078 The Phantom Of Venice Read Free Page B

Gianniweren’t totally positive. There was a certain glitter in his luminous dark eyes, and a feline grace to his rippling muscular movements which seemed to hint that he could be as cruel and heartless as he was handsome.
    Looking back at his sister, Nancy said, “Tell me, Signora, wh—”
    “Please! You must call me Angela.”
    “Very well . . . Angela . . . what do you think happened to Tara’s father? Did someone kill him?”
    “Ah, mamma mia! How can you ask me such a terrible question?! I simply do not know!”
    “Did he have any enemies? Was there anyone who might have wanted to harm him?”
    This time Signora Spinelli took longer to answer. At last she shook her head. “No . . . none that I know of.”
    Yet Nancy, observing the expression that flickered over her face, strongly suspected that thoughts had just passed through Angela’s mind that might well have some bearing on Rolf Egan’s tragic mishap.
    Tara, meanwhile, had stopped crying with a final convulsive sob. “Nancy’s good at solving mysteries,” she murmured tearfully. “In fact, in America, she’s quite famous as a detective.”
    “Èvvero?” said Angela with a look of surprise. “Then perhaps one day she may be able to explain to us all this terrible thing that happened to your caro padre!”
    But Signora Spinelli’s voice sounded far from hopeful.
    Nancy slipped an arm around Tara’s shoulders and helped her pull herself together. Tara responded to her attentions and also flashed a grateful glance at Gianni. In return, the handsome Italian youth favored her with a dazzling smile calculated to melt the heart of any susceptible female.
    “I . . . I suppose we’d better go over Daddy’s personal effects.” Tara asked.
    “Si,” said Angela. “Perhaps now would be as good a time as any.”
    As they rose from their chairs, Gianni shifted his gaze from Tara and looked directly at Nancy. To her surprise, it was an arrogantly sensual glance—a smiling macho challenge, loaded with frank and open desire.
    Nancy felt a nervous shiver pass through her. How could he look at her like that when just a moment ago he had been showing so much tenderness toward Tara? The vibes he was giving off seemed like a boast, almost a threat, that he could have any girl he wanted, whenever he cared to take her.
    The boast or threat, whichever it was, left Nancy with a chill of mistrust.
    Angela took Tara through the apartment, showing her Rolf Egan’s belongings. They were surprisingly few—a limited wardrobe of clothing, a drawerful of personal papers including an envelope of snapshotstaken over the years, and assorted art equipment, paintings and sketches.
    Nancy, who had a keen artistic eye, found his canvases colorful and charming. They reflected Rolf’s adventurous, bohemian spirit and certainly showed a good deal of talent. Yet she doubted that any of them would bring very high prices if exhibited at an art gallery. She privately concluded that Rolf Egan had been a gifted commercial artist, but not a creative genius.
    As the two girls finished looking over his work, Angela clapped her hands and exclaimed to Tara with a smile, “Ah, si! Suddenly I remember now!”
    “Remember what?”
    “There is something your father wanted very much for you to have! In fact he was planning to send it to you just before his terrible accident! Aspetta uno momento! I shall go and get it!”
    As she rushed off, Tara and Nancy exchanged curious glances, both intrigued by her words. What special gift had Rolf Egan left his only daughter? The two girls waited with keen interest to see what Angela would show them.

3
The Watcher in the Shadows
    To Tara’s and Nancy’s surprise, Signora Spinelli soon returned, carrying some bright-colored fabric. It proved to be a chef’s apron with an attractive pictorial design in blue, yellow and green.
    The design showed a figure in a chef’s hat, flipping an egg in a skillet over the stove. Above this was scripted a