Liberate Yourself (The Desires Unlocked Trilogy Part One) (25 page)

The light is enchanting on top of the Duomo. It is nearly midday, the sun creeping through the clouds, returning after days of rain. It might be cold up here, but Valentina doesn’t mind that; she revels in the vision before her. The pale spiky spires of the Duomo, which look just like a princess’s tower, glisten all around her. She knows that a lot of Milanese don’t like the Duomo, but she has always loved climbing up on to the roof. Being like a bird and looking down on her bustling city with a rare detachment. This morning, though, she doesn’t have time for such flights of fancy. She is on one of Marco’s shoots for
Elle
magazine.

Marco is one of her few friends from the fashion scene in Milan. Their friendship blossomed on a shoot for
Vogue
, when they discovered they shared a passion for all things vintage, particularly the sixties. Today, though, it is all fairy-tale stuff. Marco tells Valentina that his theme is
You
shall
go to the ball, darling
. The two models are of Amazonian height, but are so pale and flimsy, Valentina fears they could be blown off the roof of the cathedral at any moment. They are both very young. One of them is from Latvia, and the other from the Ukraine.

They are just finishing the last shot of the morning when Valentina sees him out of the corner of her eye. She is sure of it. Marco is demanding her attention, touching up one of the
girls, the poor thing quaking with cold in an insubstantial ivory silk dress. And yet Valentina ignores her friend for just one second and spins around. Yes, there he is, Inspector Garelli, pretending to be incredibly interested in one of the gargoyles. He is fooling no one, Valentina thinks, as she turns her attention back to the shoot.

Later that day she sees him again. She is with Antonella in La Rinascente, buying some underwear. Valentina is at the till, paying for a new pair of stockings and a little black corset with suspenders, when she sees him walking through the store, again studiously not looking at her.

She gives Antonella a hasty kiss goodbye, telling her that she forgot she had another appointment, and rushes down the escalator behind him. Two can play at this game, she thinks, annoyed that Garelli assumes she won’t notice him. As she emerges from the department store, she sees him turn to the left, and she follows him as he walks alongside the Duomo. She really doesn’t know why she is doing this. It is almost as if she is on automatic pilot, her curiosity fuelling her.

She follows him into the Galleria shopping arcade, for once not distracted by its art nouveau splendour, and just catches sight of him as he enters the Avatt Park Hotel. She glances at her watch. It is six thirty, and really she should go home and get ready for tonight. She has another session in Leonardo’s club. Yet her curiosity is too much for her. She will just take a peek in the hotel, and double-check that it really is Inspector Garelli. Maybe she is mistaken?

She walks into the reception and looks around, but she can’t see him anywhere. He appears to have vanished into thin air.

‘Can I help you, Signorina Rosselli?’

She nearly jumps out of her skin, spinning around to come face to face with Garelli. He is standing right behind her, his stern grey eyes pinning her like a hawk’s.

‘I could ask you the same question,’ she says angrily. ‘Why have you been stalking me all day?’

She sees surprise register in his eyes.

‘I think you must be mistaken,’ he says calmly. ‘However, since we have so fortunately bumped into each other, would you join me for an
aperitivo
?’ He waves his hand towards the entrance to the bar.

Why not? thinks Valentina. Maybe he can help her find out what’s going on with Theo. She still hasn’t heard a word from him since her extraordinary experience at Leonardo’s club on Saturday night.

They settle down at a small table in the centre of the bar. Valentina asks for a Bloody Mary, while Garelli orders a comparatively modest glass of white wine.

‘I was wondering if you have heard from Signor Steen since I spoke to you on Friday?’ the detective starts off.

Valentina is certainly not going to tell him about Saturday night, and what happened with Celia and Leonardo. She looks him square in the face.

‘No. Have you?’ she answers with hostility.

‘Oh, I am sorry,’ Garelli blusters. ‘Did you break up? Am I touching a nerve?’

‘No, we did not break up, Garelli.’ He has annoyed her even more now. ‘We just aren’t joined at the hip.’

‘Yes, I can see that,’ he says, coughing pointedly, and Valentina wonders how many days he has been following her for. She imagines him inside the Velvet Underworld room at Leonardo’s club and the thought amuses her. Maybe she could bring herself to take a whip to Garelli? She certainly doesn’t like him.

‘What’s this all about?’ she asks him directly. ‘Has Theo done something wrong? Is he in trouble?’

‘No, no,’ Garelli replies meekly. ‘I would just appreciate his help on a certain matter concerning the theft of six artworks.’

Valentina can feel her blood freezing in her veins, yet she manages not to react.

‘What artworks?’ she asks calmly, avoiding his eyes.

‘A random selection of pieces, Signorina Rosselli, between which I can find no connection, apart from the fact that they are all European paintings and none of them was painted after 1930 or thereabouts. Some are more valuable than others. There is for instance a Dutch Master from the seventeenth century by an artist called Gabriel Metsu. Maybe you have heard of him?’ He takes a sip of his wine. ‘The first painting was taken from here in Milan. But the others were stolen abroad: one from New York, two from England, one from
France. The last painting to hypothetically go missing was taken from a private collection in the far north of Sweden, practically Babbo Natale’s home.’

He took his snow boots and down jacket
.

‘What do you mean, hypothetically?’

‘Well, it is rather strange,’ Garelli tells her. ‘The paintings are reported stolen, then less than twenty-four hours later the victims all change their minds. Say they want to withdraw their statements. In a couple of cases I followed it up. For instance, I travelled to London concerning one painting. The victim refused to show me the picture back
in situ
, even though they claimed that they were mistaken and it had not been stolen. I mean, Signorina Rosselli, how do you make a mistake like that?’

‘What was the painting?’ asks Valentina, trying to stay calm as she sips her Bloody Mary.

‘It was by the French artist Watteau.’

Valentina drops her eyes, stares into the juicy scarlet of her drink. What
is
her lover involved in?

‘But what has Theo got to do with all of this?’ she asks, dreading the answer.

‘I have a source,’ Garelli says. ‘It seems that your partner has happened to be in the vicinity of all these mistaken robberies. And since he is a celebrated art critic . . . someone who knows about these pieces . . . I felt bound to question him. It could all be a completely innocent coincidence, of course,’ he adds lightly, hooking her with a sinister smile.

Valentina knocks back her drink.

‘Well, it sounds very tenuous to me,’ she says haughtily. ‘I mean, paintings that are stolen and not stolen. There isn’t even a crime. Maybe you shouldn’t be wasting your time investigating Theo, and instead investigate all these victims of fake robberies.’

Garelli’s eyes light up for an instant.

‘Why, Signorina Rosselli, that is an excellent idea. Thank you for that tip.’

She gets up, not sure whether he is being facetious or not.

‘I have to go,’ she says brusquely.

She marches out of the Avatt Park Hotel, not sure whether it is Garelli or her lover she is angry at. What the hell is Theo involved in? This isn’t their world. Robberies, conspiracies and the police. Or maybe it has always been Theo’s and she just didn’t know. She can’t work it out. There is one thing she knows about Theo, and that is his sense of justice. He is a good man, not a thief. Why is he hiding all of this from her? Despite her best efforts, it makes her furious.

She is still a little angry when she arrives at Leonardo’s club later that evening. One advantage is that her fury at Garelli, and Theo, helps her get over her nerves at seeing Leonardo again after their last intense encounter. After having dressed so carefully the last couple of times she came here, tonight she didn’t think twice about putting on her new corset and stockings underneath a little black vintage dress. I don’t care
what anyone thinks of me, she says to herself as she storms through the door.

Leonardo is waiting for her in the reception. He is dressed simply in black jeans and a pristine white T-shirt. To her surprise, he is also wearing a pair of glasses, as he sits behind the desk in reception, reading a book.

‘Oh, Valentina,’ he says, looking up and taking off the glasses, smiling at her as if nothing extraordinary has happened between them at all.

Valentina wishes he would put the glasses back on. They take the edge off his Mediterranean stud look. He closes the book and she notices it is
Watt
, by Samuel Beckett. It is not the sort of book she imagines someone like Leonardo would be reading. She hardly took him for a fan of obscure literary works.

‘I have been trying to call you, but your phone was switched off,’ he says.

She pulls out her phone, registers two missed calls from Leonardo.

‘Sorry, I didn’t realise. I forgot to turn it on.’

Leonardo puts the book away in a drawer.

‘First of all I wanted to check you were all right after the other night.’

She bites her lip.

‘I’m fine,’ she says sourly.

‘And secondly, I know we were supposed to be doing another shoot today with Celia in the Velvet Underworld, but
unfortunately she is sick, and I couldn’t find another girl.’

‘Oh.’

‘You look very disappointed, Valentina.’ Leonardo puts his head on one side and balances his glasses playfully between his fingertips.

‘Not at all,’ Valentina lies, wanting to appear indifferent. ‘I just cancelled other plans.’

‘I really am sorry. I will set it up again, unless . . .’ She looks at him enquiringly. Please don’t suggest watching another dominatrix session, she begs inside her head.

‘I was actually thinking that for you to be able to take sensitive pictures of a submissive and her dominant . . . well, it would be good for you to try it on your own. I mean, the dynamic would be different if it were just you and me.’

Valentina feels a cold hand clasping her heart, a terror filling her belly.

‘I’m not sure I am the submissive type.’

Leonardo smiles at her, his eyes dancing with amusement.

‘I think you are,’ he says. ‘I can always recognise a born submissive when I see her. You know, it’s not about being a doormat. It takes courage to be a submissive.’

Valentina says nothing for a minute. She watches Leonardo putting his glasses away, all the while wondering if
she
has the courage to do what he is asking. She takes a breath before speaking.

‘Will Theo be there?’ she asks quietly.

Leonardo looks up at her.

‘Have you not spoken to him since Saturday?’ he asks.

She shakes her head, her cheeks colouring.

‘I don’t understand what’s going on,’ she whispers hoarsely.

‘I can’t tell you what Theo wants, Valentina,’ Leonardo says. ‘You have to work that out for yourself.’ He gives her a kind smile. ‘But I can tell you that if you want to experience being a submissive, then it will be just you and me in the Velvet Underworld tonight.’

They stare at each other, the silence heavy between them. Even though she has already had sex with this man, the thought of Celia not being in the room with her makes his proposal all the more dangerous. There is no way she can do this. What about Theo? But then another voice starts up in her head. What
about
Theo, Valentina? He has abandoned you for a whole week now, with no explanation apart from an old photographic album full of erotica. To suddenly appear like that on Saturday night and fuck Celia in front of you! To wind you up like that. And what does he think those erotic pictures are doing to you alone in your bed every night?

‘I live with Theo,’ she says, not taking her eyes away from Leonardo’s. ‘He wants me to be his girlfriend.’

Leonardo blinks back at her.

‘And I have a girlfriend too. Raquel. I think you met her. Unfortunately she is busy tonight, otherwise she could have taken Celia’s place.’

The blonde in the corset is his girlfriend? She never imagined Leonardo in a relationship.

‘This is a lifestyle choice, Valentina. It has nothing to do with issues of fidelity. You are choosing to experience something I believe you will find erotic. An experience you can use to enhance your sex life with Theo. Besides,’ he adds, ‘he need never know.’

He need never know
. Yet she will know, always. She tries to reason with herself. If she does this, it will help her let go of Theo. She can prove to herself that she can’t be the woman he wants her to be. It will save him from who she really is: a cold, heartless companion just like her mother.

‘Okay,’ she says, hardly believing her own voice. ‘But I am a little frightened . . .’

Leonardo takes her hand in his, holds her warmly in his gaze.

‘That’s what makes it so erotic. You need to have a little fear, Valentina, otherwise it won’t work.’

‘What are you going to do to me?’ she whispers.

He drops her hands, and she sees his eyes harden.

‘I am going to take you to the part of yourself that is most hidden. First we will explore my version of the Velvet Underworld.’

Valentina shivers involuntarily, recalling the whips, and canes she saw hanging on the wall.

‘And then, Valentina, I am going to take you into the Dark Room inside yourself.’

HE LEANS HIS BACK AGAINST THE WALL OF HER BEDROOM
, legs crossed, hands in his pockets, and watches her. His eyes are searing through her clothes as she begins to unbutton her jacket. Her hands shake with trepidation as she unties her scarf, drops her bag by the bed and bends down to unbutton her boots. He walks around her, to come up from behind. She can feel her skin prickling, reacting to his proximity. He lifts her hands into his, up over her head.