her house. They were going to go once more over the papers that she would present to Fee and Jarret, and Mr Gazi was to brief her on every possible change they might ask for.

The faint scent of steak and kidney pudding came from the kitchen. That was Mr Gazi’s request when Amy asked him for lunch. He wanted spotted dick for pudding. His comment was: ‘Once an English public school boy, always an English public school boy.’ But had then admitted that he only allowed himself the luxury of acting like one about once every four years. For all his kindness to her, Amy was serving oysters for their first course.

He arrived, was charmed by the house but fell in love with the Soutine which was still on display in Amy’s drawing-room. He was also enchanted by
Arcadia
when they walked down through the garden to the river to have a look at her.

It was while they were standing there that he asked Amy, ‘Miss Ross, are you sure you want to go through with this? You know you can walk away from it and those men, and that will be the end of it?’

She remained silent for several seconds and then slipped her arm through his. While they were walking back to the house for lunch, she told him, ‘I want to walk away, but I can’t. They came back into my life to exploit me, and I simply cannot allow that, any more than I could allow them to do to me what they did to the Contessa. And there would always be that possibility: that they would try to, no matter how much love for me
Jarret professes. If you were to ask me why I am doing this, I would have to answer because I simply do not want them to have the Contessa’s
yalis
. I want them to know that it is restored and flourishing and full of life and joy, and that they will never see it or the gardens again. I want all trace of them wiped from that woman’s past. I owe her that.’

‘And if you can’t do it?’

‘I will have had a damn good try.’

‘I don’t think you can carry this off alone, even with my help. We need more sympathisers with the same goal.’

Amy stopped walking and looked at Mr Gazi. ‘Did I hear you say
we
?’

‘Yes, I believe you did. Mr Kramer said, “Give her whatever she wants, I’ll back her.” So we have him as a solid ally as well.’

‘Mr Gazi, I’m very grateful to you.’

‘First things first. We go to Venice to present our plan to Mr Sparrow and Mr Yolu. You will have to make them believe you’re doing this for love, Miss Ross, your love for Jarret Sparrow. They must not get the least inkling of what you really have in mind.’

‘Well then, I think I had better go into the house now and call Jarret. I’ll tell him how much I love him and how I have decided to help them. We’ll make a rendezvous to discuss our plan of action.’

‘Now you’re very sure about this, Miss Ross?’

‘Please don’t ask me that again, Mr Gazi. I’m not sure about any of this. It’s more like taking on a job and getting it done.’

Mr Gazi, Amy, and her lawyer James Hardcastle arrived in Venice one week later and checked into the Gritti Palace Hotel. James Hardcastle was not wholly aware of Amy’s intentions. Mr Gazi thought they should remain a secret between Amy and himself for the time being.

Amy and her men went to the
palazzo
very soon after their arrival in Venice. Jarret impressed and charmed the visitors with his handsome good looks and that injured, somewhat aloof manner which won over most people. Fee seemed more eccentric and nervous than Amy could ever remember seeing him. She put that down to the presence of Mr Gazi, who was a grand Turkish gentleman whom Fee must know was a key factor in their plan for returning to Turkey.

Immediately after the introductions Jarret asked to see Amy alone for a few moments. He took her into the hall. ‘Amy, I will love you as no man has ever loved a woman, as you have always wanted me to love you, for the rest of my life for what you’re doing for us! I mean you and I, not just Tennant and Fee and me.’

He placed his arms round her and kissed her lovingly. Stroked her hair and kissed her eyes, raised her hands and lowered his head to kiss them, first one, then the other. He caressed her breasts.

They kissed again and she gave in to his kisses and licked his lips, and told him, ‘New beginnings, Jarret. I’m doing this for us, for new beginnings.’ And this time it was Amy who took over the kissing and sucked his tongue into her mouth. Their hearts raced and it was
Jarret who had to pull away, obviously aroused.