Chapter 33

“Damn.” My phone rings just as I’m retrieving some polvorones, shortbread biscuits, from the oven. I dance across the kitchen to put the hot tray down as quickly as possible and slide the phone out of my back pocket as quickly as I can.

“Hi, Julio,” I say as I cradle the phone to my ear.

“Hi. I can’t talk for long. I’m going to send you a file. Look at the profile for Caerus. Gotta go.” He rings off before I can ask him anything more.

This is the information I’ve been waiting for. I start to clear away the pots and utensils I’ve been using and stack the dishwasher. I clean down all the surfaces in the kitchen, even the ones I haven’t used. I look at the time and reason with myself that I might as well make a start on the sauce for dinner. I’m stalling. Now I have something significant enough for Julio to send it, and I’m reluctant to see what it might be.

After finishing the sauce, clearing away, and unloading the dishwasher, I stand for several seconds wondering if I should clean the fridge. Even though I know it’s going to be a problem, I just need to bite the bullet and take a look. I don’t want to be alone when I do it, though, so grabbing my laptop from my room, I head to the Hollywood room, where I know Rafe and Constantin are working. Rafe, with our help, is over halfway through my aunt’s diaries, and we’ve looked at most of the press cuttings too. Rafe has started to create an outline and fill in most of the references from the diaries. He’s also building a huge bank of questions for Estrella. She’s kept to her rooms since the dinner a few days ago, and I haven’t been to see her. We’ve been relying on updates from Juana, but I want to check in with her soon.

“Hi.” Rafe looks up briefly from where he’s bent over his large paper plan across the table. Constantin is in his usual place, sprawled across the couch.

“I received something from Julio,” I say, putting my laptop on the table but keeping it closed. “I’m not sure I want to look.”

“Will it be bad?” Rafe asks.

“I don’t know.” I’m starting to get a headache just thinking about it. I lean forward and rest my head on my laptop.

“Hey.” Constantin’s hands on my shoulders are a comfort and I raise myself up and lean against him. “It will be all right, I’m sure.”

Rafe scoots his chair round to sit next to me and takes my hand. “Whatever it is, we’re here for you.”

With their support, I feel ready to at least take a look. As I wait for the laptop to fire up, I ask if there have been any interesting snippets from my aunt’s diaries today. Sharing some insights into her life and some of her wittiest comments has been one of my favourite activities over the last few days.

“Well, there was a time when she told Brigitte Bardot that chasing passion was never going to bring her love,” Rafe says .

“She really did that?” I can’t believe how she managed to get away with it. But then again, I have met my aunt.

My anxiety ramps up as I navigate to my emails and see Julio’s at the top of the list. The message is short. Not even a greeting.

This is all I could find. If you have any questions, you can call me after seven tonight.

I click on the file to download it. It’s a spreadsheet with several pages. There are a lot of lists of large sums of money, but understanding these is not one of my strong points, which is one of the reasons why I didn’t join the family business.

“What does all this mean?” The figures swim in front of my eyes, and the looming headache inches closer.

Constantin releases my shoulders and claims a chair on the other side of me. “May I?” He gestures to the screen, and I swivel it round for him to take a closer look.

“It seems to be some sort of financial forecasting and investment sheet.”

“When Julio called, he said to look for Caerus.”

Constantin frowns for a minute, as if thinking. “It sounds Greek, but I’m not familiar with it?”

“You know Greek?” Rafe asks.

Constantin shrugs. “A little, as well as French, German, and enough Italian to get by.”

“Wow, that’s impressive.”

“I come from an island which is a tourist destination. I picked up a lot when I was younger.”

“It says here Caerus is an old Greek word, and in Greek mythology, he’s the personification of opportunity, luck, and favourable moments.” I look at the search browser.

“A gambler then?” Rafe says.

“My father would never gamble,” I say and look back at the screen, suddenly unsure of my statement.

“Look here, this section is funding. Then this here”—he points to the screen—“is a future investment, and it says ‘secured’ next to Caerus. Which means he already has the funds. But what are we trying to find?”

“What is the Caerus project?” Rafe asks, and as he says it, a memory stirs at the back of my mind.

“Hold on.” I do a quick search and find the information I’m looking for. “Caerus is a casino complex due to be built next year by a business consortium.”

“So your father’s investing in a casino?” Constantin asks. “This sheet looks like it, but why were you sent this if he’s secured the funds? What’s the relevance?”

“But, what if. . .” Rafe rises and starts pacing the room; he’s in full thinking mode. “What if he’s only said it’s secured in order to make sure he’s guaranteed his investment slot? I can imagine having a stake in a casino is very lucrative? Is there any other information?”

Constantin turns back to the sheet and searches for a while.

“Oh.” He sits back with a grim look on his face. I look at him and then at the screen. Rafe comes to stand behind us.

“I hadn’t seen this sheet at first, as it was right at the end of the workbook. It’s a breakdown of the Caerus funds. Some of it looks like it’s coming from other maturing investments, but the bulk of it says ‘ legado .’”

Legado means legacy. I’m stunned, and it takes me a minute to speak.

“Do you think he’s promised to invest the money based on knowing he’d get my aunt’s inheritance? It would account for him sending me here and his aggressive threats.”

“How much is the investment?” Rafe asks.

“Fifty million in total, with at least forty of that down as legado ,” Constantin reads from the screen.

Rafe whistles.

“Does your aunt have that much? ”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I reply. “I have no idea what she has. It’s not my concern, though it clearly is my father’s.”

“Well, this place must be worth around twenty-five million euros,” Constantin says. “The financial information is in US dollars, and the exchange rate isn’t much different at the moment, so maybe a few more dollars. There are some antiques and art which could be worth a lot, and if she has any investments...”

“Okay, stop please,” I say loudly as nausea threatens to bring up my breakfast. “It all sounds so callous to talk about my aunt in this way. I can’t stand it.” I snap the lid of the laptop down.

“I’m sorry, Cio,” Constantin apologises. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I sigh loudly. “It’s not you, it’s my father. I want to talk to Julio, but he said after seven. I assume he means the time over there, which isn’t for hours, so I can’t do anything else right now.” I stand. “I want to be on my own for a while.” I leave them before they can try to stop me, which in their sweet and concerned way, they will. But I want to think this through on my own, decide what questions I need to ask Julio, and work out how to deal with my father’s threat. Before I go to my room, I want to check on my aunt. It’s only as I near her part of the house that I realise I referred to Buenos Aires as over there and didn’t say the time at home.

“Come here, my child.” My aunt beckons me closer to her bed. “What’s the matter?”

“Is it that obvious?” I ask, wondering if she has a superpower. She’s sitting up, supported by a bank of pillows, looking elegant as always in a satin robe.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve. So, what’s worrying you?”

I had no intention of telling her about my father, but it all comes tumbling out anyway. She doesn’t speak or offer her opinion, she just sits with an infuriatingly enigmatic smile on her face. When I finish, she waits a few seconds and changes the subject.

“I would like to see some of the sights of the city again one last time. Will you organise that for me?”

“But Auntie, you haven’t been out of bed since the dinner party a few days ago!” She looks so frail, even if her spirit is strong.

“We can always find the strength in ourselves to do something we really want to, don’t you think?”

I know that arguing with her was futile, so I agree. “All right, when... and I mean when”—I hold up my hand to emphasise my point—“you’re feeling strong enough, we can arrange a day out for you.”

“Good, that’s settled.” She reclines her head back on her pillows and closes her eyes. I know when I’ve been dismissed. She’s the most admirable woman I’ve ever met. I wish I could summon a fraction of her strength. But right now, I need to work on my own problems.