by Bettie Jane
2
“Another private event, Frankie? You are going to make the rest of us gents look bad.” Cecil tapped his shiny shoe in mock accusation, the wink in his eye revealing his good-natured intent.
Frankie and Mattie had stopped kissing long enough to rejoin the rest of the group, and now they congregated by the main entrance, which was still locked.
He laughed at Cecil’s ribbing.
“I had nothing to do with this one, actually. Enrico sent us an invitation when he was booked here.”
“How exclusive is this event?” Edith asked. “I could get used to exclusive events with famous opera singers. Though there are certainly more people here tonight than there were in February.”
Edith always brought a smile to Julia’s face. She said what she thought and worried about the consequences later. It seemed like a rather freeing way to live, actually. As progressive as Julia was, working for the paper as a reporter and starting her own investigative agency, she still found she had to be careful not to let her mouth get her into trouble.
Oscar engaged in banter well with Edith, and the two of them entertained the rest of the group of socialites from Mayfair.
“Note to self: Impress Edith with exclusive, uptight events with the perfect number of attendees.”
“Not uptight, Oscar,” Edith objected. “Just exclusive. I prefer my socializing to be rather laid back, if you don’t mind. If you are going to try to impress me, you’d best be certain to get it right.”
Jimmie changed the subject while pulling on the locked doors. “The doors should be unlocked by now. The show starts in less than thirty minutes. We need time for champagne and mingling.”
“I’ll go around and see if I can find a side door that’s open,” Jimmie volunteered. “Edith, come with me. Tell me exactly what you need in order to be wooed. Frankie can’t be the only one with all the right moves for the ladies.”
They continued their banter until they were out of sight.
“What is Enrico Caruso going to perform tonight?” Julia asked Frankie. “Selections from various operas like last time?”
Frankie shook his head. “No, tonight is the full performance of Les Huguenots.” He turned to Mattie. “He remembered your fondness for Queen Victoria and since this was her favorite opera, he thought you’d like to see him perform.”
“How sweet of him to remember,” Mattie said.
Just then the front doors swung open, and they moved their party inside so as to avoid losing out on good seat selections and to avoid getting trampled by the rest of the small crowd that had grown substantially in the few minutes they’d been waiting.
As the crowd filed inside the venue, Opal asked about Jimmie and Edith.
“What about Mr. and Mrs. Exclusive. Shouldn’t we wait for them?”
Julia shook her head. “No. They’ll make their way in. Besides, we’ll save them seats. They’ll figure out the doors have opened.”
Once in the lobby, they each took champagne glasses from one of the waiters then found their seats.
Julia saw a tall, beautiful woman with dark hair and dark eyes in a formal ball gown arguing with a staff member and curiosity took hold of her.
“You go ahead and get our seats,” she told her friends. “I’ll wait here for Jimmie and Edith.”
Once the others left, Julia moved a little closer to the beautiful woman to eavesdrop. Her reporter’s nose had a way of searching out stories.
The woman’s accent was very thick and very Italian. “They were locked away. Make certain. These are the last copies of Enrico’s recordings until more come from New York.”
“Adrianna, I’m telling you the copies of the records are gone. They never arrived here.”
“That is impossible. I saw them this afternoon with my own eyes. Stacks and stacks of crates with gramophone albums.”
He shook his head. “No, you must have seen other supplies being delivered. We have nothing to indicate we received the albums.”
From where Julia stood, she thought the Italian woman might murder the staff member with her bare hands, and without thinking, stepped forward and touched the woman Adrianna slightly on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry but I couldn’t help but overhear. Mr. Caruso’s records are missing?”
“Yes. They are. This idiot insists they never arrived, but I saw them. I am certain of it.” Adrianna paused, eyes narrowing. “Who are you?”
“Oh, yes, of course. My apologies. My name is Julia Barlow with Charing Cross Investigations. Mr. Caruso performed a wonderful evening in February here for my friend’s proposal and really made her engagement a night to remember. If I might be so bold, I’d like to help you find the missing albums.”
Adrianna looked her up and down, then stared into her eyes for a few moments as though looking for insincerity. Finding none, she finally nodded.
“I suppose that would be helpful. Thank you. I remember my husband speaking fondly of that night.”
“You’re Mr. Caruso’s wife?”
“Yes, yes, I am.”
“He had so many wonderful things to say about you. It’s lovely to meet you.”
Adrianna nodded a bit curtly, and Julia took that as her cue to dispense with the small talk.
“Can you show me where you saw the records earlier today?” Julia asked.
The staff member whose brow was now beading in sweat spoke to Adrianna.
“Mrs. Caruso, it is not necessary to use the services of an investigative agency. If the records were here, we’ll find them. Thank you for your offer, miss, but we’ll decline.”
Adrianna turned on the staff member and blasted him with what could only be insults in very rapid Italian. Julia had no idea what she was saying, but she had him backing up and apologizing profusely.
Adrianna switched back to English. “It is your company’s incompetence that lost the records in the first place, Mr. Becker. Consider yourself freed from the obligation of looking after my husband’s records. Miss Barlow, if you will come with me.”
Julia followed her down the hall and around the corner, hoping desperately she wouldn’t be on the other end of an Italian rant before the night was over.
“I saw the crates in here. They were here after lunch.”
“Are you aware of anyone who might have wanted them? Or someone who held a grudge against your husband?”
Adrianna nodded. “Most of the staff here. They like him, but they despise me. I cannot understand why. I am perfectly lovely when everything goes according to plan. I suppose there are many of them over the years who have come to consider me an enemy.”
“And Mr. Becker, is he one of the ones who might consider you an enemy?”
She shrugged. “Enemy is perhaps a strong word, but I am certain he tolerates me at best, but I think he is fond enough of my husband that he puts up with me.”
She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture as if to say the entire situation was beneath her.
“How many albums were here all together, do you suppose?”
“Hundreds. Someone should have noticed them being moved.”
Julia heard familiar voices out in the hall.
“Excuse me for just a moment, Mrs. Caruso,” she said, and ducked into the hall.
“Jimmie, Edith. You found your way! The others have our seats. Come, let me introduce you to Mrs. Caruso.”
She went back into the room where she’d left Adrianna.
“Mrs. Caruso, these are my friends, Jimmie and Edith. Jimmie and Edith, meet Enrico Caruso’s wife. I’m helping her before the show begins.”
“Call me Adrianna.”
Edith shook her hand and then Jimmie followed suit.
“Adrianna, wonderful to meet you.”
“Where did you get that?” Adrianna said, pointing to a thin, square paper package he held in his hand.
He held up the record. “This? Someone dropped it on the way out of the eastside door. She was running and had a handful of thes
e. I tried to catch her to give back the album, but she ignored my calls. I decided I’d turn it into an usher, perhaps, and she’d eventually come back for it.”
Adrianna and Julia exchanged a meaningful look.
“What did this woman look like, Jimmie?”
“She was beautiful. Long, straight blonde hair nearly to her waist. She wore a bright red dress that seemed to match her lipstick perfectly. I don’t know how you ladies pull off such feats with your clothing and your lipstick.”
Edith elbowed Jimmie in the ribs. “You were so enthralled by her that you didn’t even notice she’d dropped the record until I pointed it out.”
Adrianna muttered what Julia guessed was a string of expletives in Italian.
“Do you know the mysterious lady in red, Mrs. Caruso?”
“She is my husband’s vocal coach and when I see her again—she better hope I never do—I’ll kill her with my bare hands.”
“An enemy, then,” Julia asked, hoping her voice didn’t sound patronizing.
“Yes, very much so, although she pretends to be our friend. The worst kind of enemy, I think.”
“What would she want with all your husband’s albums?”
“She is a greedy, wretched woman who has taken advantage of my husband’s generosity for many years. I am sure she means to sell those albums for her own profit. She is a thief and an ingrate.”
“How long has she worked for your husband?”
“Quite a number of years, actually. They had a brief affair, but it meant nothing to him. She seemed to be devastated when he ended it from boredom but was placated by being allowed to remain in her position as his vocal instructor. I knew it was a bad idea to let her stay on, but what Enrico wants, Enrico gets. I suppose this is as much his fault as hers. If he would not have protected her job, she would not have had the access.”
Julia was struck by Adrianna’s matter-of-fact attitude about her husband’s extra-marital activities. Italian’s did things their way, it seemed.
“It would have taken one person several trips to move all of those crates out of this room. Do you suppose maybe she had help?”
“Yes. One person could not have managed to move so many copies without being seen. Even a small group or pair of people. Someone must have seen something.”
“I agree, Mrs. Caruso. Will you take me backstage and introduce me to a few of the staff? I’d like to ask around and see if anyone will admit to seeing something.”
“Certainly.”
“Jimmie, Edith, will you tell Frankie and the rest what I’m up to?”
They nodded, then left to find the group.
“Mrs. Caruso, do you expect his coach to return for the performance?”
“She usually does.”
“What’s her name?”
“Angelica Amante,” she spat out. “The first person I will introduce you to is my husband while I give him a piece of my mind.”
Julia cringed at the thought of being in the same room when that confrontation occurred, but she followed Adrianna backstage anyway.
3
“Mr. Becker,” Adrianna said. “I need your assistance, please.”
He paled when he saw the very angry Mrs. Caruso walking toward him.
“Yes, of course.”
“You can relax, Mr. Becker. I believe I know who took the boxes, and it was one of our own employees. I need access to your staff to see if anyone can help identify the thief.”
“One of your employees, I see.” His voice was smug, having been redeemed of guilt, and Julia wondered if this Mr. Becker was as dumb as he seemed. Being on the other end of Adrianna Caruso’s rage didn’t seem like a fun place to be at all.
Better him than me, Julia thought.
Julia spoke before Adrianna had a chance to murder him with her furious glare.
“Mr. Becker, have you seen a tall, blonde woman? Angelica Amante, Mr. Caruso’s vocal coach.”
He nodded. “I saw her earlier today. She and Mr. Caruso were having an argument in the hallway near his dressing room. She seemed distraught, but I couldn’t hear what was said. I watched her stomp off in quite a huff, though.”
“I see,” Adrianna said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m going to kill that man.”
“Where is Mr. Caruso now, Adrianna, do you know?”
“Either in his dressing room or backstage. This close to the show, he could be in either place. Come with me. Mr. Becker, you too.”
Julia and Mr. Becker followed Adrianna’s angry steps through the bowels of the building, calling for Enrico.
“Enrico? Enrico!”
They passed through a door, turned a corner, and followed another smaller corridor until they reached his dressing room door. She threw open the door and called out for him again.
“Enrico! What is the meaning of this?”
Instead of finding Enrico, they encountered four crates worth of records stacked in the room. The same record that Jimmie had picked up in the hall earlier.
“Are these the missing records, Mrs. Caruso?”
She looked around at the stack of boxes with a bewildered look on her pale face, which grew paler by the moment.
“I really am going to murder him. Dead. Do you understand? Julia, you found the records. I would now like to employ you to act as my husband’s bodyguard because without your protection, he will be dead before the curtain calls.”
Julia smiled gently at Adrianna, feeling a little bit of sympathy for the stressed woman and perhaps a little bit more sympathy for her husband.
“Now, Julia, come with me. Mr. Becker, thank you for your assistance. We will take it from here,” Adrianna said and walked out of the dressing room, leaving a speechless Mr. Becker in her wake. Julia followed, swept up in Mrs. Caruso’s powerful force of will. It seemed when Adrianna Caruso insisted on a thing, human nature was to comply with her.
“May I ask where we are going, Mrs. Caruso?”
“Backstage. I need to find out what happened with Angelica and my husband.”
“Good luck to you, Mrs. Caruso. It was a pleasure meeting you. I think I’ll venture back to my seat now if you are no longer in need of my services.”
“Did you not hear what I said? I will kill him unless there is a witness to stop me. Do not worry, I will pay you handsomely for your company.”
Julia smiled at Adrianna, seeing a determination in her eyes that felt familiar, kindred almost.
“I’m happy to keep you company, Mrs. Caruso.”
“Good, I am quite fond of you for some reason. Most women are mindless twits, but you, there is something about you that is endearing.”
“I quite like you as well, Adrianna, and if it’s not too bold to say, I’m quite worried for your husband. I’ve only met him the one time, but it seems like perhaps he is outmatched by you.”
Adrianna laughed a warm, full sound. She was a beautiful woman, and while dramatic as anyone Julia had ever met, Julia had the sense that underneath the ferocity Adrianna was amused by all of this.
“My husband can hold his own, actually. I would not have married a milksop. You will see, he has a way of calming me down.”
They stepped into a darker hallway that then opened into a larger room, still quite dark. Enrico stood speaking quietly with another staff member, and his face lit up when Adrianna entered the room.
“My darling, how lovely to see you.”
She kissed his cheek and he kissed hers.
“Enrico Caruso, what in hell have you done to upset that poor woman Angelica?”
Julia smiled to herself. Now Angelica was a ‘poor woman’? Adrianna continued to fascinate her.
“What has she done now?”
Enrico didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised that Adrianna was upset with Angelica. This must have been a common occurrence.
“She left in a fury, apparently with at least a handful of your records. The rest of which have been moved into your dressing room. Mr. Becker, useless as he seems to
be, noticed you and Angelica having a loud, quite public disagreement earlier.”
He chuckled. “I fired her, so I suppose that would explain her being angry.”
“Why on earth did you fire the sweet girl and what was she doing with your records?”
Sweet girl? Adrianna had described Angelica as greedy and wretched. What a strange woman.
Enrico raised his eyebrows at Adrianna’s statement.
“Sweet girl? You do not need to pretend you like her anymore, darling. She is out of our lives. I am sorry I let her remain for so long. I thought she might be able to remain professional as my instructor, but she could not forget that we used to be something more. As for the records, she tried to induce the staff to help her take the records as her payment. Mr. Becker was kind enough to stop her and have all of them moved to my rooms.”
Julia braced herself for Adrianna to murder Enrico for his casual reference to his affair, but Adrianna’s reply left Julia completely shocked.
“Oh, he did, did he? He told me he’d never seen them.”
“Don’t take it personally, darling wife. They are loyal to me. I’ll speak with them and tell them that they should treat you as they do me. Don’t fret.”
Adrianna nodded triumphantly.
“Wonderful, Enrico. These young girls always get so attached to you, darling. How do they not understand that they will never be more than a fling to you?”
He shrugged. “It must be charm and my rugged good looks.”
Adrianna laughed, and the husband and wife embraced fondly.
Julia’s entire sense of what was appropriate etiquette between a man and his wife tipped completely on its side.
What a bizarre relationship these two had.
Adrianna seemed to remember that Julia was still in the room.
“Darling, this is Julia. She is your bodyguard.”
Enrico looked at the relatively tiny Julia and laughed the most infectious laugh she’d ever heard.
“Julia, it is wonderful to meet you. Adrianna, you could not kill me, not really. Although, I do appreciate that you want to from time to time.”
“Good to meet you, Mr. Caruso,” Julia said. “My friends and I saw you perform here in February for my friend’s wedding proposal.”
