The Fashion Police by Sibel Hodge Read Free Book Online Page B

she exposed her scrawny neck and took a slow drag. Seeing I wasn’t just going to move on, she blew a line of blue-grey smoke in my direction and answered. ‘I don’t know. Someone hit me over the head. I got knocked out and I can’t remember.’ She curled her lips in a nasty half-smile and leaned skinny forearms on her desk.
    ‘How unfortunate,’ I said in a tone that implied I didn’t believe her in the slightest, and as I waited for her to continue, she flipped open her laptop and stared at the screen.
    ‘Did you see or hear anything before you were knocked out?’ I sat down in front of her, starting to understand why someone would hit her over the head. Much more of this and I would be taking a swing at her, myself.
    ‘No.’ This time she didn’t even bother to look at me when she answered. She rested her cigarette in an ashtray on her desk and typed away, avoiding my steady gaze.
    ‘What’s the last thing you do remember?’
    ‘I was here, at my desk. When I woke up again, I was lying on the floor, there,’ she said in a flat monotone as she pointed to the space between the back of her desk and the wall.
    ‘What time was that?’
    ‘About seven p.m.’
    ‘Who else was in the building at that time?’
    ‘It was just me and Umberto.’
    ‘Was the place locked up and alarmed while you were in here?’
    ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember. The door alarms were probably on.’
    ‘And the entire fashion collection has been stolen from this building?’
    ‘Looks like it.’ She shrugged.
    ‘Any idea how they got in if the alarm was set?’
    Her head swiveled around and she narrowed her blue eyes at me in a piercing gaze. ‘No idea. So maybe the alarm wasn’t on after all.’
    I sighed, meeting her stare head on, while I thought. What I really needed was a good, nosy look at their computers. If anything suspicious had been going on, I was betting on the fact that there was a trail. There usually was. I reviewed my choices. I could ask Heather if I could take a look, but I thought she’d give me a big, fat no, and I didn’t want to tip her off. The other choice was that I could come back after she’d gone. 
    ‘Can you think of anything else that might be helpful?’ I asked.
    ‘No.’
    I stood up. ‘Well, you take it easy then.’
    I wandered around the runway area and checked the dressing rooms that were next door to it before I headed to the upstairs storage area. I wanted to check for myself that the fashion collection was gone. Sure enough, the only thing left in the space was a lonely rhinestone lying on the floor. I slipped it inside a clear plastic bag and put it in my rucksack. By the time I came back down to the main floor, the receptionist had appeared. She sat at her desk, sobbing into a damp tissue.
    ‘It’s terrible,’ she sniffed when she saw me. As she wiped her eyes, I sent her a sympathetic smile. 
    ‘The disappearance? I know. It’s awful. Were you here when it happened?’
    The question brought on a fresh burst of waterworks. ‘No.’ She pulled a fresh tissue from her bag and blew her nose hard. ‘I finish at six. It happened after I left. Gosh, I feel dreadful about this.’ She glanced at the bloody drips on the floor with a shudder. They  trailed from Heather’s office all the way past the reception area and out the doors. ‘Do you think he’s been k-k-killed?’
    ‘I hope not.’ I gave her shoulder a sympathetic rub and leaned in closer as she continued.
    ‘Umberto was such a wonderful person. A true gentleman, you know? He wasn’t one of those rich people where fame and money goes to their heads, and they forget about the little people. And he was such a good boss, too,’ she added hastily, but not before I had noted the adoration in her voice.
    I wondered if she might be in love with him. And if so, were the feelings reciprocated? Because if they weren’t, could this simply be a case of unrequited love? Could this young woman who sat crying in front of